Chapter 241
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Chapter 241: Victory
Admitted defeat? Ye Yun admitted defeat?
How was this possible? Everyone knew Ye Yun’s strength. Though no one had personally witnessed his rumored draw against Murong Wuhen, many had seen Ye Yun drive Ming Siyu to flee in defeat—this was undeniable truth.
What level was Ming Siyu at? His cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the Qi refining stage years ago. He stood among the few Shadowless Peak disciples capable of breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage. Yet Ye Yun had crushed him effortlessly. From this alone, one could grasp Ye Yun’s true power.
But now, Ye Yun was surrendering outright to a mere fifth-level Qi refining disciple? This made no sense.
"Foul play! This is deliberate!"
"Exactly! Ye Yun’s cheating! The sect competition is sacred—how dare they scheme like this?"
"May Elder Tai deliver justice! Strip them both of their rankings!"
"Right! If everyone acts this way, where’s the fairness?"
The crowd erupted in angry protests.
Duan Chenfeng scanned the disciples with a cold smirk. "Not satisfied? Come up here then. With my sworn brother and me in this group, you worthless trash think you can win? Don’t make me laugh."
"This isn’t fair! You’re breaking the rules!" A fellow group member shouted indignantly.
Duan Chenfeng scoffed. "Same group, huh? Then challenge me. If you can’t even beat me, stop your useless whining."
"Whether I beat you or not doesn’t matter—you’re violating the competition’s spirit!" The disciple’s face flushed crimson.
"Which rule exactly? Does it say I can’t choose when to fight or surrender?" Duan Chenfeng crossed his arms, oozing mockery.
The disciple faltered. Indeed, the rules only prohibited lethal strikes and emphasized brotherhood while encouraging full effort. Nowhere did they forbid conceding matches or demand total victory against every opponent.
"Enough yapping! Fight or scram? For brotherhood’s sake, I’ll only break one arm." Duan Chenfeng grinned wolfishly.
The disciple paled, scrambling backward while wildly waving his hands.
"Anyone else? So lonely being unmatched…" Duan Chenfeng clasped his hands behind his back, feigning melancholy as he surveyed the crowd.
"Me!"
A disciple in a teal robe leaped from the crowd onto the platform. Landing, he immediately jabbed a finger at Duan Chenfeng. "I won’t fight you. I challenge Ye Yun for second place!"
Duan Chenfeng blinked, wondering if he’d misheard. This fool wanted to bypass him and challenge Ye Yun directly?
"Bastard! You dare challenge Ye Yun with that pitiful strength? I’ll kick you down myself!" Duan Chenfeng’s brows knotted in irritation.
"Ye Yun! Are you some delicate maiden hiding behind men? Face me!" The disciple whirled to point at Ye Yun below the platform.
Ye Yun wiped sweat from his brow, utterly exasperated. Was this idiot suicidal, openly provoking him like this?
Yet public challenges couldn’t be ignored.
"Senior Duan, withdraw for now. I’ll handle this." Ye Yun sighed. His figure flickered—employing a sliver of Illusory Thunderlight Escape—before materializing on the platform.
Several spectators’ eyes sharpened, catching traces of profound movement techniques.
On the elevated platform, a middle-aged man’s eyebrow twitched. Surprise flashed through his eyes before settling into a gentle smile.
"I’m Chen Zhiping! Sixth-level Qi refining stage! Today I’ll defeat you!" The teal-robed disciple roared at Ye Yun.
Ye Yun nodded and said, “Senior Brother Chen’s strength is indeed impressive. Since you wish to instruct me, make your move.”
Chen Zhiping nodded as well. “Since you acknowledge my skill and seek my guidance, you should attack first. I’ll assess the flaws in your offensive technique. Don’t worry—I’ll take my time defeating you to ensure proper instruction.”
Chen Zhiping grew smug at Ye Yun’s words, convinced the younger disciple feared him. There was no way Ye Yun, at the second stage of Qi refining, could have fought Murong Wuhen to a draw or defeated Ming Siyu, who stood at the pinnacle of the Qi refining stage. Becoming an inner disciple with such low cultivation was already a stretch—how could he rival Murong Wuhen? As for the rumors of him defeating Ming Siyu, they were surely exaggerated by gossip.
Ye Yun sighed inwardly. This Senior Brother Chen seemed delusional.
“Fine. I’ll reluctantly throw a single strike. Please enlighten me, Senior Brother.”
Ye Yun exhaled and threw a plain, unremarkable punch. It lacked visible power and moved at an average speed, yet it arrived before Chen Zhiping in an instant.
Startled by its swiftness, Chen Zhiping relaxed when he sensed the weak force behind it—no stronger than the third level of Qi refining. Though slightly beyond Ye Yun’s apparent cultivation, it would feel like a light tap.
He retaliated with seventy percent of his strength, cautious not to kill Ye Yun outright and embarrass Elder Tai.
But the moment their fists met, Chen Zhiping’s confidence shattered. An immense power surged from Ye Yun’s punch, overwhelming his defenses. Had it struck his chest, his five internal organs would have shattered instantly.
“Impossible!” Chen Zhiping roared, channeling all his true qi into his right fist to counter.
Yet Ye Yun’s fist felt immovable, like the Ancient Mountain of the Gods. Chen Zhiping’s efforts were futile—his true qi as insignificant as an ant before a mountain.
*Crack!*
His right arm snapped, the force rebounding to slam into his shoulder. He hurtled off the platform, landing in a heap. Strangely, the devastating power only broke his arm before softening, sealing his true qi and leaving him unharmed beyond humiliation.
“How?!” Chen Zhiping clutched his broken arm, trembling. “A second-stage Qi refining cultivator can’t wield such power! Impossible!”
Ignoring him, Ye Yun scanned the crowd. “In the third group, Duan Chenfeng takes first place. I’ll settle for second. Any objections?”
Silence fell. Even bystanders stared in awe. The brilliance of Ye Yun’s strike lay not in its force, but in his precise control—softening the blow after breaking Chen Zhiping’s arm. Such mastery over true qi belonged only to those at the pinnacle of Qi refining.
*He’s hiding his true strength!*
Every disciple reached the same conclusion. Ye Yun’s second-stage cultivation was a facade. He’d clearly reached the pinnacle, masking it with secret techniques or treasures.
*Devious!*
Hundreds shuddered at Ye Yun’s gentle smile.
“Seems we’ve overdone it,” Duan Chenfeng chuckled, slinging an arm around Ye Yun. “Too arrogant?”
Ye Yun grinned. “What’s wrong with flaunting real strength?”
Duan Chenfeng burst into laughter. “Well said! Who dares question us?”
Their boldness drew icy glares from the crowd, though a few watchers’ eyes gleamed with calculation.
Ye Yun’s cooperation with Duan Chenfeng’s theatrics was deliberate. That punch had used less than twenty percent of his power—he’d cap himself at fifty percent to hide his true abilities for the Heavenly Sword Sect competition. Let rivals underestimate him now; their surprise would be his advantage later.
Even as he laughed, Ye Yun scanned the disciples. He noted the hostile stares but focused on those few intrigued observers—all strangers.
“Youth group, adult group… Pointless divisions.” Ye Yun clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping the arena. A faint smile flickered. “If only I could face Yang Hualong in the sect competition…”
