A Fine Soup Gone Sour

After his first strike missed, the Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man tapped the ground with his toes, wheeled around, and pounced again.

Though Xu Yi was burdened with the Bearded Man, amidst the cluster of men and horses there were barriers everywhere. Relying on his swift movements, he repeatedly slipped through fleeting gaps and evaded the Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man's killing blows.

The Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man truly deserved to be called a Body Tempering Peak expert. His immense strength was astounding. Spurred on by Young Master Zhou's frantic shouts, he had no choice but to strike heavily. Yet heavy blows were easy to unleash and hard to retract. Xu Yi could dodge them, but the riders could not. In the blink of an eye, the Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man had killed seven of them.

Boom!

Xu Yi's toe landed on the throat of the last rider. With a crisp crack, the rider's neck twisted, and he tumbled from his horse.

At this point, all eight riders Young Master Zhou had brought with him were dead!

Only now did Young Master Zhou realize that the mountain village youth before him was no longer an ant he could insult, beat, and amuse himself with at will. Looking into those icy eyes, he actually felt a thread of chill crawl across his back.

The chill had barely faded when, suddenly, a tide of humiliation surged through Young Master Zhou's heart.

He was a scion of nobility, born to an eminent family. Not to mention his uncle Zhou Daogan, whose name shook Guang'an, even his own household kept dozens of retainers and was filled with experts. He himself had already reached the Body Tempering Late Stage, only half a step from the Body Tempering Peak. Yet this ant-like Xu Yi had made him feel fear. It was simply the greatest humiliation imaginable!

At that thought, Young Master Zhou's fury surged like river and sea. His eyes reddened as he said, "Good, good! So you have been hiding yourself so deeply. You really did secretly cultivate some skill. My uncle was right—your Xu Family ancestors were bandit chiefs. You will always resort to these ghostly tricks. You spineless coward! Didn't you want revenge? This young master is right here. Come!"

"Why be in such a hurry to die? Let me skin your lackey first!"

With a shout, Xu Yi raised his left thumb. Its short, sharp nail was like the keenest little blade. With a tearing sound, he drew a thin, pale line from the Bearded Man's crown. Blood immediately seeped out along the line. Xu Yi rubbed with his left hand, and a strip of skin rose along the bloody line. Then he slapped the Bearded Man's body more than a dozen times, producing sounds like beans popping in a wok. Pinching the lifted skin between two fingers, he pulled hard. A sickening sound like cloth being ripped rang out.

Xu Yi had actually peeled the Bearded Man's entire scalp back, ripping it straight down to his neck, just as he had done to Old Yellow Dog before it died.

Ever since the Bearded Man had been captured by Xu Yi, his throat had been clamped shut, and his spine had already been shattered. He could neither move nor scream. Now, subjected to such torture, even as a Body Tempering Late Stage expert, he trembled all over like chaff in a sieve, tears streaming down his face. His tightly pinched throat could only produce hoarse "heh-heh" sounds. The sight was unbearable.

In both his past and present lives, this was Xu Yi's first time inflicting such torture. Yet he felt not the slightest softness or discomfort, for the flames of rage in his chest were nearly burning through his brain.

Even after cruelly punishing the Bearded Man, Xu Yi's hatred remained unsated. He stomped both the man's legs to pulp, then casually hurled him away. The Bearded Man's limp body, soft as a broken sack, flew through the air and lodged atop a towering tree some thirty meters high. Like a peeled giant prawn, he dripped blood without end and wailed without cease.

Though it sounded like a long tale, everything had happened in a flash. Young Master Zhou and the Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man had not even had time to react before the Bearded Man had been tortured into neither man nor ghost!

"Aahhh!"

The Eagle-nosed Middle-aged Man was so furious that he threw back his head and howled at the sky!

Ordinarily, he did dislike the Bearded Man, believing him to possess none of a martial artist's integrity. But for Xu Yi to torture him right under his nose was no different from openly slapping him across the face!

"Xu Yi, I will make you regret ever being born!"

Young Master Zhou was even more enraged. He slapped his horse's back and leaped into the air. The treasured sword at his waist flew from its sheath, carving a streak of green light through the air as it shot for Xu Yi's throat. "Elder Feng will hold the line from the side. I'll personally flay this bastard and make his skull into my piss pot!"

Swish, swish, swish! Young Master Zhou wielded his sword like lightning, its gleam flashing brilliantly. His moves were swift, every strike aimed at a vital point. In an instant, he thrust thirteen times, and Xu Yi retreated thirteen steps.

Though none of the strikes landed, they forced the previously unstoppable Xu Yi to retreat again and again. Young Master Zhou felt a rush of satisfaction and shouted coldly, "This Rushing Thunder Sword Technique was bestowed upon me by my uncle, Lord Daogan. It came from Fairy Yuqing of the Tianshan Sect and is one of that sect's most famous sword arts. In those days, Fairy Yuqing used this sword technique alongside my uncle to sweep through the Thirty-six Forts of Crouching Ox Mountain, killing more than a hundred enemies. I have only used thirteen strikes so far, yet you could not receive even one. The killing moves to come are far too fierce—I fear your head will be severed before you can even cry out. Kneel and beg for mercy, and I will grant you an intact corpse."

"A slave is still a slave. You learned a few three-legged-cat tricks and dare strut about showing off? Use whatever skill you have. I'd like to see how much of Old Thief Daogan's true ability you learned!" Xu Yi said coldly.

That single word, "slave," struck directly at the origins of the Zhou Family's ancestors, making smoke practically pour from Young Master Zhou's nose.

For generations, the Zhou Family had been household slaves to the Xu Family. It was an everlasting pain in the hearts of the Zhou Family, hidden in their deepest, most secret corner, something they would never allow anyone to mention.

"You little bastard, you're courting death!"

Young Master Zhou roared at the sky, and the longsword in his hand traced nine consecutive sword flowers. At once, invisible ripples spread through the air, and the wildflowers on either side of the mountain path were swept into the air by the force of his aura.

Elder Feng stood with his hands clasped behind his back and smiled, taking two steps away. His eyes were full of smug satisfaction. Young Master Zhou had inherited a profound family tradition, and this Rushing Thunder Sword Technique truly had extraordinary aspects. Both were at the Body Tempering Late Stage, but Xu Yi was empty-handed while the young master wielded a treasured sword. The outcome was already decided. Even if this wilderness brat had obtained some inheritance, he would find it hard to emerge unscathed beneath the Rushing Thunder Sword.

Before Elder Feng's thought had faded, a sudden change occurred. Before Young Master Zhou could unleash his fully charged strike, Xu Yi moved. His long leg swept fiercely into a mountain rock weighing dozens of pounds, sending it hurtling like a cannonball toward Young Master Zhou.

Young Master Zhou had yet to strike with his sword when the flying rock came upon him. If he did not block it, this rock charging in from the west with such overwhelming force would leave him either dead or crippled.

Young Master Zhou was beside himself with rage. He slashed backward, and the powerful sword force shattered the incoming rock to pieces. He then surged forward, Green Sword swelling with force, just about to chop at Xu Yi when another rock came flying...

In moments, Young Master Zhou had already hacked apart dozens of flying rocks.

Young Master Zhou was nearly dizzy. When Zhou Daogan had taught him the Rushing Thunder Sword Technique, he had never said that this divine sword art, with its razor-sharp moves, was meant for chopping rocks.

Nor had he ever imagined that one day, with his formidable physical strength, he would chop rocks until both hands were sore and swollen.

"Young Master, let me deal with him!"

Elder Feng had not expected that what should have been a fine pot of soup would end up boiled into something sour.