Vital Point

Xu Yi had cultivated Martial Arts to the Body Tempering Peak; his skin was like cowhide felt, his bones like hardened iron. Even blades and swords wielded by ordinary men could not pierce him, yet a palm gust from Zhou Shirong had struck like steel needles boring into bone.

He scarcely dared imagine whether his body would explode if that punch landed solidly.

With such a terrifying fist wind, how could Xu Yi dare take it head-on? His body moved like a nimble serpent. He had only just slipped beneath the horse's belly when an explosive boom of ruptured air rang beside his ears.

Xu Yi's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He had never imagined that human fists could truly unleash such power. He already knew Zhou Shirong was far beyond his ability to handle; his earlier notion of slaughtering Old thief Zhou's sinful son had been far too childish.

Xu Yi had been stunned by Zhou Shirong's divine skill, but Zhou Shirong was likewise astonished by Xu Yi's capabilities.

With Zhou Shirong's skill, he could naturally see Xu Yi's realm. Looking across all of Lingxiao Pavilion, after that punch of his, no one below the Body Tempering Stage could possibly evade it. Yet Xu Yi had dodged it with ease. How could that not shock him?

Xu Yi had no mind to care what Zhou Shirong was thinking. This was a life-or-death juncture. His brain spun furiously, and with a flash of inspiration, he suddenly reached out and gripped the horse's belly. The white horse cried out in pain and immediately sprang several yards forward, dragging him along.

Xu Yi flipped onto the horse's back, yanked the reins northward, and urgently kicked its belly with both feet. The white horse raced faster and faster, instantly opening a gap of more than ten yards from Zhou Shirong, whose expression shifted between light and shadow.

Mountain winds howled, and the blazing sun gradually slanted westward. Xu Yi urged his horse onward, fleeing for his life. Though he knew nothing of riding, having cultivated to the Body Tempering Peak, he understood sinews and bones, discerned blood vessels, and borrowed force to control force, as though it were an innate method.

He sat upright upon the horse, swaying with the wind like a drifting lotus, elegant and unrestrained.

More importantly, the white horse beneath him was exceptionally magnificent, far superior to ordinary steeds. With its four hooves spread wide, every stride covered twice the distance of a normal fine horse.

Xu Yi was just savoring the exhilaration of riding when the forest wind roared behind him. He glanced back, and his eyeballs nearly popped out.

Zhou Shirong was flying through the air, stepping atop the crowns of the massive roadside trees, seizing stars and grasping the moon as he shot toward him. A distance of more than ten yards was caught up in only a few breaths.

With only several yards remaining, Zhou Shirong tapped off with both feet and struck repeatedly with crossed palms. A spiraling force arose from thin air. Xu Yi felt as though a tornado had risen in midair, sucking him skyward.

Xu Yi had never seen such divine skill. Terrified out of his wits, he fought desperately, stomping down on the saddle. The tremendous force shattered it, and the immense strength dragged the white horse's body sideways, nearly toppling it.

Borrowing that immense force, Xu Yi tilted his body and once again hid himself beneath the horse's belly.

That earth-shaking fist force immediately dissipated, as though the white horse were a towering mountain that no raging hurricane could ever cross.

Back beneath the horse's belly, Xu Yi was still badly shaken, for the technique Zhou Shirong had displayed had surpassed everything he knew.

As far as he knew, no matter how fierce a fist force was, it had to strike an object to possess power. He had never heard of someone killing merely through fist wind.

Yet Zhou Shirong's attack had been launched through the air. From three yards away, force had arisen on its own. And that force was certainly not a gust generated by a rapidly moving fist—it was clearly palm force, pure to the utmost.

Releasing palm force outward was something even Xu Yi, at the Body Tempering Peak, did not dare imagine.

Thus, Xu Yi became completely certain that Zhou Shirong's Martial Arts realm was far beyond the Body Tempering Stage. He had likely reached the Qi Sea Realm—the realm occupied by his dead Ghost Master, Liao Chen.

As Xu Yi was deeply shaken by Zhou Shirong's Martial Arts cultivation, Zhou Shirong lightly tapped the ground with both feet, instantly covering more than ten yards. With an effortless leap, he landed atop the horse's back.

The white horse was extraordinarily divine. Carrying one extra person did not slow it in the slightest. As it charged wildly forward, the gale howled and it moved as swiftly as thunder. The mountains, forests, trees, and low houses on either side sped backward and blurred into shadows.

Zhou Shirong stood upon the horse, dressed in white whiter than snow, his robes snapping in the fierce wind. Graceful and dashing, he looked from afar like an immortal descended into the mortal world.

But who could know that Young Master Zhou, with his peerless elegance, was currently frantic with anxiety and seething with hatred?

"Get off the horse. You have seen my abilities; there is no need for pointless resistance. No matter what you have done to the Zhou Family, for a mere Body Tempering Peak cultivator like you to escape from beneath my palms time and again, I grant you the mercy of taking your own life!"

Zhou Shirong's handsome sword-like brows furrowed, and he finally spoke.

Xu Yi had seen conceited people before, but never anyone this conceited. Rage boiled in his heart, yet he answered warmly, "Young Master, you are truly generous. Look—I killed your uncle, slaughtered your cousin, burned your grand mansion of a thousand rooms into a field of ash, and even took two Gold Cakes for nothing. Yet you only grant me death by my own hand. Truly generous. So generous that you have quite the bearing of a servant. I imagine your ancestors must have come from household slaves..."

When it came to a poisonous tongue, how could Young Master Zhou be a match for Xu Yi, who had endured countless forum flame wars?

Not one vulgar word passed Xu Yi's lips, yet every word drew blood and sealed the throat.

Zhou Shirong nearly ground his teeth to pieces. "You are courting death!"

After shouting, he lightly tapped off with both feet, leaped down from the horse's back, and chopped a palm toward Xu Yi beneath the horse's belly.

Though Xu Yi had been busy winning the battle of words, his attention remained at the highest alert. The instant the horse's back grew lighter, every hair on his spine stood on end. He twisted and contracted his body, slipping to the left side of the horse. The divine white horse was huge and tall; with Xu Yi curled up, its body completely concealed him.

Zhou Shirong's palm carried thunderbolts, blasting a deep pit into the ground, yet it did not harm a single hair on Xu Yi's head.

"Villain, how dare you! Once I capture you, I will throw you into Ten Thousand Ghost Cave and have ten thousand ghosts gnaw and bite you until your soul and spirit are utterly extinguished!"

As he spoke, Zhou Shirong's temples throbbed wildly. A raging sea churned within his heart, each wave higher than the last.

Even after learning that Xu Yi was the chief culprit behind the destruction of the Zhou Family, Zhou Shirong had never regarded him with the slightest importance. At first, he had not even wished to say a single word to Xu Yi.

For in Zhou Shirong's eyes, no matter how vicious Xu Yi was, he was merely an ant. When dealing with an ant, one only needed to crush it beneath one's foot. Why waste words?

But he had never expected this ant to be so cunning. From the very beginning, Xu Yi had detected his weakness and remained arrogant until now!

Indeed, Xu Yi had noticed Zhou Shirong's weak point from the start—the white horse he relied upon as a shield.

When Zhou Shirong's punch had first come roaring toward him, Xu Yi's spine had gone cold. He had immediately dived beneath the horse's belly and narrowly evaded it.

But afterward, when Zhou Shirong's punch landed, its immense fist force tore an airburst across the horse's back. Xu Yi then knew that without this white horse, he would have come to no good end.

The reasoning was simple. Zhou Shirong merely needed to change his move in midair and strike the white horse directly. The instant the horse exploded, Xu Yi would certainly be hit as well.

Yet Zhou Shirong would rather let his punch miss than harm the white horse.

By then, how could Xu Yi not know that this white horse was extraordinarily important to Zhou Shirong?

Having pinpointed Zhou Shirong's Vital Point, how could Xu Yi possibly refrain from exploiting it?