Chen Zui untied the wine jug and tossed it casually to Xiao Chengyan behind him.
Xiao Chengyan caught the jug in a fluster, his eyes already rimmed with red.
“Brother Chen…”
“Don’t worry, I won’t die.”
Chen Zui flexed his wrists and slammed the red-tasseled spear into the ground, the butt of the spear sinking three chi deep into the earth.
He sank into a horse stance and gripped the spear shaft with both hands, his entire center of gravity dropping as he became like a nail driven into the snow.
“Ready?” He Bailou asked.
Chen Zui nodded.
In the next second, He Bailou moved.
No one saw how he moved.
One moment he was standing loosely in place; the next, he had appeared in front of Chen Zui.
His right fist had already been thrust out in a straight line.
When that punch was thrown, there were no flourishes.
There was no fist aura, no internal energy, no sound of wind or thunder.
There wasn't even the sound of air being broken.
All there was was a kind of pure power, one that approached the Dao.
Wherever the fist force passed, the air was compressed into a visible hemispherical arc. That arc advanced silently, evaporating the snow and cracking the frozen earth in its path.
At the same time, deep within Chen Zui’s consciousness, a string of text quietly emerged.
【Lethal attack detected. Activate Trait “Unmoving Like a Mountain”?】
“Activate,” Chen Zui murmured in his heart.
【“Unmoving Like a Mountain” is now active. The spear serves as a shield, steady as Mount Tai; it can block a full-strength strike from one realm above.】
A faint golden light shield spread out from the spear in Chen Zui’s hands, enveloping his entire body.
The light shield was extremely thin, like a layer of a cocoon, looking as if it would shatter at a touch.
Meanwhile, atop the walls of Luoyan City, Liu Yinsheng had at some point withdrawn his gaze from the cold moon.
He looked at that thin golden shield, and the ancient sword within its scabbard let out a low hum as if in response to something.
His eyebrows twitched slightly, and the corner of his mouth moved imperceptibly.
He Bailou, of course, felt it too.
The moment his fist made contact with the shield, he felt that steady, heavy resistance that was almost like the earth itself.
That wasn't Chen Zui’s own power, but a kind of... rule.
It was like a mountain; you couldn't push it, not because you weren't strong enough, but because a mountain was a mountain.
But he was He Bailou.
A Fist Grandmaster.
Though he had only used thirty percent of his strength in this punch, it wasn't something a mere rule could block.
“Break,” he uttered softly.
His fist force suddenly surged in layers!
One layer, two layers, three layers.
With the three layers of force stacked together, the golden light shield finally shattered.
The shield transformed into a sky full of golden light motes, dissipating into the night wind.
The residual force of the punch passed through the shield and slammed squarely into Chen Zui’s chest.
“Pfft—”
Chen Zui violently spat out a mouthful of blood and was sent flying backward, crashing heavily against the base of the city wall!
Snow rustled down from the wall, burying half his body within it.
“Chen Zui!”
Ye Zhibai and Xiao Chengyan rushed forward at the same time.
Xiao Chengyan frantically dug through the snow while Ye Zhibai supported Chen Zui by the shoulder.
Where she touched him, his entire skeletal structure was letting out faint creaking sounds—a sign of being shaken and injured by the fist force.
Ye Zhibai suddenly looked up, her gaze fixed on Chen Zui’s chest.
His chest was rising and falling.
Though weak, it was steady and even.
He wasn't dead.
He had truly taken a punch from He Bailou!
“Cough, cough…”
Chen Zui coughed up a glob of stagnant blood and struggled to stand up, leaning on the spear shaft for support.
He Bailou stood in place, the expression on his face shifting from shock to disbelief before finally settling into a complex silence.
He looked down at his own fist, then looked up at the young man who was leaning on his spear, covered in blood yet still standing straight. Suddenly, he burst into loud laughter.
“Good! Good! Good!”
He said “good” three times, each one louder than the last.
“Although I only used thirty percent of my strength in that punch, even a Second Rank expert might not have been able to take it. You are the first… to take a punch from me while in the Inquiry Realm.”
He paused for a moment, then grinned.
“However, that punch just now was merely a probe; you did indeed take it.”
He held up a second finger.
“For this second punch, I will use fifty percent of my strength. Let’s see if you can still endure it.”
Before his voice had even faded, an invisible pressure suddenly radiated from his body.
This was a true Grandmaster’s pressure.
It wasn't killing intent or internal energy, but a Presence pure to the extreme.
It was as if a massive mountain had descended from the heavens, pressing down on everyone’s shoulders.
Ye Zhibai felt the longsword in her hand become heavy as lead, and her sword-hand began to tremble uncontrollably.
Xiao Chengyan fared even worse; having only the cultivation of the Knocking Realm, his legs went weak and he slumped directly onto the ground, unable to even stand.
Even Xie Jiuzhen turned pale and retreated repeatedly while holding Meng Huaiguang.
However.
Chen Zui smiled.
“Bring it on.”
“Good lad!”
This time, He Bailou wasn't as casual as he had been with the first punch.
His feet spread slightly, he sank his waist and hips, and his right fist was drawn back to his waist.
This starting stance was so simple it couldn't be simpler; even a three-year-old could mimic it.
Yet it was this simple stance that made everyone present feel an indescribable sense of oppression.
Atop the city wall, the white-robed Liu Yinsheng fixed his gaze on He Bailou’s fist, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Is Old He… actually getting serious?
No.
This old thing has developed a fondness for talent.”
He closed his eyes, no longer paying attention.
Beneath the city gate, He Bailou’s fist finally struck out.
This punch was entirely different from the first.
The first punch had been silent, without even the sound of wind.
But when this punch was thrown, the entire Luoyan City seemed to tremble.
Before the fist aura could arrive, the fist intent preceded it.
A momentum as vast as a tsunami erupted from He Bailou, lifting all the snow from the ground and turning it into a sprawling white mist.
Chen Zui felt an irresistible force rushing toward him, more than ten times stronger than the first punch!
He gritted his teeth and poured his entire cultivation into the spear shaft.
【Lethal attack detected. Activate Trait “Unmoving Like a Mountain”?】
“Activate,” Chen Zui roared in his heart.
【“Unmoving Like a Mountain” is now active.】
The golden light shield lit up once more, shining even more brilliantly than the first time.
However, Chen Zui knew in his heart.
Relying on “Unmoving Like a Mountain” alone would not be enough to block this punch.
Sure enough, the moment the fist aura collided with the shield, the golden light shield let out a mournful wail of overstrain.
Cracks rapidly spread from the point of contact, covering the entire shield like a spiderweb.
Chen Zui felt an overwhelming force surge through the spear shaft into his arms, his chest, and his entire body.
The webbing between his thumb and forefinger tore, and blood flowed down the spear shaft.
The cracks on the shield became denser and deeper.
It looked as if it would shatter completely at any moment!
At this critical juncture.
Chen Zui suddenly looked up and shouted toward the city gate with all his might.
“Senior!”
He Bailou’s brow furrowed slightly.
He heard those words, but he did not withdraw his fist.
The fist force continued to surge forward like a tide.
However, in that very instant.
A sword intent silently appeared in front of Chen Zui.
It wasn't a sword light, nor was it sword qi; it wasn't even something the naked eye could see.
It was an existence pure to the extreme.
It was like a wisp of clear breeze, yet also like a smear of moonlight, impossible to describe or explain.
That sword intent landed on Chen Zui’s shoulder, as light as a fallen leaf.
Yet it caused He Bailou’s tsunami-like fist force to freeze in place, less than three inches from Chen Zui’s chest.
He Bailou’s expression changed drastically.
His fist force stacked layer upon layer—40%, 50%, 60%.
But for every bit of strength he added, that sword intent grew by the same amount.
Whatever he added, it matched.
Never more, never less.
It was exactly enough to resist his fist, preventing it from advancing even another inch.
“Who is it?!”
He Bailou barked, his gaze sweeping around like lightning.
Atop the wall, Liu Yinsheng’s hand had at some point moved to his sword hilt.
His gaze was fixed on a certain direction behind Chen Zui, and the ancient sword in its scabbard was humming violently and incessantly.
Then, everyone heard a voice.
The voice was aged and raspy.
“Old He, Old He… haven't seen you in over thirty years. How is it that your fists have only gotten worse with practice?”
Everyone followed the sound.
There at the city gate, a person had appeared at some point.
It was a withered old man with a sword on his back.
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