Chapter 183: Crossing Hands

In a small courtyard near the Haoran Martial Hall, two martial artists, one middle-aged and one young, stood facing each other in fighting stances.

Both were tall and sturdy, with serious expressions, sharp eyes, and deep auras. Their visible muscles appeared very soft yet contained explosive power.

On the other side of the courtyard stood two other martial artists. Both had thick legs and broad shoulders, their entire bodies exuding a fierce and seasoned aura. They felt like two human-shaped tigers or lions, clearly not ordinary martial artists.

One middle-aged man with graying temples said, “Feng Lun’s Saint Ancestor’s Free Hand perfectly combines form and spirit. He once fought alone against hundreds of bandits at Heya, using the mountain forest to his advantage and killing them one by one. Wu Anzhi is probably no match for him.”

The man beside him had dark skin and special beast tattoos on his face. Hearing this, he replied, “Although Wu Anzhi lacks the other’s experience, his physical strength should still surpass Feng Lun’s. It all depends on whether Feng Lun can burst out and take him down in one go. The two have an old feud between their schools; I’m afraid this time it will be a fight to the death.”

The two watched the pair intently. The next instant, their vision blurred as the middle-aged man on the field charged forward like a leopard.

The middle-aged man called Feng Lun surged with energy, his long robe fluttering up and down. He extended one hand, as if an immortal pointing the way. Particularly, during this pointing motion, his fingertip swayed up, down, left, and right like a poisonous snake, creating multiple afterimages, making it impossible to predict where it would land.

On the other side, Wu Anzhi’s eyes lit up seeing this. He slightly raised his body, and a series of light cracking sounds came from his arms, as if a mighty lion had awakened. Then he threw a punch, and amid the whistling wind, the faint sound of a lion’s roar could be heard.

This showed he had practiced his Lion Fist to a masterful level. With the vibration of his bones and vocal cords, he produced the lion’s roar.

Bam! The finger and fist collided. Feng Lun shouted “Good!” He hadn’t expected his opponent, despite his young age, to practice Lion Fist to such a level. Just as his finger was deflected, his other hand suddenly swung like a steel whip, pivoting from his shoulder, striking fiercely toward Wu Anzhi’s belly.

When Feng Lun used this hand whip, his entire arm seemed to soften into one piece, as if even his elbow and wrist had merged together. This was because he had trained the soft power in his arm to the pinnacle, to the point where his wrist and elbow were nearly invisible.

With this whip strike, even if it were a piece of granite before him, Feng Lun was confident he could crack the rock.

If Wu Anzhi took this whip strike on his belly, he would likely be cut in half on the spot.

Wu Anzhi seemed to know he couldn’t take this whip strike head-on. His legs flashed repeatedly as he rapidly retreated backward. But with this retreat, the crucial momentum of his Lion Fist was lost, and Feng Lun immediately gained the upper hand.

Seeing his move miss, Feng Lun pressed his advantage without relenting. His hands created multiple afterimages, lashing toward Wu Anzhi like a storm.

Each whip strike produced air-splitting sounds. Feng Lun’s hands seemed to transform into two large iron whips, wildly striking.

The iron whip was a weapon historically used by generals on the battlefield. The Saint Ancestor’s Free Hand that Feng Lun now used was a martial art created by the founding emperor of Great Qi, transforming whip techniques into hand techniques—absolutely fierce to the extreme.

After continuously dodging, Wu Anzhi finally had to thrust one hand out to block the inside of his opponent’s arm. He used his full strength in this move but still underestimated his opponent’s martial prowess.

As Wu Anzhi blocked Feng Lun’s hand whip, the other’s arm seemed limp like noodles, offering no resistance. Using Wu Anzhi’s blocking hand as a pivot, Feng Lun’s palm swung toward his face.

The distance was too close. Wu Anzhi felt his scalp tingle and his heart race wildly. He let out a lion’s roar from his mouth, and his other fist desperately hammered toward Feng Lun’s crotch, clearly aiming for mutual destruction.

But Feng Lun’s experience was extremely seasoned. He instantly retreated, evading Wu Anzhi’s mutual destruction strike. Although his hand whip didn’t hit Wu Anzhi’s face, his palm scraped like a file, leaving a thumb-thick wound on the other’s shoulder.

Over the next several exchanges, Feng Lun continuously left wounds on Wu Anzhi’s body. Seeing the other’s steps gradually weaken and his hands grow limp, Feng Lun seized an opening in Wu Anzhi’s defense and viciously whipped toward his temple. If this strike landed, the other’s head would likely explode.

Just as everyone thought Wu Anzhi was surely dead, Feng Lun felt his vision blur. A fair, tender palm had already blocked in front of him.

It was Zuo Zhicheng’s palm.

The reason Zuo Zhicheng’s palm and even the skin of his entire body were fair and tender was due to his practice of the Yama Golden Body. The surface of his skin all over had a layer of bouncing force that repelled old skin, dead skin, and various dust particles, making his skin appear extremely fair and tender.

Crack! It sounded like an iron whip striking a steel plate. Not only did Feng Lun’s strike achieve nothing, but his entire arm also went numb. His blood and energy churned, and he couldn’t exert strength.

Meanwhile, Wu Anzhi felt a great force on his neck. He was lightly lifted and pulled away like a chick.

After a sensation of soaring through clouds and mist, he had flown over ten meters away.

Knowing someone had interfered, Feng Lun snorted coldly. Regardless of who it was, his other hand immediately whipped toward the other’s chest.

From their brief exchange just now, he knew the other’s martial arts were likely above his own. So, he used his full strength in this whip strike. All the joints in his body cracked in unison, his shoulder twisted, and his entire arm suddenly seemed to grow longer.

Feng Lun gathered all the strength in his body into this one move. The air seemed to be ripped apart, emitting a buzzing sound.

But facing this move, Zuo Zhicheng neither dodged nor avoided it, neither parried nor blocked. He just looked at Feng Lun with calm eyes, allowing him to whip his chest fiercely.

In that split second, Zuo Zhicheng’s entire body seemed to vibrate. The muscles all over his body, along with the intense vibration, acted like a great river, channeling all the force to his chest and then releasing it.

Using the skin on his chest to exert force was almost unbelievable martial skill. But Zuo Zhicheng, relying on his astonishing martial cultivation and the teachings of the Yama Golden Body, accomplished it easily.

Clearly, during this period of training, not only had his Cold Light Rippling Sword and Dao Arts improved, but he hadn’t neglected all his other martial arts either. Due to his efforts and the advancement in his Physique Strength, he had made significant progress.

Bang! A loud noise rang out as palm and chest met. Feng Lun’s arm snapped back as if run over by a truck. He himself stumbled back over ten steps before barely stopping. His eyes widened like bull’s eyes, staring fixedly at Zuo Zhicheng, who hadn’t moved at all.

The two martial artists on the side also looked greatly shocked, their eyes shining with intense light, staring incredulously at Zuo Zhicheng’s chest. Under Feng Lun’s whip strike just now, the other’s upper garment was torn open with a rip, but the skin on his body remained as fair and tender as a baby’s, without even a red mark.

‘Unharmed? How could he be completely unharmed?’

This thought echoed in the minds of all four present.

Zuo Zhicheng looked at the tattered clothing on his chest and nodded toward Feng Lun before him. “To achieve this level with your current physical strength… not bad.”