Dark Clouds

"Heh heh, then I'll thank Brother Wan for the precious medicine and silver.

"My disciple truly is a king of luck—his words became prophecy!"

Li Qingliang made no attempt to hide his smile as he looked at Wan Ting with blatant teasing.

What was wrong with being lucky? Sometimes, luck was also a form of strength.

The other martial academy masters, Feng Tengyun included, were all trying their hardest not to laugh.

He had called someone a king of luck, and now look—he had drawn a bye straight into the next round.

Anyone with eyes could see there was a gap in strength between Yang Qi and Zhang Chong.

Compete over who could go farther? The other side had directly taken second place, all right.

"Hmph!" Wan Ting snorted coldly, still retorting, "The results aren't out yet!

"Don't celebrate too soon, you old bastard Li!"

Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, his momentum grew weaker and weaker. Even he himself did not believe them.

Could Yang Qi defeat Zhang Chong? The answer was surely as difficult as climbing to the heavens.

Was there any way?

There was. He could take the kind of medicine that suddenly boosted one's strength, at the cost of being unable to recover for half a month or even a month.

He might as well just give Zhou Muyun the precious medicine directly.

After turning it over and over in his mind, Wan Ting had no good solution.

Waiting until Yang Qi and Zhang Chong finished their match before handing over the wager was his final stubbornness.

Hearing this, Li Qingliang did not continue speaking.

Since Wan Ting wanted to wait for the result, then Li Qingliang would let him give up completely.

Below the stage, the two rested contestants stepped onto the arena.

"Senior Brother Zhang, please enlighten me."

Facing Zhang Chong, Yang Qi showed no fear. If anything, his fighting spirit burned fiercely.

"Good," Zhang Chong replied flatly.

The next second, the two instantly clashed in battle.

Yang Qi knew full well that there was a gap between himself and Zhang Chong. Only by trading injury for injury would he have a chance.

Like a mad dog, he did not dodge Zhang Chong's attacks in the slightest, determined to use the most mutually destructive style of fighting.

Zhang Chong frowned slightly, clearly unwilling to fight that way.

At first glance, Yang Qi actually seemed to have gained a faint upper hand.

"Well done, Yang Qi!"

Wan Ting's mood went from overcast to clear skies. Could there really be a chance?

On the stage, Zhang Chong continuously evaded while Yang Qi relentlessly attacked.

Watching Zhang Chong's retreating figure, Yang Qi knew his strategy was working.

He was the one leading his opponent by the nose now.

But this method had a fatal flaw—it could not last long.

If he could not win within this period, he would fall into exhaustion.

With that thought, Yang Qi took a deep breath and gathered his killing move.

He bent slightly at the waist, then fiercely stomped down with his right foot, cracking the ground with several fissures. His entire body shot forth like an arrow released from the bowstring.

His right arm drew back, then swung forward as his right palm slammed toward Zhang Chong's chest. It was the Surging Stream Palm technique, Raging Torrent.

This move emphasized speed, precision, and ruthlessness, like a surging river—swift and violent.

Zhang Chong's expression turned grave as he raised his head slightly.

On the viewing platform, Feng Tengyun had risen to his feet at some unknown point.

He gave Zhang Chong a slight nod.

Zhang Chong understood instantly. His master was telling him that there was no need to hold back any longer.

"Since you want to trade injury for injury, then come."

This time, he no longer dodged and directly met Yang Qi head-on.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Palms and legs collided, and explosive booms rang out without end.

Why was he no longer dodging? And what exactly was that sensation on contact?

Yang Qi was horrified. He had never expected his opponent to trade injury for injury with him as well.

No, he even felt that his opponent might not have been injured at all.

Every strike felt as though it had landed on a giant drum. His force simply could not penetrate through.

The two exchanged dozens of moves in an instant.

Zhang Chong grew fiercer with every strike, while Yang Qi became increasingly unable to hold on.

As Zhang Chong kicked Yang Qi off the arena, the curtain fell on the match.

Zhang Chong advanced to the finals.

Looking at his disciple who had been kicked off the stage, Wan Ting could not hide the dejection on his face.

In the end, he had still failed to win.

"Once again, I thank Brother Wan on Zhou Muyun's behalf for the precious medicine and silver.

"Remember to bring them tomorrow. So many people here have witnessed the wager!"

Li Qingliang's ill-timed voice rang out again.

"No need for your reminder. I, Wan Ting, can afford to lose!"

Wan Ting flicked his sleeve and left. He had no desire to remain and be treated as a laughingstock.

"Congratulations, Brother Feng. I'm afraid Zhang Chong will take first place in this tournament."

"Yes, Zhang Chong has cut through every obstacle along the way. His strength is beyond doubt."

"This boy's future prospects are boundless."

At this moment, the martial academy masters, including Song Changsheng of Long Teng, all began offering congratulations.

In their eyes, Zhou Muyun, that king of luck, was far inferior to Zhang Chong.

Feng Tengyun remained the same as ever, merely nodding slightly without saying much.

But at this moment, he thought the same way in his heart.

Zhang Chong's championship was already as certain as a nail driven into a board.

Li Qingliang said nothing upon hearing this.

That was because he too felt Zhou Muyun was more than a little inferior to Zhang Chong.

If Zhang Chong had only displayed the strength he had shown earlier, Li Qingliang felt Zhou Muyun might still have had a slight chance.

But when he saw Zhang Chong use Feng Tengyun's unique secret technique, he knew there was no chance left at all.

At night, within the Zhou Household's courtyard.

Having just finished body refinement, Zhou Muyun sat on the ground and recalled the day's battles.

Yang Qi fought like a mad dog, and his strength could not be underestimated. Every move had been deadly.

Zhang Chong had continuously evaded at first, and that had naturally been the correct choice.

After all, not everyone cultivated body refinement alongside their martial arts like Zhou Muyun did.

Moreover, body refinement only made the flesh stronger; it did not mean one could not be injured.

But why had Zhang Chong abandoned his evasive approach later and chosen to trade injury for injury instead?

Anyone with eyes could see that Yang Qi had begun to panic, afraid of exhausting himself.

Would it not have been better to enter the finals uninjured and fight Zhou Muyun then?

Or did he have some other reliance?

Or perhaps he too possessed some secret technique or body-refinement cultivation method?

Zhou Muyun could not figure it out no matter how he pondered it.

Fortunately, he stopped thinking about it and continued training.

After all, every additional bit of training increased his strength by another bit.

Meanwhile, beneath the World-Saving Sect.

Han Shan met with the man in black once more.

"Do you know how much of a headache you've caused me by cleaning up the mess you made during this time?"

The black-clothed man's expression could not be seen, but his tone was filled with anger.

"Hahahaha."

Han Shan laughed heartily. "Though I can't see your face, just imagining that expression makes me happy."

"Han Shan, do you still want to cooperate? Believe it or not, tomorrow I'll bring people here and tear this place apart."

Hearing Han Shan mock him, the black-robed man clearly grew even angrier, his tone turning hostile.

"Tear it apart? You don't want the Blood Pills anymore?"

Han Shan shrugged, utterly unafraid.

At the words "Blood Pills," the black-robed man visibly wavered.

"Fine!" The hoarse voice ground out through clenched teeth. "I'll continue cleaning up your mess, but the Blood Pills...

"Heh heh. If you can't produce them when the time comes, I'll have your head rolling on the ground!"

With that, the black-robed man turned and left.

Yet he suddenly turned back again, and several cold flashes shot from beneath his robe, flying straight toward Han Shan's face.

"Heh heh, do you think the same move can work on me twice?"

Han Shan merely smiled faintly. His entire body spun into motion, dodging every flying needle.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

The flying needles pierced into the rock walls, leaving hole after hole behind.

"Hmph." Seeing that it had failed, the black-robed man snorted and truly left.

"Really now, again and again, he refuses to put me in his eyes."

Han Shan stared toward where the black-robed man had departed and muttered under his breath.

Then he looked toward the blood pool, revealing a strange smile as he took out a flute and began to play.

As the flute's melody rose, bubbles continuously emerged from the blood pool.

Buzzzzz...

The sound of flapping wings rang out continuously. In an instant, black insects appeared in the cave like dark clouds, quickly filling the entire cavern.

"My Blood Demon Sect has been hidden from the world for far too long. My little treasures, how about we give them a huge surprise?"

Looking at the insects filling the cave, Han Shan's eyes flickered with cold light.

The black-robed man, the Yunlin Chamber of Commerce, the four great Lineages—they would all become nourishment!

"I truly hope that day comes soon."

Han Shan felt that he needed to stir up the conflict within the city a little more.

The greater the chaos, the more favorable it would be for him!