Vengeance at Last!

Vengeance at Last!

Clear, cold moonlight fell upon the Martial Arts Field, turning the ground to liquid mercury.

Several people stood on the eaves of the Martial Arts School.

Yang Dongxiong stood on the foremost roof ridge, watching the roaring youth below, watching him grit his teeth until his face twisted savagely, yet he made no move to stop this farce.

Beside the crowd, the apprentice who had been press-ganged into explaining the whole story sweated profusely at the temples, trembling with fear.

"I'm going over!"

Liang Qu suddenly broke free, shaking off the restraint of the two people, and returned to the center of the field amid their calls.

Moonlight slanted across Liang Qu's sharp features, weaving light and shadow together. His high nose cast a shadow that concealed one eye, while the other remained calm and expressionless.

Ten paces apart, the two sides faced each other.

One man against seven.

Moonlight and lamplight pierced the night.

Liang Qu stood ramrod straight, like a drawn sword, and every eye fixed upon him.

That dog bastard really knew how to put on airs.

Lu Tingcai grew even angrier. Especially when he saw the looks in the eyes of several female apprentices nearby, rage burned in his chest. He reached out and grabbed a wooden stick from the Weapon Rack beside him.

Sparring was permitted at the Martial Arts School, and Weapon Racks had been set up for that purpose. But to keep hot-blooded youths from truly coming to blows, there were only wooden sticks, no edged weapons.

Lu Tingcai turned his head. "He's just a newcomer. I can handle him myself. Let him learn what reverence is."

The others nodded. They thought the same.

With so many people watching, having all seven rush forward would be too embarrassing.

Lu Tingcai twirled his stick and gave a cold laugh as he slowly stepped forward, like a small mountain.

He stood a full one point nine meters tall and could look down upon Liang Qu, who had not yet fully grown.

Especially as the distance closed, his imposing presence became all the more startling.

Li LiBo and Chen Jiechang swallowed behind Liang Qu, but no matter how they called out, Liang Qu acted as though he could not hear them.

Lu Tingcai paced forward, drawing closer bit by bit. Once he came within three meters, he flashed a savage grin, stamped the ground, and shot forward like an arrow.

Power rose from the ground. Lu Tingcai tensed every muscle in his body, every inch twisting and exerting force, flowing from the sole of his left foot into his right hand, then into the short stick.

He raised the egg-thick wooden stick high and smashed it down at Liang Qu's crown. The stick tore through the air with a shriek that made hearts tremble.

Lu Tingcai could not wait to see Liang Qu's head split open and bleeding. Driven by fury, the angle and speed of this strike were nearly his most perfect performance, far beyond even his own expectations.

Watching his opponent stand frozen like wood in terror, a violent thrill rose in his chest.

Liang Qu remained calm. Only when the shadow of the stick was right before his eyes did he step forward, seize Lu Tingcai's wrist, twist it downward, and with effortless force take the wooden stick from his hand. Then he casually slapped him across the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Silence fell, so still that the wind in the distant sky could be heard.

Everyone's eyes widened at that moment. The victor had been decided in a single exchange.

Too fast, too vicious. No one saw Liang Qu's movements clearly.

Li LiBo and Chen Jiechang stood behind Liang Qu with their mouths agape, as though something had lodged in their throats.

The crickets began chirping again.

Moonlight shone on Lu Tingcai's head, cold as ice. His wrist was swollen, and he clutched his face, pale as death, utterly unable to understand what had happened.

What happened? I just... I just got slapped?

In an instant, veins bulged at Lu Tingcai's temples, throbbing wildly. He braced himself on the ground, sprang up, and swung his fist.

Liang Qu lashed the stick against Lu Tingcai's forearm, knocking aside the fist, then landed another slap on his face with a crisp smack.

Everyone saw it clearly. Everyone was dumbfounded.

Lu Tingcai sat there blankly, unable to believe it. Unspeakable shame and fury surged into his heart. Like a wild dog, he panted twice on the ground with a hoarse hoo hoo, still trying to leap up again.

But Liang Qu gave him no further chance to strike back. He stepped forward and swept the short stick horizontally.

Lu Tingcai saw only the wooden stick turn into an afterimage before it swung over and smashed heavily into the side of his face. He spat out a mouthful of sweet blood and rolled to the ground, half his face completely numb. He did not know whether an entire row of teeth on one side had been knocked loose.

Liang Qu lowered his eyes to look at the few broken teeth on the ground, then stepped forward.

"Don't come over!" Lu Tingcai clutched his face and roared in terror. "Quick, get him! Get him!"

Only then did the six stunned men on the other side come to their senses, shouting as they rushed forward.

Liang Qu took another step, raised the wooden stick high, intending to knock out every tooth on Lu Tingcai's other side as well, but shouts were already coming from in front of him.

Liang Qu used the momentum of his stride to sink into a bow stance. His left knee bent at ninety degrees and drove against the ground, his waist twisting as the short stick shrieked through the air, carving a great arc!

The short stick struck Xue Dingyi beneath the jaw. He spat blood, his whole face twisting out of shape as he rolled to the ground.

Like boiling water poured over snowballs, the people behind Xue Dingyi hurriedly retreated to either side.

On the other side, a short, burly thug who had rushed over gave a low roar and swung his stick at Liang Qu's shoulder. But a terrible palpitation suddenly engulfed him. The blood in his heart seemed to flow in reverse for an instant, throwing his movements into disarray.

Liang Qu stepped in and struck the short, burly thug's wrist with the short stick. Before Liang Qu could relax, an unstoppable force crashed into his arm. His body halted as he forcibly endured the churning of his blood and qi, pulled back the short stick, turned his wrist, and thrust out with a strike at the man's dantian.

The man could not draw breath. His body swayed for a moment before he collapsed to the ground.

The remaining three roared as they rushed forward together, swinging their wooden sticks down. There were too many, too dense. Liang Qu blocked two, but someone leapt up and swung down, striking Liang Qu on the head.

Liang Qu felt as though his entire skull were an iron bell that had been struck. Blood spilled from both his nose and mouth.

Then someone climbed up from behind and struck him across the back again. Liang Qu's eyes went wide, the corners nearly tearing apart. Holding in a breath, the veins on his forearms twisted like snakes. He kicked the man in front of him flying, spun around with a sweeping strike, and the man who had climbed up had no time to dodge before a blow shattered his side ribs.

There were too many people. Those who fell got back up, and four or five sticks swung at him at once. He could block two, but three would always land on his body.

The Martial Arts Field descended into chaos in an instant. The way things developed was beyond everyone's expectations. They stared blankly, not knowing what to do.

Bloodstained wooden sticks, savage expressions, torn muscles, the silver-bright full moon, swaying candlelight, cold eyes, and a sky full of flickering stars. One figure after another lunged at him. Short sticks battered Liang Qu's body, yet he seemed to feel no pain. Relying on his physique, he swung again and again, sending the figures pressing in on him flying away.

Lu Tingcai and the others rose more and more slowly, and the force behind their sticks grew lighter and lighter.

Yet Liang Qu's fury only blazed hotter. The stick in his hand seemed intent on splitting people in two! His blood-covered face twisted, and the cold night became terrifying.

Someone threw away his short stick and picked up a blue brick, but before it could strike Liang Qu, man and brick alike were smashed to pieces by a single blow.

The short stick suddenly snapped. Liang Qu lunged forward, wrapped his arms around one man's waist and abdomen, and rammed him into the ground. The man's eyes rolled back, and he let go of the short stick in his hand.

Liang Qu grabbed the man by the hair, lifted his head, and smashed it viciously into the ground. The hard Yellow Mud Ground was pounded into a crater, and his face blossomed in a spray of blood.

Another stick struck Liang Qu across the back. Ignoring the ache, Liang Qu forcibly drew a breath, grabbed the short stick in passing, and spun around. With a full circular swing, he sent the man sprawling to the ground again, several ribs broken.

Liang Qu turned with the stick raised, but his swing hit empty air.

No one was left standing.

He lowered his head. Blood and broken teeth covered the ground.

Round drops of blood fell from the tip of the stick.

Liang Qu knelt on one knee. Behind him lay scattered youths groaning in pain. His cheek bulged as he pressed his tongue against it, then he spat out a mouthful of bloody foam. The throat clogged by congealed blood could breathe freely again.

"Hoo."

Liang Qu took a deep breath, planted the wooden stick on the ground, and his torn muscles trembled as they squeezed out their last trace of strength. Swaying, he supported himself upright and stood straight in the center of the field.

Li LiBo and Chen Jiechang's mouths hung completely open. They made hoarse sounds but could not utter a word.

The apprentices at the edge of the Martial Arts Field had fallen into an eerie silence.

Liang Qu slowly exhaled a long breath, unable to conceal the exhaustion and pain covering his body.

One against seven had been too much of a stretch.

Then Liang Qu lifted his head and saw the people standing on the eaves beneath the moonlight.

His fusion rate was nearing fifty. He could already manipulate blood, but his control was not precise enough. He could only affect the carotid artery, where blood was most concentrated, making another person's blood briefly flow in reverse.

But Liang Qu had used it only once, on that short, burly thug. When he twisted around to strike again, he saw someone on the roof and did not dare use it again.

"Lu Tingcai, Xue Dingyi, Yu Weilong, Xiang Quji—you seven will not need to come to the Martial Arts School again!"

With the dust settled, several figures leapt down from the rooftop, and a booming voice carried across the entire Martial Arts Field.

The leading old man came before Liang Qu, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

"You're Liang Qu, right?"

"Yes."

Liang Qu lowered his head and gave a weary smile.

"Would you be willing to become my disciple?"