One Day as Master, a Lifetime as Father

Ma Teng's Dao Heart shattered.

It shattered so completely that it could never be pieced back together.

Qin Zhong watched him in this state, unable to hold back a shake of his head as he offered a kindly reminder.

"Alright, Brother Ma, stop muttering."

"If we don't leave soon, the food at the Heavenly Fragrance Tower will get cold."

"Pffft—!"

This remark proved to be the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Hearing this, Ma Teng snapped back to reality, a dying-beast rattle tearing from deep within his throat.

Immediately after, a mouthful of fresh blood burst forth, no longer suppressible.

"Oh, boundless heavens, why must you torment me so?"

Ma Teng let out a mournful howl toward the heavens, his vital energy and spirit completely drained in that single instant as he stumbled down the arena, his retreating figure utterly desolate.

"Tsk tsk, look at what kind of state you beat that kid into."

Li Xiang watched the scene from below the stage, unable to help shaking his head.

Was Ma Teng weak?

No, he was very strong.

Whether in martial arts or spear techniques, he stood out as a leader among his peers.

Yet of all people, he should never, ever have fought Ye Qingyao when using Knife-Clasping Hand-Wrestling.

Wing Chun was, after all, the very ancestor of Knife-Clasping Hand-Wrestling, and coupled with Ye Qingyao's peerless innate talent and aptitude, she was destined to be a seed of the Sage Patriarch.

Ma Teng's tribulation was inevitable.

"Lü Baichuan of the Eight Gates Martial Hall requests a spar."

Lü Baichuan stepped onto the stage, ignoring Ma Teng's farce. He cupped his fists toward Qin Zhong with standard movements, a solemn expression on his face as he executed a standard martial cultivator's bow.

Qin Zhong froze for a moment,