A single punch

The young man was, of course, Lin Bei.

He had originally been waiting in a mountainside alcove for the performance to begin, and when he saw Chu Liang and the young marquis land on the stage, even he had not expected things to unfold like this.

Who could have guessed that Chu Liang, whom he had dragged along only to watch the commotion, would end up at the very center of the stage?

After hearing that Chu Liang had forced Xia An to confess, Lin Bei had already guessed a rough outline of what was happening and had been about to rush forward to lend support when he saw the Marquis of Ding Mountain bring his men to surround Chu Liang. The situation instantly grew grave.

Lin Bei slowed his steps. He thought to himself that going up there would probably serve little purpose; better to preserve a useful body and observe the situation, so he could still rush back to the mountain with word if necessary.

But in less than a moment, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse. The Marquis of Ding Mountain seemed ready to strike at Chu Liang, hostages be damned. If no one stopped him, a battle was likely to break out at any second.

It was time for him to make his entrance!

Lin Bei naturally could not stand by and watch Chu Liang die. With that, he sprang forward and leaped to the center of the stage, asking the Marquis of Ding Mountain to give him some face and not make a move just yet.

What he got in return was a single barked order to get lost.

That one word was not merely a rebuke; it carried the force of the marquis's cultivation, like thunder exploding in his ears. Struck by that command, Lin Bei immediately flipped backward and fell from the stage, tumbling more than thirty feet before he managed to steady himself.

With great difficulty he climbed to his feet and shouted, “We are all disciples of Mount Shu. Marquis of Ding Mountain, dare you kill a disciple of Mount Shu?”

“Hmph.” The marquis snorted coldly. Knowing full well that all eyes were on him, he had to settle matters decisively. “Disciples of Mount Shu have plotted against the imperial clan. I will not merely kill you. Afterward, I will personally go to Mount Shu and demand justice!”

He spoke with cultivated force, every word sounding like a peal of thunder. To the common folk around them, it was as though waves of sound rolled outward; Lin Bei, who stood directly in his path, was sent flipping several more times, then crashed to the ground as if a mountain had been pressed onto his chest, unable to struggle back up.

“Marquis of Ding Mountain!” Seeing this, Chu Liang had no choice but to speak. “Let my fellow disciple go. This has nothing to do with him. If you release him, I will let go of the young marquis.”

“Oh?” The Marquis of Ding Mountain gave a cold smile, as if he had found Chu Liang's weak point. “You want me not to kill him? That can be arranged.”

His gaze turned icy. “You fabricated charges, spread sinister lies, and intended to harm the imperial clan. Do you plead guilty?”

The pressure of a stronger cultivator constantly bore down on Chu Liang, crushing both his will and his body. He swayed on the verge of collapse, especially since he had already suffered severe injuries earlier. Now, under such pressure, his wounds split open once more, and fresh blood slowly seeped out.

“Hah...” Chu Liang breathed with difficulty, forcing himself to stay conscious and not surrender on the spot, keeping his head held high.

“The heavens are clear, and justice exists. Do you think killing me will erase the crimes of your Marquis of Ding Mountain residence? You may seal one mouth shut, but can you block the eyes of tens of thousands, millions?”

Every word Chu Liang uttered rang like metal as he lifted his left arm and pointed toward the sea of people below.

The Marquis of Ding Mountain felt the gaze of those countless eyes upon him and, for a moment, actually felt a flicker of unease. For the first time, he sensed that human sight could wield power.

But after years of cultivation, how could he possibly be shaken by a few words from Chu Liang?

“Indeed. Justice resides in the hearts of the people, and afterward the court will render its judgment. But today, I must first take down you, this little thief who does not know the immensity of heaven and earth! If you still do not release my son, I will kill your fellow disciple on the spot!”

Once again the Marquis of Ding Mountain roared. He no longer intended to drag things out. With a sweep of his hand, he was about to grind Lin Bei to dust!

Lin Bei instantly panicked and shouted for mercy. “Hey! You can’t do this! To save your son, you’re going to kill your father?”

Chu Liang looked deeply at the Marquis of Ding Mountain.

Then he gently lowered the sword in his hand.

With a clang, the long sword fell to the ground. Chu Liang slumped down weakly; in truth, his grievously injured body had long since been unable to summon even the slightest strength. Now that his spirit faltered, he immediately went limp.

“Kill him.”

Seeing this, the Marquis of Ding Mountain showed no mercy and coldly spat out the command.

The guards swarmed in like wolves and tigers, their cultivation pressure as heavy as Mount Tai. Chu Liang, unable even to raise an arm, seemed to have only one path left: to stretch out his neck and await the blade.

And yet he wore a smile.

The Marquis of Ding Mountain looked at the boy's smile and felt an indescribable disgust. For some reason, although Chu Liang had not said a single word, it was as if he were mocking him with all his might.

Infuriating.

“Stop!”

Just as Chu Liang was about to be surrounded and killed, another clear voice suddenly rang out.

The Marquis of Ding Mountain's displeasure deepened. He turned to look.

There, at some point, a woman in a long robe of red and black had also landed on the stage. She was tall, even a shade taller than him, her hair tied back behind her head, with a strand falling on either side of her cheeks. Her features were bright and striking. Her chest was full, supporting a conspicuous jade ornament. Her waistline rose high, and her slim waist and long legs were especially eye-catching.

On her face was an expression utterly out of step with the tense atmosphere in the arena: lazy, languid, and faintly impatient, as though she had merely wandered over at a leisurely pace.

This was already the second time someone had shouted to stop the fighting. The Marquis of Ding Mountain was seething with rage. No matter who it was, he had to kill that Mount Shu disciple today, or else this matter would become impossible to settle.

So when he saw this unknown woman, he took her for nothing more than another meddlesome nobody like Lin Bei. At once he barked again, “Get lost!”

Puff.

The reply was a dull impact, like a rotten watermelon bursting when it hit the ground.

Only, he likely could not hear it anymore.

But the other guards on the stage heard it. Chu Liang heard it. Lin Bei heard it. Countless spectators below heard it...

So they all froze.

Because they had all seen it with their own eyes: the woman had simply strolled up to the Marquis of Ding Mountain, raised her fist, and punched.

She punched him squarely in the face.

That was not even accurate, because before that fist fell, the Marquis of Ding Mountain still had a face... but after it fell, he no longer had one. Not in the literal sense.

Not only his face.

The instant the woman swung her fist, a layer of crimson-gold flame coiled around it. The flaming strike landed with a soft muffled sound, and the Marquis of Ding Mountain's entire head vanished.

Not blown apart—upon closer inspection, it seemed that everything touched by that flame had simply been burned away and evaporated into nothingness, leaving behind not a trace.

Only a headless body remained where he had stood. Everything below the chest was intact, and the severed edge was remarkably smooth, but above the chest there was only emptiness.

What was most bizarre was that the Marquis of Ding Mountain was certainly no weakling, and yet he had simply watched the woman approach and strike without making any attempt to dodge. The whole scene looked utterly uncanny.

“Hah.”

The woman withdrew her flame-wreathed fist and gave it a shake, whereupon the crimson-gold fire dissipated completely. She then blew gently, scattering the last wisp of smoke.

Her expression remained utterly calm, as though she had done nothing more than a trivial errand.

Only then did she turn back, shrug at Chu Liang, who was collapsed on the ground, and with a hint of confusion in her expression, point at the headless body behind her and ask,

“Who is this? How rude.”