Golden Bell

Above and below the arena, silence fell in an instant.

Everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.

One punch!

With just one punch, Ning Wuhui, notorious for his ferocity, had been knocked off the arena!

Seeing his disciple's miserable state, Zhang Qiaoshan's heart ached so badly it cramped. The other disciples he had brought were frightened pale, looking at one another, and none dared step onto the arena to issue another challenge.

What a joke!

Even Senior Brother Ning had been crippled with one punch. Wouldn't they be courting death if they went up?

"We won! We won!"

The disciples of Lingyue Martial Arts School were the first to recover, erupting in thunderous cheers!

Li Pinghu was so excited that tears streamed down his aged face. He rushed over, hugged Yun Long as he stepped down from the arena, and vigorously patted his shoulder.

"Well done, A-Long! You've really brought honor to Uncle Li!"

Li Lingyue also ran over. Her beautiful eyes sparkled as she looked at Yun Long, her cheeks flushed red with admiration and joy.

She cleared her throat, walked before the ashen-faced Zhang Qiaoshan, and extended her snow-white hand, a hint of mischief curling her lips.

"Old Master Zhang, thank you for yielding."

"By our agreement, that Chasing Wind sword belongs to us now!"

"And don't go saying that Lingyue Martial Arts School only teaches crooked melons and split dates in the future!"

Zhang Qiaoshan trembled with fury, his old face turning the color of pig liver. He pointed at Li Lingyue and stammered for a long while, yet could not utter a single word.

What could he say?

A loss was a loss!

Before the entire town, could he possibly renege on the debt?

"Hmph!"

Zhang Qiaoshan squeezed the word through clenched teeth and gestured for a disciple to hand over the brocade box containing the Chasing Wind sword.

Li Lingyue took the brocade box and happily opened it for a look. The sword, gleaming with cold light, was so precious to her that she could hardly put it down.

She shot a triumphant glance at the furious Zhang Qiaoshan, joy blooming in her heart.

Inside a private room at Wangjiang Tower.

Fang Yuanhua played with the jade cup in his hand, now cracked, a teasing smile lingering at the corner of his mouth.

"Elder Mu, that brat's Golden Bell Shield has some real substance to it."

He looked toward the arena, his gaze lingering briefly on Yun Long.

Elder Mu remained bent at the waist. His voice was as steady as ever, though tinged with contemplation.

"Reporting to Your Highness, this technique is indeed extraordinary. Judging from the circulation of his true qi, it vaguely bears the fierce and domineering intent of Buddhist teachings. The golden light protecting his body gathers without dispersing. It is truly a superior external cultivation technique."

"Buddhist teachings?"

Fang Yuanhua raised a brow slightly.

"There seems to be no Buddhist temple lineage within the Changqing Kingdom, does there? Even for a Mortal Stage martial art, it should not be such a low-grade path if it came from a Buddhist sect."

Elder Mu nodded. "Your Highness is correct. Though this Golden Bell Shield is strong, it has yet to transcend the scope of mundane martial arts. If it truly were a profound Buddhist inheritance, its power would be far greater than this. Perhaps that youth encountered another opportunity and obtained a few fragmentary texts."

Fang Yuanhua nodded lightly and did not pursue the matter further.

"Interesting. But there is no need to rush over the technique."

He turned his gaze toward the distant Jingyang Mountain Range, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

"I have more pressing business here. That brat cannot escape."

The uproar beneath the arena gradually subsided, but the excitement and shock on everyone's faces had yet to fully fade.

Yun Long had become famous in a single battle. Nanshan Town had produced two Xiantian martial artists under the age of twenty. This news alone would be enough for them to discuss for a long time.

Li Pinghu was still holding Yun Long, so excited that his words came out in a jumble, while Li Lingyue held the Chasing Wind sword, beside herself with joy.

Yun Ji looked at his son, his heart filled with countless emotions. The Yun Clan was truly about to rise.

Just then, a disturbance suddenly arose at the edge of the crowd.

Two powerful auras descended abruptly, like two great mountains pressing down upon everyone's hearts.

"Who is it?"

Li Pinghu's expression changed as he shielded Yun Long and Li Lingyue behind him.

Yun Ji narrowed his eyes as well and looked toward the newcomers.

Two burly men in black martial attire, standard-issue sabers hanging at their waists, parted the crowd and strode in.

Their temples bulged high, their eyes were sharp as eagles', and savage, intimidating auras radiated from their bodies. They were both peak Xiantian realm martial artists!

"By order of the Ninth Prince!"

One of them spoke with the booming force of a great bell. His gaze swept over the entire crowd, carrying unquestionable authority.

"All Xiantian realm martial artists in Nanshan Town are to remain here from this moment onward. None may leave without permission!"

The moment these words fell, the square became utterly silent; even a falling needle could be heard.

The people who had just been immersed in joy felt as though a basin of ice water had been poured over their heads, chilling them from head to toe.

The Ninth Prince?

He was the current emperor's son!

Why would he come to a tiny place like Nanshan Town?

The guard continued, "An ancient cultivator's ruin has been discovered in the Jingyang Mountain Range. You are required to assist in searching the mountains. All participants will be rewarded according to their merits once the task is complete. No one will be treated unfairly!"

"As of today, Nanshan Town is temporarily sealed off. No one may enter or leave at will. Those who defy this order will be killed without mercy!"

The words "killed without mercy" were like three heavy hammers smashing viciously into every heart.

Upon hearing this, Yun Ji felt slightly relieved. So they were entering the mountains to search for ruins. As long as it had nothing to do with the Lineage genealogy, that was fine.

Still, the Jingyang Mountain Range... was no peaceful land.

The old hunters outside the mountains all said that in the depths of the vast Jingyang Mountain Range, no one knew how many Xiantian realm martial artists had been buried there after entering and never returning.

Mundane people like them usually only dared to scrape out a living along the outer edges of the Jingyang Mountain Range.

The Jingyang Mountain Range stretched across three provinces, vast beyond measure. Even if they were to search it, it would be no easy task.

The manpower from Nanshan Town alone certainly would not be enough.

The Xiantian martial artists from several nearby towns probably would not be able to escape this either. They would have to enter the mountains as well.

Even so, they could search no more than one corner of the Jingyang Mountain Range.

Thoughts raced through Yun Ji's mind. The Ninth Prince must have received some reliable information.

The ruins should lie in the southwestern region of the Jingyang Mountain Range, perhaps in an even smaller area. Otherwise, why would the Ninth Prince make such a grand display?

Alas.

It was not just Yun Ji. Every Xiantian realm martial artist present, without exception, wore an exceedingly troubled expression.

Going deep into the Jingyang Mountain Range meant danger lurking on all sides and peril piled upon peril.

The townspeople had likely become hostages the Ninth Prince could use to keep them in check. He was not afraid that these Xiantian realm martial artists would disobey, nor was he afraid that they would flee.

Li Pinghu's face was livid. Right now, he wished he could slap himself twice. Back then, he never should have let Yun Long force his way into the spotlight!

If they had concealed their abilities, perhaps they could still remain safely in town and look after Lingyue, Yun Hu, and their siblings.

But now... they no longer had the right to refuse.

Yun Ji forcibly suppressed the unease in his heart. His voice carried a trace of barely detectable hoarseness. "A-Hu, take Xiao He and Lingyue home first. Cultivate properly at home. The three of us will travel together. Nothing will happen."

Shi Tie came over at some point, grinning as he tried to break the heavy atmosphere. "Old Yun, that's not right, that's not right. There's me too."

Yet the worry in his eyes could not be hidden.

Yun Hu knew this was not a place for many words. He bit down hard on his lip, nodded heavily, cast a deep look at his father, then pulled along Xiao He, who was holding back tears, and the frightened, uneasy Lingyue as he turned away with heavy steps.

Like Yun Ji's group of four, the Xiantian martial artists of Nanshan Town formed many small groups of their own. No one dared venture alone into the depths of the mountains.

If not for a wild beast carrying Yun Jiang to the outskirts of the mountain range back then, Yun Ji would never have had the chance to pick up the genealogy.