The Master with the Broken Leg

"Now," her voice remained indifferent, yet it struck Yu Xiaogang and everyone present like a cold hammer of judgment, echoing clearly through the deathly silent garden.

"Tell me, Grandmaster."

"In the face of absolute power, how much value remains in your theories for judging ants and moths?"

"You, who cannot even stand steady, what qualifications do you have to recklessly critique the paths of others?"

Every word was like a red-hot branding iron, searing into Yu Xiaogang's crumbling self-esteem.

His body shook more violently, a rattling sound emerging from his throat, yet he could not utter a single word of defense, left only with endless humiliation.

Qian Renxue's gaze finally shifted from Yu Xiaogang, landing on the face of the anxious Tang San.

That look remained calm, deep as a cold pool, yet it made Tang San's heart sink abruptly.

"For your sake, Little San, I will not kill him," Qian Renxue said softly.

Upon hearing this, Tang San's tightly wound heartstrings loosened just a fraction.

But the next moment, Qian Renxue's figure, guarded by the Radiant Emperor War Dragon, moved.

There were no superfluous motions, no flash of soul skills. She merely raised her right hand casually, index and middle fingers pressed together like a sword, and pointed through the air at the kneeling, defenseless Yu Xiaogang!

"Pop! Pop!"

Two dull, teeth-grinding sounds of bone fracturing, accompanied by Yu Xiaogang's heart-wrenching, inhuman shriek, suddenly shattered the silence of the garden!

It was as if an invisible heavy hammer had smashed into Yu Xiaogang's knees; he jerked backward, then curled up and convulsed from the excruciating pain.

His two legs were twisted at a grotesque angle, the knees visibly collapsed and deformed, with jagged white bone fragments piercing through skin and his gray robes, instantly staining the ground red.

"Ugh, ahhh—!!!"

Yu Xiaogang's scream was as shrill as a dying beast, the agony completely destroying his remaining sanity.

His body writhed and rolled frantically on the ground, beads of sweat mixed with dirt and blood smearing his face, which was contorted in pain.

"Teacher!!!"

Tang San's eyes were bloodshot as he desperately tried to rush forward, but the vast pressure of the Radiant Emperor War Dragon acted like a wall of copper and iron, pinning him firmly in place, forcing him to watch his teacher suffer such torture.

Xiao Wu covered her mouth, her eyes filled with terror and a trace of unbearable pity.

Although she disliked Yu Xiaogang's bitterness, she had never expected "Brother Ye Yang" to strike with such ruthless decisiveness!

Qian Renxue slowly retracted her finger, as if she had merely brushed away a speck of dust. She looked down from above at the wailing Yu Xiaogang, whose legs were shattered, her eyes devoid of mercy, holding only cold indifference.

"Your knees, it seems, were never meant to support you while you speak."

Qian Renxue's voice was as cold as an icy spring, sounding exceptionally clear against the backdrop of Yu Xiaogang's shrill wails. "For the rest of your life, continue to kneel and contemplate your theories."

"Perhaps, from a kneeling perspective, you will be able to see more clearly—see clearly exactly what kind of thing you are."

As her words fell, the phantom of the Radiant Emperor War Dragon that coiled around her, radiating endless pressure, let out a low and majestic dragon roar before dissolving into golden light, scattering like stardust into the air.

That suffocating, terrifying pressure vanished along with it.

With the pressure suddenly gone, Tang San stumbled, nearly falling, but he immediately steadied himself and lunged like an arrow from a bow toward Yu Xiaogang, who lay on the ground, gasping for breath with his legs a bloody mess.

"Teacher! Teacher! Are you alright!" Tang San's voice carried a sob and unprecedented panic as he quickly tore off his own robes, attempting to stop the bleeding and bandage Yu Xiaogang.

He poured his gentle Mysterious Heaven Technique soul power into Yu Xiaogang without restraint, trying to ease his pain and stabilize his condition.

Xiao Wu also hurried over to help, her face turning deathly pale as she looked at the gruesome wounds.

Qian Renxue did not even glance at this display of teacher-student devotion, turning and walking toward the gate.

Tang San suddenly raised his head, looking at Qian Renxue's retreating back, his eyes filled with complex emotions—anger, confusion, deep wariness, and even... a trace of fear that he was forcibly suppressing.

"Brother Ye Yang... why?!" Tang San asked hoarsely, his voice trembling.

Qian Renxue paused slightly, but did not look back. Her cold voice seemed to arrive from a great distance, delivered clearly to Tang San's ears:

"He attacked first, attempting to take my life. Breaking his legs is already the lightest punishment, granted for your sake."

"Remember, Little San. Power is the only truth in this world. The theories your teacher is so proud of... cannot save him."

With that, she stopped lingering, her figure quickly disappearing around the corner of the academy gate, as if she had never appeared at all.

Left behind in the garden were Yu Xiaogang, who was wailing and nearly fainting while clutching his broken legs; Tang San, who held his teacher with a pale face and unreadable eyes; and Xiao Wu, who stood by, at a loss and still shaken.

In the air, the heavy scent of blood and Yu Xiaogang's painful groans silently recounted everything that had just occurred.

That high-and-mighty "Grandmaster" was, at this moment, exactly as Qian Renxue had said: he had completely lost the qualification to stand, left only to crawl in the dust in humiliation.

Meanwhile, inside the Heaven Dou Imperial Palace.

Xue Beng's bedchamber was filled with a heavy medicinal odor.

Xue Beng lay on his stomach atop the ornate silk quilt; the whip wounds on his back had been carefully treated, but every breath pulled at the piercing pain, which was far less intense than the humiliation and resentment in his heart.

The servants in the hall had been violently driven away by him, leaving only a deathly silence.

"Bang!" The heavy palace doors were pushed open violently, and a tall, majestic figure strode in with the momentum of wind and thunder—it was Prince Xue Xing.

He wore the purple-gold python robe symbolizing his status as a prince, his face so gloomy it seemed ready to drip water, his sharp gaze instantly locking onto the disheveled Xue Beng on the bed.

Watching his nephew in such a miserable state, a flicker of heartache crossed Prince Xue Xing's eyes, though his face burned with raging fury.

He suppressed his temper, walked to the bedside, and asked in a low voice, "Your Highness, the Fourth Prince, do you know where you went wrong yesterday?"

Xue Beng had just been about to pour out his grievances to the uncle he was closest to, but upon hearing this, his expression froze, and he immediately glared at Xue Xing.

"Even you think I was wrong, Uncle? But this whole thing was clearly that guy Xue Qinghe twisting the truth, and Father too..."

"Shut your mouth!" Prince Xue Xing interrupted him roughly, his chest heaving violently; he was clearly enraged to the extreme.

"I am asking you, who gave you the nerve to act like a common street shrew, running into the imperial court and wailing your accusations in front of all the civil and military officials?!"