vstars Chapter 42 Even if blood splatters five steps away, you still have to pay for my table.
Chapter 42 Even if blood splatters five steps away, you still have to pay for my table.
The night at Zizhu Peak is wilder than the day.
The torches illuminated the mountain gate as bright as day, and the heatwave caused the edges of the surrounding bamboo forest to curl up.
This place doesn't resemble a sacred place for cultivating immortality at all; it's clearly the most vulgar and bustling underground boxing ring in the mortal world.
The air was filled with the stench of sweat, blood, and the earthy smell unique to inferior spirit stones.
This money tree can't be allowed to fall, so Mo Ju hastily put together a wheelchair for Yu Liang to sit in.
"Next! Don't dawdle, time is money!"
Yu Liang was slumped in his wheelchair, clutching a handful of sunflower seeds.
The door panel in front of him, which read "Honest and Fair to All Ages," had been blasted black, yet it still stood firm, much like his face, which seemed to defy all reason.
The crowd parted, and a disciple with a sinister expression jumped out.
"Zhang San from the Outer Sect's Poisonous Academy."
The man sneered and uncorked the dark green gourd in his hand: "Senior Brother Yu, my 'Bone-Corroding and Heart-Eroding Mist' is not blind. If it melts your bones, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Green smoke billowed.
A nauseating, sweet-smelling odor instantly enveloped the wheelchair.
The onlookers' expressions changed drastically, and they covered their mouths and noses as they frantically retreated.
Just as the poisonous fog was thick, a deep, drawn-out breath was suddenly heard.
"Hiss—ha—"
The sound was like an old smoker taking a deep drag on a bottle of aged tobacco, his lungs trembling.
Immediately afterwards, the poisonous fog thinned at a visible speed, and finally, like noodles, it all slid into Yu Liang's nostrils.
Yu Liang smacked his lips, and the hideous scar on his chest glowed slightly for a moment.
"belch--"
He burped, still savoring the moment.
A wisp of smoke, a mixture of stir-fried chives and garlic, and the yellow smoke from fermented stinky tofu, refined by the "Scumbag's Mindset," was precisely sprayed onto Zhang San's face.
"vomit--!"
Zhang San's eyes rolled back, he foamed at the mouth, and fell straight down, without even convulsing.
"It has very low toxicity, tastes astringent, and has a slightly earthy aftertaste."
Yu Liang waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly: "You dare to show your face with this level of skill? Even Ah Tuo's spittle is more exciting than yours. Take him away, next!"
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd; their initial awe vanished, replaced by an even more fanatical greed.
This isn't just getting beaten up, it's like being given free experience points by a living bodhisattva!
"I'll do it!"
A fragrant breeze wafts through the air.
A scantily clad female cultivator swayed forward, her eyes sparkling, and pink spiritual energy transformed into illusory butterflies that swooped towards Yu Liang.
"This disciple from the outer sect of Hundred Flowers Peak requests guidance from Senior Brother Yu on the 'Thousand Threads Wrapped Around the Finger' technique."
Mental charm.
This attack is invisible and intangible, making it the most difficult to defend against, and it directly targets the soul.
Yu Liang's eyes glazed over instantly, and drool dripped from the corner of his mouth.
The female cultivator was overjoyed and was about to increase her efforts when she saw Yu Liang suddenly sit up straight, his Adam's apple bobbing, and swallow the pink butterflies whole.
"Neither take initiative nor refuse, and takes no responsibility."
Yu Liang's eyes gleamed, and in his high-pitched, hoarse voice strained by spiritual energy, he began to speak:
"Beat the drums fast, beat the gongs slowly; stop the drums and gongs and listen to the song; all sorts of idle talk are sung in song; listen to me sing 'Eighteen Touches'..."
The melody is lewd, the lyrics are vulgar, and coupled with that raspy voice, it's simply mental pollution.
The female cultivator's face instantly turned a deep liver color.
The romantic atmosphere she had created was shattered. Overwhelmed with shame and anger, she covered her face, screamed, and fled into the crowd.
"Don't go, junior sister! We haven't even finished sparring yet... no, we haven't finished our sparring!"
Yu Liang waved his handkerchief, looking regretful.
Not far away.
Su Xiu sat behind the broken table, counting money until her hands cramped.
The piles of spiritual stones shimmered with a captivating luster under the firelight.
"I'm rich..."
Su Xiu muttered to herself, her eyes sparkling, a silly grin clinging to her lips: "At this rate, not only can I pay off the interest, but I can also renovate the pigsty on the back hill and buy two tons of premium feed for Pig Master..."
Pig Lord was currently mingling in the crowd, furtively kicking a poor fellow's dropped jade pendant into the grass with his hoof, then nonchalantly chewing on it with a crunch.
Everything was so wonderful.
It was as beautiful as a soap bubble that burst at the slightest touch.
Until that light appeared.
No sound.
Or rather, the sound couldn't keep up with the speed of the light.
"Click."
The eight-immortal table in front of Su Xiu, which was missing a leg, suddenly split in the middle without warning.
The cut is as smooth as a mirror.
The spirit stones piled on top scattered all over the ground with a clatter, rolling into the mud and dust, becoming covered in filth.
The noisy commotion seemed to be cut off by an invisible hand, and silence fell instantly.
A cold, sharp, and superior aura descended from the sky, forcefully extinguishing the hundreds of torches around them.
Under the moonlight, a young man in white walked slowly towards them.
He walked very slowly, but with each step he took, the bluestone slabs beneath his feet would silently crumble into dust.
He held a plain, undecorated heavy iron sword in his hand, its tip dragging on the ground, carving a deep, bottomless trench, sparks flying everywhere.
Clothing worn by inner disciples.
Hidden Sword Peak, Zhao Yijian.
"A bunch of ants."
Zhao Yijian didn't even glance at the outer disciples around him.
His gaze swept past the crowd and landed directly on Yu Liang, who was slumped in a wheelchair.
That look was as if he were looking at a pile of unrecyclable garbage.
"As a cultivator, you do not pursue the Great Dao, nor do you seek immortality, yet you engage in the lowly business of commerce, trying to please the masses."
Zhao Yijian stopped five steps away.
He slightly raised the sword, pointing it at Yu Liang's brow.
"You have utterly disgraced Purple Bamboo Peak. You have also utterly disgraced the Azure Profound Sect."
"Today, I will cleanse the sect of Master Gu by cutting off your arm as a warning to others."
His tone was flat, as if breaking someone's arm was just like casually snapping off a dead branch by the roadside.
A powerful spiritual pressure surged forth like a landslide or a tsunami.
Those once-fervent outer disciples were now deathly pale, their legs trembling, and they didn't even dare to breathe.
A sword cultivator in the Foundation Establishment stage.
This is real killing technique, not their childish sparring.
Yu Liang kept his head down.
He looked at the spirit stones scattered in the mud, and at the table that had been split in two.
That was a table that Su Xiu picked up from the garbage dump and wiped three times before she could bear to use it.
Yu Liang slowly raised his head.
The playful smile on his face was gone, replaced by a chilling calm.
"Dude."
Yu Liang pointed to the wreckage on the ground.
"You chopped my table."
"That's made of huanghuali wood, an heirloom. We have to pay compensation."
Zhao Yijian frowned slightly, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes: "Stubborn to the end."
Om-!
The heavy iron sword trembled.
There were no fancy moves, just a simple straight thrust.
But this simple sword strike made the hairs on Yu Liang's body stand on end.
fast!
too fast!
And... it's so concise!
If the previous fireballs, poisonous mist, and palm strikes were like scattered sand, then this sword strike is like a steel nail shot at high speed!
There's no escaping it!
"bring it on!"
Yu Liang gritted his teeth, the Heavenly Punishment Mark on his chest throbbed wildly, and all the meridians in his body opened.
The Scumbag's Manual: Devouring Heaven and Earth!
No way! I'll drain you dry!
Yu Liang straightened his chest and took the initiative to meet the sword's edge.
puff.
There was no energy absorption as expected.
That sword energy was too sharp and too dense; it didn't even have time to be broken down and digested by the "Scumbag's Heart Method" before it directly sliced through the meridians that Yu Liang used to guide his energy.
It's like a red-hot knife cutting into butter.
Blood splattered.
Yu Liang's left shoulder was instantly pierced, and the huge impact sent him flying backward, slamming hard into the door.
Boom!
The door panel was smashed.
Yu Liang fell into the splintered wood, and half of his body was instantly stained red with blood.
"Cough cough..."
He coughed violently, and with each cough, the wound on his chest reopened, the black, divinely punished cracks tearing at his flesh like a living centipede.
pain.
That really hurts.
These are the elite inner disciples? These are the Foundation Establishment sword cultivators?
Sure enough, faced with absolute power, the opportunistic "funnel" simply couldn't be transformed in time.
"Yu Liang!"
Su Xiu screamed and tried to rush over like a madwoman.
"Noisy."
Zhao Yijian casually waved his sleeve.
A gust of air threw Su Xiu to the ground, and an invisible sword pressure pressed her firmly into the mud, rendering her unable to move.
"Money...give me the money..."
Su Xiu's face was pressed against the muddy ground, tears mingling with the mud streaming down her face, yet she still screamed, "Give him the money! Stop hitting him! Give him the money!"
Zhao Yijian completely ignored the cries of this mortal woman.
He carried his sword and walked step by step toward Yu Liang.
The boots made a teeth-grinding crunch as they stepped on the wood chips.
"To survive one of my sword strikes, it seems your unorthodox techniques are indeed quite effective."
Zhao Yijian stood in front of Yu Liang, looking down at him, the tip of his sword aimed at Yu Liang's dantian.
"But with this second sword strike, I'll destroy your Qi Sea."
"In your next life, may you be reborn into a better family, and not be such a disgraceful piece of trash again."
The chill of death enveloped my entire body.
Yu Liang lay in a pool of blood, his face ashen white, his lips trembling.
He struggled to raise his uninjured right hand.
His fingers trembled as he reached out to Zhao Yijian.
Zhao Yijian sneered: "Trying to beg for mercy? Too late."
Yu Liang's fingers, however, went beyond the sword's edge and grabbed the hem of Zhao Yijian's white robe.
Pull hard.
That was a pull that used all the strength of its body.
On the pristine white Taoist robe, a bright red, glaring handprint was instantly left, like a red spider lily blooming in the snow.
Yu Liang grinned, revealing a mouthful of bloody teeth.
His voice was weak, yet it traveled clearly to the ears of everyone present:
"The table is five hundred... this dress is dirty... I'll give you two hundred..."
"A total of seven hundred spirit stones..."
"Even if I'm missing a single penny... I'll haunt your ancestral graves as a ghost..."