Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

"He has an excellent Root Bone, but he’s been stuck for this long?" Chen Cheng asked, surprised.

Wang Hengyu frowned slightly.

"Cheng, you’re a martial artist yourself. Don’t you know how difficult it is to derive Dark Force from Bright Force?"

"A single True Strength Crossing Thought Map has stumped countless Bright Force masters! So many spend their entire lives unable to cross that hurdle!"

"..."

Chen Cheng opened his mouth but said nothing.

’He really didn’t know how hard it was.’

’Over the past half-month, his own training had progressed steadily. He’d grasped the True Strength Crossing Thought Map the moment he’d tried...’

’A hurdle that even those with excellent Root Bones struggled with had never even been an issue for him.’

He glanced at Wang Hengyu’s face, which screamed ’You really don’t know?’, and could only lower his head in silence and go back to eating.

’It was true,’ he thought. ’One person’s sorrow is not another’s.’

After that, Wang Chuang went on to defeat three more young men, all in swift victories of two or three moves.

The cheers from the crowd grew louder with each victory, and the smile on Wang Peng’s face became harder and harder to contain. He endlessly clinked his wine cup with the honored guests at the main table.

The light in Gu Lan’an’s eyes dimmed, her fighting spirit utterly gone. She silently shook her head at the young man beside her. He said nothing, obviously knowing he was no match for Wang Chuang either.

Wu Ziyu’s eyes remained fixed on Wang Chuang. ’How can I win him over later?’ she was already calculating.

"Huaiqing."

Song Che narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low voice.

"That Wang Chuang’s Root Bone is indeed outstanding. Not only does he possess innate brute strength, but that frame of his seems born to cultivate the Nine An Mountain-Shattering Palm... Weigh your own chances. Don’t be reckless."

Yan Huaiqing glanced at Wang Chuang, then at the quiet Song Yingzhi, and smiled calmly.

"Uncle Song, rest assured. My Root Bone is also a perfect match for the Lingfeng Leg Technique I cultivate. I’ll just wait for Wang Chuang to fight a few more matches, and then I will go down to challenge him."

Song Che nodded, the satisfaction and admiration in his eyes hard to conceal.

Song Yingzhi, however, remained silent. Her gaze would occasionally pass over Yan Huaiqing, filled with unconcealed coldness and distance.

Wang Chuang then fought another three consecutive matches.

Although he won them all, his opponents grew progressively stronger. The last one even exchanged over a hundred moves with him before finally being defeated.

The crowd’s cheers were as loud as ever.

But any discerning eye could see that Wang Chuang’s breathing had grown heavy and his movements were much slower than when he started. There were even brief, stuttering moments in his actions, a sign that the circulation of his Blood Qi could no longer keep up.

"I am Yan Huaiqing of Songhe Hall, twenty-one years old! Half a year ago, I condensed my fourth pillar of Blood Qi. I ask for your guidance!"

Yan Huaiqing saw that Wang Chuang seemed about to leave the stage to rest. He immediately shot up, his voice and steps fast and urgent. Before Wang Chuang could respond, he was already in the middle of the arena, having assumed a fighting stance.

"Damn it! What a shameless bastard!"

Wang Hengyu couldn’t help but curse aloud.

Chen Cheng remained silent, his gaze fixed on the battlefield.

After a brief cupped-fist salute, Yan Huaiqing’s feet shifted, and his form shot forward to close the distance.

The Lingfeng Leg Technique he cultivated secretly contained both a Step Technique and a Body Technique. Each step he took was like treading on a soft breeze, his footwork and the turning of his waist blending into a single, seamless motion. From a distance, he resembled a white crane skimming across the water, riding the wind.

Wang Chuang sank his stance to meet the attack, his palms a blur. The Nine An Mountain-Shattering Palm was steady and fierce, each thrust whistling as it cut through the air.

Unfortunately, this Palm Technique was long on power but short on finesse. Combined with the exhaustion from seven consecutive battles, he could still plant his feet, but his movements were half a beat too slow.

Yan Huaiqing saw this clearly and refused to clash with Wang Chuang head-on.

Whenever Wang Chuang struck out with his palm, Yan Huaiqing would float away to evade. The moment Wang Chuang pulled his palm back to defend, he would close in from the flank with a flurry of leg attacks, forcing Wang Chuang to respond hastily.

The key was that even when he had an opening, he wouldn’t land a solid kick. Instead, he would make light contact and then pull back, as if showing off his skills.

After more than a dozen exchanges, Wang Chuang’s exhaustion was on full display, and his situation grew more and more desperate.

The crowd gradually fell silent.

Anyone could see that Yan Huaiqing had the complete advantage and was simply toying with Wang Chuang to make himself look good by comparison.

But it was an advantage that was, to one degree or another, contemptible.

Even Wu Ziyu, who was eager to recruit young talent, showed no interest in him whatsoever.

Any discerning eye could see that if Wang Chuang hadn’t fought the six previous matches, Yan Huaiqing might not have gained an advantage, let alone be able to act so composed and handle the situation with such ease.

"Huaiqing!"

Even Song Che could no longer watch, his voice a stern reminder.

Hearing the call, Yan Huaiqing reluctantly focused his mind. He pinpointed the exact moment Wang Chuang’s Blood Qi faltered and his body grew sluggish, then shot out a sweeping kick.

THWACK—

The top of Yan Huaiqing’s foot instantly struck Wang Chuang’s calf. The latter let out a muffled grunt and dropped to one knee. Before he could even try to stand, the tip of Yan Huaiqing’s foot was already poised two inches from his throat.

"You have let me win."

Yan Huaiqing withdrew his leg, took a step back, and with a light laugh, offered a cupped-fist salute to the crowd. His gaze finally landed on Song Yingzhi, filled with a hint of smug satisfaction.

Song Yingzhi, however, turned her head away.

"Chuang!"

Wang Hengyu and Chen Cheng ran over and helped Wang Chuang to his feet. He was gasping for air, his expression crestfallen, but he still forced a smile.

"I’m fine. Come on, let’s go eat and drink!"

"Manor Master Wang!"

Song Che stood up and announced in a loud voice.

"Young Huaiqing’s victory was dishonorable. This battle... should not count!"

"Lord Song, there is no need for such words."

Though disappointment flickered in Wang Peng’s eyes, his bearing was still forthright and bold.

"A loss is a loss, and a win is a win! If no one else issues a challenge, then today’s grand prize goes to this young man, Little Brother Yan Huaiqing!"

"Many thanks, Manor Master Wang!"

Yan Huaiqing’s chin lifted and his voice rose. His gaze swept slowly over the young faces in the crowd, as if to say, ’Is there anyone else?’

"Yingzhi..."

Song Che sat back down and glanced at his daughter from the corner of his eye. His voice was hushed, but it couldn’t conceal his smug satisfaction.

"So? Your father has a good eye, doesn’t he? You should get along well with Huaiqing. If you two can be happily married, he will surely become a great pillar of our Song Family. His future accomplishments will be no less than my own!"

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