Qian Ye’s Bingfa Jue had surged through twenty-five rounds, and his every move now subtly echoed with the sound of the tide, with the occasional rumbling of wind and thunder. A faint rosy glow from his original force shone brighter on his fist, meeting with the misty blue light emanating from Song Zining’s palms. Suddenly, both of their upper bodies shook, as although their strikes hadn’t connected, their released original forces collided in a substantial manner!
A glimmer of surprise flashed in Song Zining’s eyes, soon turning into a smile. Qian Ye, however, did not find this clash of original forces particularly special. He noticed that Song Zining’s original force was completely different from what it used to be: it was as flexible as water, seemingly weak but strong, fluctuating unpredictably. In contrast, Qian Ye’s own original force still held the characteristics of Bingfa Jue, fierce and bold, sharp and unyielding!
The many dignitaries on the spectator stand, with their keen eyes, had already noticed this tiny detail.
Hua Yang Bo, sitting at the second seat to the left of the Duke Wei, was surprised, saying, “Am I seeing this right? It’s already a genius to release original force under the seventh rank, and yet these two can condense their force into a tangible form without using any secret combat techniques?”
Chang Ping Bo, who was beside him, replied, “One of them is the seventh son of the Song clan, so that’s understandable. But the other one is a commoner…” Before he could finish, the situation in the arena changed dramatically.
Qian Ye and Song Zining finally collided, fists meeting palms, and landed their first solid strike since the start of the battle! With a resounding boom, the rosy and blue original forces burst into a blinding white light, and both were sent flying backward.
As Qian Ye steadied himself, he saw Song Zining smiling at him. Then, Song Zining raised both hands. Qian Ye, puzzled, only realized that Song Zining was conceding when the patrolling guards from the Duke’s manor descended into the fighting arena.
Instantly, the entire arena erupted in an uproar!
Qian Ye, stunned, asked, “What’s going on?”
Song Zining pressed his chest and frowned slightly, saying, “I sustained internal injuries from the last battle with that brute. After being hit by your strong original force, my injuries seem to have worsened, and I am truly unable to continue.”
Qian Ye was momentarily speechless. This was the second time he faced an opponent conceding due to severe injuries from a previous fight, and he couldn’t help but wonder about his luck! However, the last person had been unable to even stand properly when leaving the arena, while Song Zining didn’t look severely injured at all.
At this moment, even Duke Wei sent a messenger to inquire. Song Zining repeated his previous statement, and thus, Qian Ye won this round in a most bewildering manner.
The high-ranking spectators, upon hearing the messenger’s report, were utterly speechless. In the seventh round, the most watched battle was between Song Zining and Wei Potian, and everyone had clearly seen that they had not once engaged in a direct confrontation.
The Far East Wei clan’s secret combat techniques, “Thousand Mountains” and “Tongming Sky Shattering Fist,” were known for their immense power and high consumption. Therefore, Song Zining had effectively worn down Wei Potian, and at the time, everyone praised his tactical choice. Could it be that “Thousand Mountains” had an unknown counter-damage attribute?
Sitting next to Duke Wei on his right was an unfamiliar old man, who had come to watch the battle for the first time today. Judging by his seating, he held a highly esteemed position. He spoke bluntly, frowning, “How can the seventh son of the Song clan show such a lack of ambition? What internal injury? I think he just doesn’t want to face the second son of the Zhao clan!”
Duke Wei stroked his beard, pondering, “I heard that Song Zining entered the line of succession for the Song clan because he mastered the ancient secret technique, ‘Three Thousand Floating Leaves’? “
Yi Guang Hou nodded, still looking displeased, “No one in the Song clan has mastered this technique in centuries. In the history of the empire, ‘Three Thousand Floating Leaves’ was once as renowned as ‘Great Derivation Heaven Secret Technique,’ but who would have thought that the successor of this technique in the Song clan would be of such character.”
Duke Wei just smiled. Yi Guang Hou, despite his advanced age, was even more short-tempered than when he was young. No wonder he traveled far to attend this small Tianxuan Spring Hunt, seemingly coming specifically for Song Zining?
Hua Yang Bo, listening to their conversation, interjected, “There’s very little information about Song Zining, as he rarely moves around outside.”
Yi Guang Hou confirmed, “He lived in ‘Wendao Manor’ until he came of age. That’s where the Old Lord of the Song clan spends her twilight years. News from there never reaches the outside, and even within the Song clan, not everyone is qualified to visit and pay respects to the Old Lady.”
The Old Lord of the Song clan, Song Zining’s great-grandmother, was the Duchess of An. She was the only duchess in the Great Qin whose title was different from her husband’s, meaning her title came from her own strength.
As they spoke, another match ended, with Zhao Junhong defeating Yin Qiqi. The second son of the Zhao clan was indeed a standout among the younger generation, proven by his ability to advance to the finals with ease. Moreover, he won each match decisively, without any close battles.
In comparison, Qian Ye’s record was much criticized. In the sixth round and the semi-finals, he almost won without fighting, practically getting a free ride. The second-place prize, though not a custom firearm, was worth thousands of gold coins in total.
Today’s tournament concluded here, with the final battle set for the following day.
Betting always surrounded any event, and the Tianxuan Spring Hunt, with its thousands of attendants and servants, was no exception. However, as soon as the semi-final results were announced, the previously bustling betting market for the final became eerily quiet. There was simply no suspense.
It wasn’t until late in the evening that the gamblers regained some interest. A new bet emerged with over a thousand gold coins wagered on Qian Ye’s victory. Many people started placing bets, even though the odds were a staggering 1:30, requiring a substantial investment to win back a small amount. Still, many found this a safe and lucrative opportunity.
With the betting scene livened up, even if all bets favored Zhao Junhong, the atmosphere was maintained. As night fell, numerous side bets appeared. Some bet on how long it would take for Zhao Junhong to win, ranging from one minute to thirty minutes, with different odds for odd and even numbers. Others bet on how he would win, such as by punching, kicking, or using secret techniques, each with varying odds.
Some even bet on headbutting, which naturally had extremely high odds, as everyone knew the Zhao clan valued grace and poise, and such an undignified move would never be used. Although these were small wagers, the atmosphere was lively and entertaining. The newcomer bookmaker deserved praise for their skills.
Qian Ye paid no attention to the outside commotion. He spent the afternoon in the cultivation chamber, pushing Bingfa Jue to thirty-five rounds, carefully observing the effects on his body. Though he could achieve thirty-five rounds in practice, he couldn’t replicate this power in battle. Bingfa Jue was too intense, damaging his internal organs even when running through his bloodline, and releasing it externally would cause even greater harm.
Qian Ye sought to find his limit. Otherwise, even if Zhao Junhong truly limited his original force to the fifth rank, he might not win with just thirty rounds of the King’s Strike. A fifth-rank secret technique and a standard fifth-rank were entirely different, akin to the difference between an inland airship and an interstellar one.
Suddenly, Qian Ye’s body trembled slightly. The golden blood qi swirling around his heart leaped out like a heron, touching the tidal wave of dawn force and taking a strand with it. Surprised, Qian Ye sensed that the strand of dawn force taken was exceptionally refined, obviously the essence forged through the repeated surges of thirty-five rounds of original force.
Ordinarily, only common blood qi grew by consuming dawn force, while golden blood qi only consumed common blood qi. Qian Ye had once thought this was the rule for blood power advancement, but now he realized it wasn’t so. Recalling that the golden blood qi had also consumed the cold aura of Steward Wen, Qian Ye wondered if it was picky, only consuming special forces and disregarding ordinary ones.
This thought made Qian Ye laugh. He had completed his training for the day and slowly withdrew the tidal wave of original force.
When Qian Ye returned to his room, a servant from the Yin family delivered a gift box and a uniquely styled letter. Opening it, he found a lively spring night scene sketched on fine paper, followed by an invitation to a banquet and a simple map indicating the location.
Though the handwriting was unfamiliar, the structure and style felt familiar. Flipping the cover, Qian Ye saw Song Zining’s signature. In recent days, Song Zining had sent similar invitations, but Qian Ye had never received them as Qi Qi had them thrown away. How had this one slipped through?
Qian Ye examined the map and noted that the location was likely beyond the hunting camp, near a path leading to the rear mountains. After some thought, he put away the paper and, after informing the guard, left the Yin family villa.
In the garden, atop the ancient tree, Qi Qi stood alone, watching Qian Ye leave. His figure disappeared behind a wall and some foliage, reappearing on a road lined with gardenia flowers, then turning westward towards the outskirts.
Qi Qi’s phoenix-like eyes were dark and calm. She had heard the rumors, speculating that the seventh son of the Song clan had unusual tastes, or that he was trying to create discord with Miss Qi Qi. But Qian Ye had never said a word, not even asking about it.
Qi Qi didn’t know what Song Zining was up to, but she understood Qian Ye’s attitude. She had once reacted similarly to such situations, completely indifferent.
The spring mountain breeze grew softer, and even in the evening, the fragrance of the sun-heated flowers lingered, carrying warmth. Qi Qi walked into the tree canopy, sat in Qian Ye’s usual spot, and slowly curled herself into a small ball.
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