My Martial Soul is a Grass Chicken? My Philosophy is Utter Trash?

The moment the Sword Intent shattered the pressure, Xiao Wu suddenly felt her entire body lighten. The mountain vanished, and the invisible shackles shattered.

She froze for a brief instant. The aura of this Sword Intent had been felt just this afternoon.

Was it Fang Fan?

He had slashed with his sword from who knows how far away?

He had saved her a second time?

Or was it an accident?

She did not waste the opportunity, suddenly turning and shooting toward the depths of the forest like an arrow released from a string.

Her speed was even faster than before, her toes lightly tapping on the layer of fallen leaves as she darted forward dozens of meters.

She did not dare to look back,

knowing that Tang Hao was definitely staring at her back with icy eyes.

"Don't think about escaping!"

Tang Hao's roar was like the howl of an injured beast, frantically driving his Soul Power as he tried to break free from the Sword Intent.

All the dark gold patterns on the Clear Sky Hammer lit up, the power of his Martial Soul Avatar squeezed to the limit, his entire body's muscles trembling from overload.

Yet the Sword Intent was like an invisible chain, tightly locking down his hammer.

Every single struggle felt like fighting against the entire heavens and earth.

He could only watch helplessly as the pink figure ran further and further away,

vanishing into the deep darkness of the Star Dou Forest.

The Sword Intent finally dissipated.

Tang Hao panted heavily,

the hand holding the Clear Sky Hammer trembling slightly.

The webbing of his thumb split open, seeping blood.

He gazed in the direction where Xiao Wu had vanished,

his expression as gloomy as the sky before a violent storm.

Moreover, Tang Hao's old wounds had not yet healed.

The sword strike from just now had caused his blood to churn violently,

the old wound on his chest aching faintly as he coughed up blood.

His dark red eyes flickered in the moonlight,

and instead of giving up, he chased right in.

Especially at night, the Star Dou Forest was even more dangerous.

Xiao Wu's aura merged completely with the entire forest,

like a fish returning to the vast sea or a bird entering the boundless sky.

Towering ancient trees nodded in greeting to her, vines automatically clearing a path only to quietly close behind her.

Soul Beasts surged from all directions,

ranging from low-tier Mandala Snakes to mid-tier Netherworld Wolves.

Pairs of ghostly lights lit up in the darkness like will-o'-wisps,

low growls rising one after another, filled with murderous intent.

Tang Hao's expression was gloomy. He could only suppress his Titled Douluo aura to the lowest possible level, hiding within the shadows of the ancient trees.

Losing their target, the Soul Beasts wandered around for a few circles before dispersing.

He lowered his head to look at his right hand. The wound on the webbing of his thumb was still seeping blood,

and a domineering Sword Intent lingered within the wound,

continually eroding his Soul Power.

Every time he mobilized his Soul Power to heal,

the Sword Intent pierced deep into his flesh and blood like steel needles,

puncturing his gathered Soul Power with countless holes.

It had been off by just a single fleeting instant;

his hand had almost touched Xiao Wu's shoulder,

and then that bolt of Sword Intent had arrived,

locking onto him from dozens of miles away,

slashing through the clouds and cleaving the earth,

smashing his Titled Douluo pressure to pieces.

When the Clear Sky Hammer blocked that strike,

he felt as though he were blocking a heavenly river plunging down from the vault of heaven,

and the webbing of his hand had nearly been shattered.

His Soul Power was rapidly draining away at the wound, so he had to stop to regulate his breathing.

He found a secluded cave and squeezed inside,

sitting cross-legged in its deepest recesses,

closing his eyes to engage in a tug-of-war with the lingering Sword Intent.

On the official road outside Suotuo City,

Flender pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, which now bore a cracked seam,

raised his only remaining hand to wipe away a smear of bloody filth,

and squeezed out a smiling face.

The wound on his severed arm was still seeping blood beneath the bandages,

sending a stabbing pain through him with every movement.

"You... you are Fang Fan! I'm sorry!"

He awkwardly pulled back the hand on the side of his severed arm:

"Just now was a misunderstanding. I didn't expect you guys to have a conflict with my student Ma Hongjun.

Bring the fatty up here, and apologize to Fang Fan and the two fair maidens!

Especially apologize to Zhu Zhuqing!"

Zhao Wuji hurriedly turned around,

taking long strides back to the edge of the paddy field to grab Ma Hongjun by the back of his collar,

hauling him over to the three of them like a sack of potatoes and dropping him onto the ground.

Ma Hongjun was covered in mud,

looking for all the world like a fallen, muddy pig,

and his fat wobbled as he propped himself up to climb to his feet.

"Dead fatty... you make a mistake, you apologize."

Zhao Wuji rubbed his bald head and his rear end.

"Ah?"

Ma Hongjun froze,

looking from Flender to Zhao Wuji.

He had been beaten, his crown jewels had almost been crippled, and he still had to apologize?

Evil fire surged within his body as crimson light flickered,

but when he looked at Flender's livid face,

and remembered that Sword Intent that had split the sky,

he gritted his teeth and lowered his head:

"I'm sorry! I was wrong!"

His voice was high-pitched and thin, filled with reluctance and humiliation.

"No.

We are not classmates."

Zhu Zhuqing was as cold as a winter night's wind:

"I don't accept your apology."

She didn't even spare him a direct glance.

"Exactly!"

Ning Rongrong poked the upper half of her body out from behind her, placing her hands on her hips:

"The moment we walked out of Shrek's gates, we stopped being your students.

'A Soul Master who won't make trouble is not a good Soul Master'?

Only an idiot would join!

Sixty-two enrolled and twelve graduated—what about the remaining fifty?

Were they crippled by you, or taught to death? What kind of academy is this?"

Flender opened his mouth,

His face turned alternately blue and white,

looking like a fish thrown ashore.

"Right."

Fang Fan suddenly spoke, his voice lazy yet his eyes clear.

"You said you taught the youngest elder of Spirit Hall?

The academy was founded less than twenty years ago, and the first batch of students is at most thirty-five years old now.

The youngest elder of Spirit Hall was a Titled Douluo over forty.

The youngest Titled Douluo in mainland history was Tang Hao, who broke through at forty-four.

So—

did this student of yours time-travel?"

Flender's heart was clenched.

This lie was a gimmick he had wrung his brains to fabricate,

something ordinary people could not possibly know.

Yet this youth knew everything.

Zhao Wuji froze and turned his head to look at Flender.

The embarrassment, awkwardness, and guilt on Flender's face were all written under the moonlight.

Li Yusong could not keep his old face composed, feeling only a burning sensation on his cheeks.

Now it was fine; this youth would be even less likely to join Shrek.

They certainly dared not use force now.

After all, Fang Fan had a Peak Douluo standing behind him.

"Let's go."

Flender gritted his teeth and squeezed out three words, turning to leave.

"Want to leave just like that?"

Fang Fan's voice was lazy and casual, yet it nailed Flender's feet to the ground.

Flender's foot froze halfway up and slowly put it back down.

"If we were a bit weaker, wouldn't Zhuqing have been taken away by Ma Hongjun?

If I didn't have a Peak Douluo as backing,

or Sword Intent protecting my body,

wouldn't I also have been forcibly taken away by you?"

Every single word pierced into the heart like a small knife,

carving deep and viciously,

because he spoke the truth.

If Fang Fan lacked strength,

how the story would go today is that Ma Hongjun would use the Evil Fire Phoenix to suppress Zhu Zhuqing and forcibly take her away.

Flender and Zhao Wuji, upon arriving and seeing their student bullying others,

would protect their own without asking right from wrong,

subduing Fang Fan and Ning Rongrong as well to force them to submit and apologize.

Everyone understood this ending in their hearts, but Flender would die before admitting it.

He turned his head, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"What on earth do you want?"

Fang Fan hooked the corners of his mouth slightly,

leaning back against Zhu Zhuqing's shoulder again, and lazily stretched out two fingers.

"Two paths.

Ma Hongjun—slap your own face a hundred times, saying 'His martial soul is a grass chicken' with every slap."

Ma Hongjun's fat face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver.

Making him say his Phoenix martial soul was a grass chicken in front of everyone and slap his own face

was more painful than killing him.

"You—"

Flender's face also turned ugly to the extreme.

"I haven't finished."

Fang Fan gently shook his fingertips.

"Flender, you're the same. Slap your own face a hundred times.

With every slap, say 'My teaching philosophy is worse than dog shit'.

You can leave once you're done."

He paused,

took another sip of the wine handed over by Zhu Zhuqing,

and narrowed his eyes slightly, adding the last three words in a tone that was so flat it seemed careless:

"Otherwise, bear the consequences!"