The essence of the God-Man Drumbeat Fist lies in the qi dynamic between the two fists, resembling the rising and setting of the sun and moon in the sky, the birth, aging, sickness, and death of mortals – a grand and inevitable cycle.

Chen Ping’an, having reached the fifth realm, was able to separate his soul into three after the battle at Gu Niu Mountain in the Lotus Root Blessing Land. Sadly, he could only sustain this for a single breath’s time. However, when combined with the utterly unreasonable God-Man Drumbeat Fist, delivering just one punch was more than sufficient.

One punch struck the eunuch, sounding like a drum beaten on the battlefield. Instantly, over a dozen punches rained down, each blow landing heavily and resonating deeply.

Chen Ping’an’s separated souls rejoined his body.

After all, he was not a proper Qi Refiner. Separating the soul from the body for too long would damage his foundation.

Conversely, when the eunuch in python robes made his first move, aside from being shocked by the grand eunuch’s high level of cultivation – being able to simultaneously send his Yin spirit forth and his Yang spirit on a far journey, a clear indication of an Earth Immortal – the Yao clan members felt something even more incredible. Wasn’t it said that this Grand Warden of the Pagoda Tree of Great Spring was a grandmaster of martial arts? How had he transformed into an immortal cultivating immortality on the mountains?

The Grand Eunuch, Overseer of the Imperial Horse Stable of the Great Spring Dynasty, miscalculated. He had not anticipated the high quality of the robe Chen Ping’an wore, which forcefully blocked his Yin spirit’s deadly move of tearing out the heart. Several grandmasters in the Great Spring martial world had died by this very technique. There would be no truly bloody scene, but it would cause a person’s “heart field” to crack, instantly severing the connection between the heart meridian and all acupoints. After death, the person would become like rotten, withered wood, similar to the method of breaking the Bridge of Longevity with a single punch.

The eunuch being regarded as a grandmaster of martial arts was not a clumsy smokescreen meant to deceive opponents. Rather, he possessed a genuinely grandmaster-level physique, with strong blood and qi, and sturdy muscles and bones, comparable to a peak sixth realm pure martial artist.

Therefore, whether engaging in close combat or confronting with mountain techniques and long-range magical artifacts, the eunuch in python robes possessed both, and thus feared trading blows with others the least.

However, after receiving the second punch, the eunuch realized something was amiss. It wasn’t that his opponent’s fist energy was particularly remarkable, but that he shouldn’t have been unable to dodge.

After five punches, the eunuch understood, roughly piecing together the reasoning and underlying principles of the punch.

After ten punches, the eunuch seemed to completely abandon the idea of dodging, choosing not to avoid the fight.

Instead, he chose to trade injury for injury.

During this time, flying swords Beginning One and Fifteen each targeted the eunuch’s Yin spirit and Yang spirit.

A eunuch in python robes who seemed like a pure martial artist but was actually a Qi Refiner, and a Chen Ping’an who seemed like a sword cultivator but was actually a pure martial artist.

The two fought fiercely within a confined space, between their arms. This fight was extremely crude, compared to Sui Youbian’s swordplay on the second floor, Lu Baixiang and Xu Qingzhou’s shining blades, and Wei Xian’s magnificent battle outside the inn, surrounded by dazzling magical artifacts and myriad spectacles.

Chen Ping’an and the Great Spring eunuch’s battle, besides being fast, possessed nothing else. It was dry and monotonous, yet extremely dangerous.

The two tables of attendants had already retreated to the stairwell, knowing that they were not even qualified to intervene in the chaotic battle inside the inn.

Zhu Lian, the only one idle, did not intervene, not even glancing at them.

The scholar surnamed Zhong leaned against the counter, gazing at Chen Ping’an.

He had traveled the world and had never seen a pure martial artist who could perform a fist technique so… smoothly.

Since he was young, he must have traveled far, seeing many high mountains and great rivers.

He had no murderous intent, no ferocity, no fierceness, not even a strong desire to win.

Yet his momentum was still abundant.

The scholar was curious about the young man’s martial arts philosophy.

However, human strength has its limits. The backlash of fist intent that one’s own body can withstand is a path of harming oneself eight hundred for every thousand enemies slain. Facing the famous Great Spring Warden of the Pagoda Tree, Li Li, if the young man’s fist technique stopped there, even if he managed to “kill” Li Li with his final punch at the cost of injury, it would still not be enough, far from enough.

There was a reason why pure martial artists were not valued by the world, not revered by the court, while those who cultivated the Dao were worshipped.

A thousand techniques, broken by a single sword.

This saying was widespread in the mountains, and many people thought it was due to the killing power of sword cultivators. However, that was not entirely true. The word “thousand” had already revealed the power of cultivators.

Chen Ping’an’s final God-Man Drumbeat Fist indeed shattered the eunuch in python robes with one punch. Even the crimson python robe seemed to be an illusion.

However, when Chen Ping’an discovered that there was no blood splatter, he knew something was wrong. He immediately used the Town Spirit Head Stance, a defensive posture that used sword techniques in a roundabout way as boxing. He retreated again and again. Fortunately, Beginning One, whose stab had inexplicably missed, had already appeared in front of him. Along with the golden livery of his robe, he should be able to buy a breath of fresh pure qi.

The Vast World was not the Lotus Root Blessing Land. Here, fellow martial artists and all Qi Refiners would stare intently at a pure martial artist’s moment of qi exchange.

Eunuch Li Li’s action was similar to the substitute talisman of the formation master outside the Flying Eagle Fort, though Li Li used the destruction and dissipation of a Yang spirit to replace his true body, transferring to the position where Flying Sword Beginning One confronted. Chen Ping’an’s God-Man Drumbeat Fist, delivered with no reservation, was already at the end of its power.

The dissipation of the Yang spirit only dimmed the luster of Li Li’s nascent golden core slightly.

The Yin spirit once again used the heart-tearing technique, its five fingers like hooks, reaching in and tearing through, as if punching through paper. The golden livery of the robe was like highly resilient Xuan paper, preventing Chen Ping’an’s soul from collapsing immediately, protecting his heart field. However, the golden livery was also restrained as a result. Not only that, the Flying Sword Beginning One, which was blocking in front of Chen Ping’an, was mired in the mud, trapped within the Yin spirit’s body.

Li Li had already appeared beside Chen Ping’an, scattering the fist intent of the Town Spirit Head Stance with a palm. He took a step forward, pressing his two fingers together, and struck Chen Ping’an’s temple.

Chen Ping’an slid sideways.

Li Li’s strength lay not in his status as a half-Earth Immortal standing on the threshold of the Golden Core Realm, but in his all-encompassing offense and defense without relying on external objects.

As for whether Li Li had any trump card magical artifacts, it was hard to say.
Li Li did not press his advantage. He stood his ground, the hand that had scattered the Spirit-Suppressing Head earlier was now clenched into a fist, then quickly released. As his palm opened, the lines on his palm began to meander with vitality, the threads a vivid scarlet. Finally, they resembled a vermillion talisman. This talisman brushed across the two fingers Chen Ping An had aimed at his temple, and Li Li silently chanted the words “Activate Talisman.”

Chen Ping An, who was about to desperately gasp for air, felt as if a mountain was bearing down on him. Upon the gilded armor of his Dharma Robe Jinli, on the sleeves and shoulders, appeared talismans radiating spiritual light.

Blood trickled from Chen Ping An’s temple.

“I also have a punch,” Li Li said with a smile as he stepped forward. “Consider it the hospitality of my Great Spring Dynasty.” While he spoke, the old eunuch in his python robe, sleeves billowing, tilted his head to evade the flying sword, Beginning One, aimed at the back of his head. He pinched the sword with his fingers, lightly tossed it away, striking Fifteen who stood not far away.

In a single step, Li Li stood before Chen Ping An.

Li Li’s left hand, bearing the talisman, seemingly casually rested on Chen Ping An’s chest, while his right fist slammed down onto the back of his left hand.

Like a heavy hammer driving in a nail, the blow struck with tremendous force into the Dharma Robe Jinli.

Chen Ping An staggered back several steps.

Li Li followed like a shadow, again striking his palm with his fist, delivering another blow. Chen Ping An’s Dharma Robe Jinli billowed violently, the spiritual energy of mountains and rivers within the sleeves and the martial aura of a warrior shattered and scattered.

Chen Ping An retreated again and again.

This time, Li Li did not follow, but instead extended a finger, pinching a golden rope that had appeared out of nowhere around his neck. With a forceful tug, it drew a bloody groove on his neck. Li Li seemed oblivious to these injuries, allowing the golden rope, which appeared to be a Demon-Binding Cord, to wrap around his wrist. The sleeves of his python robe were torn and shredded, leaving bluish-purple marks on his arm. Li Li clicked his tongue and said, “You have many treasures on you, another magical artifact. But alas, you are neither a swordsman nor a qi cultivator. You use them poorly. Otherwise, my third punch would not have had the chance to come so quickly.”

It turned out that after Li Li’s right hand was entangled by the golden Demon-Binding Cord, his left hand, bearing the talisman, clenched into a fist once more. He merely pointed it remotely at Chen Ping An’s forehead, and as if struck by a heavy blow, Chen Ping An’s brow split open, blood oozing out. His head tilted backward, but Chen Ping An stepped heavily on the ground, refusing to fall.

A shadow of gloom flashed in the depths of Li Li’s eyes. Behind him, the two flying swords, Beginning One and Fifteen, were locked in an unending entanglement with his Nascent Soul.

Li Li sneered, “Two little things, as loyal as the Yao clan. Unfortunately, you seem to not be objects of life-bound nature. Your power is greatly reduced. If I could erase your spirituality, perhaps I could use you for my own purposes. A pleasant surprise, one might say.”

His Nascent Soul, in an instant, grew three heads and six arms, its face completely changed. It was no longer the likeness of Li Li, the “middle-aged eunuch,” but rather the faces of three martial temple deities of the Great Spring Dynasty: a burly man with a large beard, a refined scholar-general, and a simple, honest old man. The three pairs of arms held a pair of iron maces, twin axes, and an iron spear, all suffused with the power of incense.

Although Li Li was distracted by the “clash” between his Nascent Soul and the two flying swords, it did not hinder his vigilance towards Chen Ping An.

This Great Spring Guardian Locust Tree, renowned throughout the central countries of Tongye Continent, had lost the initial advantage, but afterwards had firmly taken the upper hand. However, he had not expected that the young man, after taking so many punches, with blood still flowing from his temple, still appeared as if nothing had happened. His spirit, which was more profound than his fist intent, not only had not fallen to its nadir, but was still rising?

But it didn’t matter. Li Li could still whittle away at the young man’s foundation slowly. Even if the young man threw another flurry of chaotic punches, the worst that could happen was that he would temporarily lose his Nascent Soul. But the young man’s body and soul would definitely not be able to withstand it. It wasn’t that Li Li didn’t want to end the battle quickly, but he simply couldn’t find a way to deliver the final blow. An ordinary seventh-realm martial artist, or a Dragon Gate Realm cultivator, would have already been killed by him twice over.

Lu Baixiang was at a disadvantage in his fight against Xu Qingzhou.

Firstly, Lu Baixiang was not like Wei Xian. He had only recently emerged from the painting, and had not yet adapted to the spiritual qi pouring into him. Secondly, Xu Qingzhou wore the Golden Crow Meridian Armor. If not for the narrow blade Tingxue in his hand, a relic of a deceased Nascent Soul Earth Immortal from Mount Taiping, Lu Baixiang would likely have no chance to retaliate.

However, although Lu Baixiang had visible bone-deep wounds on his chest and shoulders, the founding patriarch of the Devil Sect of Lotus Flower Blessed Land still appeared nonchalant, as if his interest in the swordsmanship of the Great Spring general Xu Qingzhou far exceeded his desire to defeat him.

Sui Youbian’s battle against Xu Tong of the Herb Cottage, although she was born a martial artist, resembled a contest between two qi cultivators.

Xu Tong clearly regarded the woman as a swordmaster. Even if she was troublesome, as long as she hadn’t nurtured a life-bound flying sword, it would be fine.

Outside the gate, Wei Xian was fighting with great gusto.

With an endless stream of robust martial aura, plus the Nectar Armor given to him by Chen Ping An, the slight wounds inflicted by those who had slipped through the net were nothing to him.

The two sides were fighting, but they were also paying close attention to the outcome of the fight between the eunuch Li Li and Chen Ping An.

Sui Youbian took the lead and asked, “Young Master?”

The wounded Chen Ping An could only shake his head and did not speak.

A mouthful of pure true energy could only be held, afraid to convert it.

Li Li asked with a smile, “What’s this? Is that all you’ve got?”

If Chen Ping An wasn’t wearing the Jinli, the entire inn would have been filled with the stench of blood.

Li Li fiercely “nailed” the talisman on his palm into Chen Ping An’s chest. The Jinli only blocked most of it, with a small part still seeping into his chest.

It was akin to having his heart carved out.

Cold sweat on his forehead, mixed with the blood on his face, dripped down the young man’s cheeks, falling onto the ground.

The killing intent in Li Li’s heart intensified.

Li Li was waiting for Chen Ping An’s true energy to be exhausted. If it was a matter of physical pain, the young man could rely on his willpower to suppress it. But as soon as his true energy dissipated, Li Li’s chance would come. He could afford to wait, but Chen Ping An couldn’t. So Li Li did not press his advantage and continue his close-quarters combat with Chen Ping An. Moreover, controlling the Yin Spirit and Yang Spirit to leave the Qi Mansion together was not easy. If not for half a Golden Pill, which allowed Li Li’s spiritual qi foundation to far exceed that of cultivators of the same realm, his Nascent Soul, let alone maintaining the martial saint’s posture with three heads and six arms and hindering the two flying swords, Beginning One and Fifteen, might have already disappeared on its own and returned to Li Li’s true body.

Li Li glanced out of the corner of his eye at the old man squatting on the second-floor railing.

He was somewhat puzzled as to why this person had remained on the sidelines from beginning to end.
As Li Li’s gaze swept towards the martial madman, Zhu Lian, Chen Ping’an seized what seemed like a fleeting opportunity, forcefully attempting to regulate his breathing.

Li Li sneered inwardly, “A desperate struggle. This time, you’ve bet wrong.”

A fleeting shadow of an Yin spirit materialized before Chen Ping’an, its six arms wielding five weapons, descending upon him in a chaotic barrage.

Li Li personally dealt with the two flying swords, countless strands of snow-white spiritual energy flowing from his crimson python-embroidered robes, forming a vast web that completely blocked the flight paths of the swords “First” and “Fifteenth” as they attempted to rescue their master. Although these silken strands couldn’t truly restrain the swords, they could slightly hinder their speed, allowing Li Li to appear near the swords and flick them away with a finger or a wave of his sleeve.

Li Li found the situation somewhat amusing.

This young man was courting death. He hadn’t been regulating his breathing at all; it was merely a ruse to lure Li Li closer. But to what end? His rash defense of the Yao clan tonight was foolish, and so was this petty trick. Perhaps the young man’s high birth and skilled entourage had led him to believe he was invincible.

However, an enemy with such a formidable background needed to be eliminated entirely. Letting him escape would surely bring immense trouble to the entire Daquan Dynasty.

Compared to the earlier close-quarters combat between Chen Ping’an and Li Li, the current exchange of blows with the Yin spirit was even more terrifying.

Fortunately, Chen Ping’an was no stranger to such situations. Back on the Ox Ridge Mountain, he had faced Ding Ying’s golden Dharma body, and the atmosphere was similarly cataclysmic.

However, back then, Chen Ping’an could only endure, without any means of retaliation. Ox Ridge Mountain was battered and shattered by Ding Ying’s golden body.

Now, Chen Ping’an was exchanging blows with this “small” Yin spirit, both sides refusing to yield an inch.

The golden brilliance of the Dharma robe, previously concealed by a snow-white illusion, was now revealed.

After Chen Ping’an unleashed ten “Divine Man Drum Beats,” Li Li’s eyes darkened slightly, but he continued to ignore the attacks, allowing the young man to accumulate blows.

The Yin spirit, with its three heads, six arms, and the visage of a martial temple sage, dissipated into smoke, spiritual energy flowing in all directions.

The golden Dharma robe was also riddled with tears and gashes, temporarily beyond repair, and chaotic spiritual energy scattered.

Li Li tore off the tattered crimson python robes, looking at the young man whose chest heaved violently. The palms of his hands were a bloody mess, but he struggled to keep his eyes open, his blood-smeared face seemingly reduced to those clear eyes.

Li Li smiled, “It’s a pity you’re a pure martial artist. That means you have nothing to do with Willow Leaf Continent or Jade Decree Sect, otherwise I wouldn’t dare to kill you.”

Chen Ping’an closed one eye and rasped, “Your two avatars are too weak. They shattered after only seventeen or eighteen punches, not even close to Ding Ying.”

Li Li smiled slightly, “And then?”

Chen Ping’an mumbled, “Then, if I land a third punch, I can trade my life for yours. Are you afraid?”

Li Li responded with a cold laugh, clearly disbelieving.

Furthermore, as the Daquan’s Gatekeeper Locust, with his golden core half-formed, how could he not have a backup plan? It was simply too costly.

The cost was greater than his own life.

A moment of silence passed. Suddenly, Li Li frowned and said sternly, “Why would a pure martial artist go against the grain and secretly absorb spiritual energy?!”

Li Li retreated several steps, believing that the young man was deliberately opening the gates of his Qi reservoirs, allowing spiritual energy to flood in, seeking a chance for mutual destruction.

He was truly mad.

The scholar Zhong nodded slightly, then shook his head.

It was bold for a pure martial artist to temper his soul with spiritual energy, but it was also dangerous.

There was a chance for that third punch to land.

If Li Li was careless, he would suffer another major loss.

The young man’s fight was not in vain. A fifth-realm martial artist was desperately seeking a hero’s courage, and this Daquan Gatekeeper Locust’s strange Yin spirit, formed by observing three martial temple sages, was just the right catalyst. However, such observation was a heretical path, bordering on blasphemy, and would damage martial fortune. Li Li was abusing his power for personal gain, and the Daquan court was likely unaware of the truth. The young man’s victory over the Yin spirit would be sensed by the three martial saints of the Liu Dynasty, and if he had the opportunity to visit the Daquan capital and enter the martial temple, he would surely receive a great reward.

But all of this depended on whether the young man and his strange entourage could leave this inn alive.

He had agreed to clean up the mess, but that did not mean he would protect the young man.

The eunuch Li Li looked around, walked a dozen steps, went to a wine table, picked up a wine glass, took a sip, gently put down the glass, and looked at the young escorts at the staircase entrance. Among them was a young marquis, a descendant of a Dragon Chariot General, and the rest were promising elites of the Imperial Guards.

Xu Qingzhou, that useless fellow, had not only failed to capture the swordsman but had also unknowingly become a sparring partner.

Xu Tong of the Grass Hut Monastery was still indulging in the so-called power of his unorthodox thunder magic, thinking he had victory in his grasp, but he didn’t know that the woman who wasn’t a swordsman was developing sword intent in her heart, like vigorous spring grass. Her talent was so good that she was practically a sword immortal in the making.

As for the fight outside the door, it was lively enough, with both sides exchanging blows, but it was just noise.

Finally, Li Li looked at the woman and the old hunchback, showing no interest. However, he was unsure about the down-and-out scholar.

Inside the inn, everyone, friend or foe, would die.

Li Li waved his hand, and the inn door slammed shut.

Zhu Lian said slowly, “Be careful.”

Li Li placed his hand on his abdomen, outside his dantian, and began to breathe deeply.

With each exhalation, a scarlet aura spewed out.

Chen Ping’an silently charged forward.

The third “Divine Man Drum Beat” strike.

A punch landed on the back of the eunuch’s hand, which was pressed against his abdomen.

Li Li punched Chen Ping’an in the chest.

A simple second punch arrived.

Li Li was increasingly agitated, as if he was no longer the celestial guardian of the imperial stables who watched over the capital. His face became ferocious, his eyes bloodshot, and he slapped Chen Ping’an’s temple.

Chen Ping’an’s upper body swayed, but his feet remained rooted, determined to deliver the next punch.

Each punch was faster than the last.

Li Li’s punches were even more thunderous.

The flying swords “First” and “Fifteenth,” after piercing his body, seemed to be trapped in a maze, crashing between his Qi reservoirs, unable to find their way out.

A series of bone-cracking sounds came from within Chen Ping’an’s body.
Lines, both bulging and sunken, like seams on a poorly crafted mask, appeared on Li Li’s, the eunuch’s, face, once deceptively youthful for his age.

His half-formed nascent soul, with a loud crack, shattered.

Only the outer layer splintered, much like Li Li had casually discarded his ornate crimson robe.

Zhu Lian sighed inwardly. The railing beneath his feet crumbled, followed by the floorboards. He plummeted to the ground floor with lightning speed, traversing the distance to Li Li in a mere two or three strides. With a flick of his toe, he launched himself upwards, delivering a precise elbow strike to the old eunuch’s head. Simultaneously, his other hand flashed out, slicing like a blade through Li Li’s neck.

Li Li, who should have been dead without question, still managed to throw a punch at Chen Pingan, causing blood to gush from the young man’s ears.

Zhu Lian, however, was sent flying backwards, crashing through a distant wall and landing outside.

Li Li, with half his neck severed, remained indifferent. His sole desire was to eliminate the young man before him. In his true form, the others posed no threat.

Zhu Lian landed amongst a squadron of mounted soldiers. His sudden appearance startled them, but before they could react, Zhu Lian spat out a mouthful of blood. He then rolled backwards, regaining his footing with the agility of an ape in the forest. The madman’s ferocity was now unleashed. He seized the arms of a dismounted soldier, tearing them clean off.

A palm strike pulverized another soldier’s skull.

A punch pierced through another’s chest. Deeming the corpse a nuisance, he sliced downwards with a hand-knife, cleaving the man from shoulder to abdomen, scattering blood and entrails across the ground.

Inside the inn.

Simultaneously, Xu Tong and Xu Qingzhou, Sui Youbian and Lu Baixiang, ceased their conflict.

The transformation of the eunuch Li Li was simply too bizarre.

On an instinctual level, each of them identified Li Li as the greatest threat.

At that moment, Ninth Sister, the hunchback, the cripple, and Yao Lingzhi on the second floor, inexplicably collapsed.

The down-on-his-luck scholar, surnamed Zhong, appeared behind Li Li, one hand clasped behind his back, the other holding a crimson pill between two fingers. He studied it intently, muttering, “No wonder.”

The scholar increased the pressure, crushing the genuine golden core.

Hearing the sound of Chen Pingan’s fist impacting the already dead eunuch’s chest, and knowing Chen Pingan’s own hand was shattered in the process, the scholar turned his head. He grinned at Chen Pingan, filled with admiration, “Young brother, doesn’t it hurt?”

Chen Pingan was completely immersed in his martial intent.

His final punch, in truth, was without any real destructive power. It was light and airy, a far cry from the “Divine Man Drums the Heavens” style, the signature technique of the pinnacle martial artist Old Cui, a style meant to challenge even the Dao Ancestor.

Chen Pingan swayed precariously, his vision blurred. He vaguely saw the neck-mangled eunuch slump to his knees. Chen Pingan sensed the cessation of the man’s life force.

Chen Pingan remained standing, his fist still extended. His mind was consumed by a single thought: *Thank heavens Old Guangjiao didn’t see that last punch, or he would have scolded me for it until I bled!*

The scholar looked at Xu Tong and Xu Qingzhou, blinking, and asked, “Did you really believe that nonsense about gentlemen using words, not fists?”

Xu Tong and Xu Qingzhou swallowed hard.

Chen Pingan’s arms drooped, and he collapsed to the ground, sitting cross-legged.

He mustered his remaining strength, clenched his fists, and rested them gently on his knees, able to open only one eye.

His golden-thread Daoist robe was severely damaged, its spiritual energy all but depleted, rendering it useless for now.

He was covered in more blood than Li Li had worn on his crimson robe.

The scholar addressed the young man, “Do you even know what you were fighting?”

However, due to the presence of others in the inn, the scholar refrained from speaking aloud. He had sensed a subtle shift in the young man’s energy before his own intervention, perhaps a deeply hidden self-preservation technique, or a final, desperate attack. The scholar could only guess at its true nature.

Chen Pingan slowly raised his head, still only able to open one eye, and smiled faintly, “No one stands before me.”

The scholar crouched down, smiling, and asked, “What’s your name?”

Chen Pingan closed his eyes.

The scholar rolled his eyes.

After a moment’s hesitation, he extended a finger, tracing circles in the air like a child’s drawing.

The spiritual energy released by the collapse of Li Li’s body and golden core flowed towards the young martial artist, converging precisely at the points along the channels where Chen Pingan’s Sword Qi had traversed.

In addition, he waved his hand, and Li Li’s corpse vanished. First and Fifteenth then sprang forth, hovering swiftly on either side of Chen Pingan’s shoulders, their sword tips aimed at the scholar.

The scholar ignored them. He looked up at the second floor and called out, “Little girl, stop reading and come look at your father.”

Pei Qian, having long lost the energy to read, rushed out of her room. She first glanced at the disheveled scholar, then feigned ignorance, asking, “Huh? Look at *your* father?”

The scholar chuckled, “Oh, so you’re good at picking on the weak, are you?”

Pei Qian dashed downstairs, her footsteps thudding on the steps.

Squatting next to the scholar, Pei Qian looked at Chen Pingan and quietly asked, “Is he…dead?”

The scholar nodded. “Died young, a true tragedy.”

Pei Qian looked around, hesitant to speak.

Chen Pingan opened his eyes.

Pei Qian turned and glared at the scholar. “Why are you cursing my father to die? Your father’s the one who’s dead!”

The scholar feigned innocence. “My father died a long time ago. We visit his grave every Qingming Festival.”

Chen Pingan removed the wine gourd from his waist, taking a small sip of plum wine. As he raised his hand, Pei Qian saw the horrific state of it, and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. Like the scholar, she wondered: *How can anyone be so impervious to pain?*

The scholar asked with a smile, “Nearly died here for the sake of the Yao family. No regrets?”

Chen Pingan said, “It wasn’t for the Yao family.”

The scholar grinned wickedly. “The Yao family suffered this catastrophe in part because of a ‘femme fatale’. You’ll soon understand. Even a man with a heart of stone like me almost succumbed to temptation. That woman is beautiful beyond compare.”
Lu Baixiang, hands gripping his blade, and Sui Youbian, sword resting behind his back, stood beside Chen Pingan.

One worth two Gu Yu coins, the other, astonishingly, only a single coin.

The four of them, together, just managed to exhaust all of Chen Pingan’s accumulated Gu Yu coins.

That old Daoist was truly a swindler.

The scholar suddenly asked, a hint of doubt in his tone, “Could it be that you knew of my presence all along, and were using this life-or-death struggle as a means to hone your martial path?”

Chen Pingan wiped the bloodstains from his face, offering no answer to the question. Instead, he smiled and inquired, “And you are?”

The scholar waved his hand dismissively. “Insignificant.”

Chen Pingan refrained from further inquiry.

The scholar turned his gaze towards Pei Qian, her eyes wide with shock. He stared at those eyes, like the sun rising in the eastern sea, and the moon hanging over the western mountains – truly beautiful.

It was just that her temperament was rather unlikable.

The scholar glanced towards the main entrance. “Yao Zhen and the forces of the other Imperial Prince are arriving soon.”

He offered a final smile. “Just focus on healing your wounds. Leave the rest to me.”

Chen Pingan struggled to rise. He first cupped his fist towards the scholar in a respectful greeting. The sight of those hands sent another wave of shivers down the scholar’s spine. Chen Pingan finally spoke to Lu Baixiang, “Thank you. If I had known, you should have come out first.”

Lu Baixiang offered a nonchalant smile.

Chen Pingan glanced at Sui Youbian. The latter met his gaze with an unyielding expression.

Chen Pingan walked towards the second floor, Pei Qian trailing behind him.

The young guards, one by one, were pale as corpses.

The scholar watched the retreating figures of the adult and child, scratching his head, unable to make heads or tails of the situation. He decided it was better not to strain his mind.

The thought that he wouldn’t be able to freeload here after tonight filled him with annoyance.

And so, the scholar sat down and began to drink in silence. The scholar, with a jade pendant hanging from his waist, strode out. The inn’s main door seemed to vanish before him. With a single slap, he sent the Prince tumbling through the air, spinning several times. A sword-wielding scholar then transformed into a streak of white light, soaring away to find the other Daquan Imperial Prince, kicking him to the ground and stomping relentlessly on his face.

As the scholar’s Yin and Yang souls soared forth, drifting through the spiritual realm, all within a thousand miles, including malevolent spirits and even the lewd deities enshrined in illicit shrines, involuntarily prostrated themselves, trembling with fear.

All ghosts in this world, upon seeing Zhong Kui, must kowtow.