Wuwei Martial Arts Hall's Senior Disciple

Seeing these people in white training uniforms surrounding him, Xia Ping's eyes flickered, but he was not alarmed. This was the school entrance, and in such a public place, he reckoned these people wouldn't dare to make a move.

Besides, even if they really did make a move, he wasn't afraid.

"You are Xia Ping?"

The person speaking was a young man with a buzz cut, roughly seventeen or eighteen years old. His body was sturdy and robust, his eyes sharp as a god's, and his entire being radiated a powerful aura.

Every movement he made seemed natural and effortless; it was as if he had integrated martial arts into his very gait. Xia Ping immediately recognized that this man was an expert, even stronger than Zhou Tai'an.

"That's me. What do you want with me?" Xia Ping looked at the buzz-cut man indifferently.

The man's eyes flashed with a menacing light, aggressive and overbearing: "I am Yao Zhong, the head disciple of the Wuwei Martial Arts Hall. Zhou Tai'an also trains at this hall, which means he is my junior brother. Do you understand what that implies?"

His massive aura pressed down, seemingly trying to force Xia Ping into submission.

"So that's it. Zhou Tai'an couldn't beat me, so he sent his senior brother to cause trouble?" Xia Ping looked at him with disdain. "Beat the small one, and the old one comes out. It seems Zhou Tai'an really is someone who can't afford to lose."

"Shut your mouth, you brat, you don't know a damn thing."

"Who are you calling a sore loser? Don't go spreading rumors here, you punk."

"Senior Brother Zhou didn't send us; we came here on our own."

A group of men in white training uniforms shouted indignantly, glaring at Xia Ping as if they wanted to devour him alive. If others were led to believe that their Wuwei Martial Arts Hall was full of sore losers, their reputation would be ruined.

"It seems you're not only despicable and shameless, but your mouth is also quite venomous."

Yao Zhong stared at Xia Ping: "But martial artists rely on strength and skill; the strong are respected, not those who just run their mouths. People who only know how to talk will never amount to anything more than that in their entire lives."

A cold smirk appeared on the corner of his mouth.

Xia Ping said calmly: "Is that so? Your junior brother seems to have been defeated by someone who only knows how to run his mouth, and with a single punch, he was crippled to the point where he couldn't even crawl."

"Shut up! Did I give you permission to speak? You don't know what's good for you!"

With a boom, a cold glint flashed in Yao Zhong's eyes. He struck suddenly, swinging a palm toward Xia Ping's face with a whistling sound, carrying immense power.

Furthermore, this palm strike was incredibly eerie and terrifying. In an instant, countless palm shadows appeared in the air, like butterflies dancing through flowers, making it impossible to distinguish the real from the fake.

Whoosh!

Xia Ping didn't even look; his figure flickered, and he retreated a few steps, dodging the palm strike with ease.

With a bang, the palm struck empty air. The powerful force vibrated, sending shockwaves outward that instantly left a clear palm print on a nearby concrete wall, causing gravel to tumble down with a clatter.

"What? This brat actually dodged the Senior Brother's Thousand Illusion Palm? How is this possible?" The group of men in white training uniforms were shocked. They had intended to watch a good show, expecting to see this kid get slapped by their senior brother—a strike that would likely knock out a few teeth and leave him sprawled on the ground like a dog, mouth full of blood.

Yet, this kid had dodged the strike with ease, appearing completely unruffled.

"You've got some skill. No wonder you were able to defeat my junior brother, Zhou Tai'an." Yao Zhong's eyes flashed. "To be able to dodge my Thousand Illusion Palm, it seems you aren't just a fraud."

He was a Martial Disciple of the Seventh Heaven, and he had launched a surprise attack, catching his opponent off guard. Yet, this kid had managed to dodge it; such a state was highly unusual.

"You want to die?!" A flicker of anger appeared in Xia Ping's eyes. This guy was clearly looking for a fight. If he hadn't dodged just now, he would have been sent flying by that slap, his face swollen and thoroughly humiliated.

"Looking for death?"

Yao Zhong sneered: "With your strength, you want to make a move on me? I advise you to swallow your pride. Even if you luckily dodged one strike, you are no match for me."

"Besides, I didn't come here to fight you. I only came to warn you: don't be too arrogant, or you'll meet with disaster sooner or later."

"My junior brother may have lost to you this time, but that doesn't mean he will lose to you in the future."

"He will avenge this grudge himself. Just you wait."

After saying this, he turned to leave with his group.

"You took a swing at me, and you think you can just walk away?" Xia Ping looked at Yao Zhong indifferently. "Take a punch from me, and let's see if you have the qualifications to talk big."

In an instant, his body moved. His aura surged, and he crossed three or four meters in a flash, appearing before Yao Zhong to deliver a sudden, thunderous punch.

Dragon Fist: Azure Dragon Moves the Heavens!

"What?!"

Yao Zhong's expression changed drastically. He never expected this kid to dare to strike back, to attack a Seventh Heaven Martial Disciple like himself. He was caught completely off guard.

This punch was incredibly fierce and domineering, radiating thousands of pounds of force. It roared like a dragon, shaking the very heavens.

In his haste, he could only raise his hands in a defensive stance. When the fist collided with his palms, the force exploded. Unable to withstand the terrifying power, Yao Zhong was sent flying backward.

Bang!

His body slammed hard into the school wall, carving out a human-shaped crater. Gravel splattered, dust billowed, and he couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood as his internal organs were injured.

"You dare spout such nonsense at me with this little bit of skill? You, Yao Zhong, aren't qualified. Do you understand?" Xia Ping stood with his hands behind his back, looking calmly at the man he had sent flying.

"If you provoke me again, I'll cripple you with a single punch and send you to the hospital, just like your idiot junior brother."

Hearing this, the group of men in white training uniforms were enraged, ready to explode.

"You dare to be this arrogant after a sneak attack?!"

"You actually dared to strike Senior Brother Yao; you're looking for death."

"Everyone, let's go together and finish him off! Show him what we're made of!"

They were driven mad with fury.

"Want to start something? You'd better weigh the consequences," Xia Ping sneered. "This is Tianshui City No. 95 Middle School, my turf. One shout from me, and hundreds of my brothers will come pouring out."

"If you're looking to die, then go ahead and make your move."

Hearing this, the dozen or so men in white training uniforms were instantly stunned, a hint of cowardice creeping in. Only now did they remember whose territory they were on; they were standing right at the school gates.

If this kid really did let out a shout, hundreds of people might charge out and beat them to a pulp. If that happened, they would be in for a miserable time—at the very least, they'd be spending months in the hospital.

For a moment, they exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do.