Chapter 24: Still Got a Temper?

Zhu Xiaofeng finally awoke from his stupor, and when he looked at Qin Chuan again, his gaze was tinged with shock and apprehension. Even he would never have been able to handle the combined assault of his four disciples with such ease as Qin Chuan had demonstrated. Moreover, Qin Chuan specifically targeted the strong points assigned in their formation, never giving the disciples a chance to fully assemble their array, and crushed each one by exploiting their individual weaknesses.

“I truly underestimated you,” Zhu Xiaofeng said quietly.

“Or perhaps you’ve overestimated yourself?” Qin Chuan retorted.

Zhu Xiaofeng was momentarily speechless. This fellow not only possessed considerable strength, but his talent for verbal sparring was just as formidable.

“Let’s see who is stronger in practice, not words!” Zhu Xiaofeng said coldly.

Qin Chuan nodded in agreement. “Very well! As a model youth who respects his elders, I’ll let you strike first.”

He despised those who rambled endlessly before a fight. In his eyes, such melodramatic moments were either padding from a web novel author or extra screen time bought by the investors.

“As you wish!” Before his words finished, Zhu Xiaofeng abruptly launched forward, his whole figure like a tiger descending from the mountains, thrusting his right palm straight at Qin Chuan’s head.

The palm’s force preceded its arrival.

Qin Chuan squinted slightly; he hadn’t expected this old man to have mastered the art of palm force. Ordinary people could produce a breeze with their palm after a few years of practice, but it was negligible and harmless. True palm force, born from years of diligent practice and exceptional talent, could injure and even kill—a single blow could break bones or claim a life.

“Now this is interesting!” Qin Chuan swiftly sidestepped, evading the fierce strike.

“Where are you running?” Zhu Xiaofeng, missing his mark, pivoted on his left foot and, using the momentum, delivered a reverse palm strike aimed at Qin Chuan’s abdomen.

Qin Chuan retreated three or four meters, dodging the deadly attack once more.

“Hmph!” Zhu Xiaofeng snorted, then executed a side somersault to land by Qin Chuan’s left, stomping downward toward his head.

Qin Chuan seemed to have springs attached to his feet, knees bending as he launched himself backward.

Zhu Xiaofeng’s foot landed on the spot where Qin Chuan had stood, driving into the flagstone ground and leaving a pit deeper than the top of his foot. Splintered stones shot out, embedding sharp fragments into the surrounding trees.

“Is dodging all you can do?” Zhu Xiaofeng was on the verge of fury. He’d observed Qin Chuan’s speed before, but now felt it keenly. Every time Zhu Xiaofeng mustered his strength, Qin Chuan evaded effortlessly, leaving him with a sense of striking nothing but air.

“Of course not. Those last three moves were me honoring the virtue of respecting elders,” Qin Chuan replied earnestly.

“No need for your charity. Show me your best techniques,” Zhu Xiaofeng snapped.

“Very well, but once I strike, you’ll have no chance to retaliate.” Without another word, Qin Chuan launched his counterattack, aiming a blow at Zhu Xiaofeng’s head.

“Well done!” Zhu Xiaofeng started to praise him, then realized that Qin Chuan was using the exact same move he had just employed, targeting the same spot.

“He’s copying me?”

“He’s actually copying me?”

“Damn it! Damn it all!” Zhu Xiaofeng raged internally. Was this fellow turning his own methods against him?

At that moment, Zhu Xiaofeng suddenly remembered Murong Fu from the martial arts novel “Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils,” whose family skill was to return others’ techniques upon them.

“Trying to show off with a borrowed axe? Let me show you what real Iron Sand…”

Smack!

Before Zhu Xiaofeng could finish the word “Palm,” his and Qin Chuan’s palms collided in mid-air.

His entire arm was instantly numb, losing all sensation, as an immense force surged through. It was as if he’d been struck by a speeding truck; even with his swift defense, he was shaken back over ten meters, only stopped by an off-road vehicle. Most astonishing of all, his palm was split open, blood seeping between his fingers.

“How is this possible?” Zhu Xiaofeng was stunned. His palms had shattered stone and left dents in steel plates; yet a simple exchange with Qin Chuan had resulted in such devastation, shattering his understanding of martial skill.

“What kind of being has Guo Yunxiong offended?”

In his mind, Zhu Xiaofeng cursed Guo Yunxiong’s ancestors eighteen generations back.