Volume Four: Renowned Far and Wide Chapter 135: The Dust Settles

The Butcher was covered in blood, his arm shattered and shredded from the force of gripping his cleaver, presenting a truly miserable sight. Opposite him, Qin Yang fared no better; his clothes were in tatters, and his face was deathly pale, devoid of all color. He leaned heavily on his Star-Fall Blade to keep himself from collapsing.

Observing this, the surrounding crowd grew restless. Seeing Qin Yang wounded and weakened, many felt that if they struck now, they might have a chance to finish him off.

"You won," the Butcher said, sounding utterly dejected. His strongest move had failed to defeat his opponent, and he felt a profound sense of despair. Dragging his heavy body away, he felt a strange, sudden sense of liberation.

Qin Yang stood up and called out to the retreating figure, "You haven't told me why you did it."

"I needed a Heaven-Origin Pill."

Qin Yang’s lips twitched. A Heaven-Origin Pill—a legendary item capable of extending one's lifespan. No wonder the Butcher had been so desperate. Seeing the expression on Qin Yang's face, the Butcher realized how extravagant his wish had been. He shook his head helplessly and continued to move away.

"I can refine one."

"What?" The Butcher’s face filled with shock, his eyes burning with intensity. His body trembled with excitement. The Heaven-Origin Pill was an advanced elixir, far beyond the reach of ordinary alchemists. For Qin Yang to claim he could refine it was unbelievable. He stammered, "R-really?"

Seeing Qin Yang nod, the Butcher knelt on one knee. "Qin Yang, if you can refine that pill for me, my life belongs to you."

"You must gather the materials yourself..." Qin Yang listed the necessary components. As the Butcher prepared to leave, he paused and added, "The one who ordered me to kill you is the Yao family, a clan of alchemists from the Ancient Martial World. I don't know exactly who it was, but considering they promised me a Heaven-Origin Pill, they must hold a high position within the family."

"The Yao family?" Qin Yang was unfamiliar with this faction, and the reason for their target on his back remained a mystery.

The Butcher hurried away, and the other martial artists, sensing the shift in the air, began to disperse. Qin Yang’s friends felt a surge of alarm; they hadn't expected such a sudden, frenzied assault.

A silver flash of sword light streaked across the sky, swift as a viper, swallowing up any who dared to block its path. A figure in flowing white robes descended, his black hair dancing in the wind.

It was the White-Clad Sword Saint, Aotian.

Aotian looked at Qin Yang and chuckled. "Qin Yang, how did you get into such a miserable state? Letting these small-fry attack you—it’s beneath your dignity."

Qin Yang rolled his eyes. *As if I had a choice.* With so many people around, getting away wasn't easy, especially while critically injured.

With the White-Clad Sword Saint standing guard, the onlookers realized they had lost their chance, and they retreated with looks of bitter frustration. They knew opportunities like this were rare, and missing it was a heavy blow.

Seeing that Qin Yang was safe, Song Yu felt a wave of relief and began to walk away.

Qin Yang looked down, nodded toward Ye Mei'er, and then cast his gaze elsewhere. His whole body jolted as if struck by lightning—the figure in the distance was someone he knew all too well. Just as he prepared to step forward, a mouthful of blood erupted from his throat.

"Song Yu!"

After shouting the name, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Others might not have understood the significance of that name, but Zhang Mengqi did. They had been classmates. She looked around in confusion—why would Qin Yang call out that name? Could Song Yu actually be here? She dismissed the thought as impossible; Song Yu had gone abroad five years ago without a trace. If she had returned, it wouldn't have been so quiet, and an ordinary person would have struggled to even reach this place. A sense of melancholy washed over her. *Sigh, it seems Qin Yang still hasn't forgotten her.*

Hidden in the crowd, Song Yu nearly answered when she heard his cry, but she restrained herself, covered her face, and slipped away into the crowd.

Zhang Kuang shouldered his Jinghong Blade, glared at the remaining crowd, and roared, "Get lost! Do you want to die?"

With five or six Profound Realm experts present, and no one of equal caliber to stand against them, the remaining martial artists fled, marking the end of the preliminary events of the Martial Arts Tournament.

***

In Sanmiao Village, Qin Yang’s father had made a full recovery. His healing rate was so extraordinary that even the doctors were shocked, eventually attributing it to a miracle.

The courtyard was bustling. Wang Kun played chess with Qin’s father, while Ye Mei'er and Zhang Mengqi helped Qin’s mother with the cooking. Tie Niu spent his days in relaxed leisure. As for the White-Clad Sword Saint and Zhang Kuang, once they were sure Qin Yang was out of danger, they took their leave, asking the others to tell Qin Yang they would settle their scores at the tournament.

For days, the threshold of the Qin household was worn thin by relatives hoping to bask in the family's newfound prestige. Unfortunately, they were met with cold shoulders. The martial artists respected Qin Yang and his parents, but these so-called relatives weren't worth their time.

Three days later, Qin Yang awoke from his slumber. Feeling his wounds healed and smelling the rich aroma of food, a faint smile graced his face. He thought back to that figure again. He was certain he hadn't imagined it. If it truly was Song Yu, why wouldn't she acknowledge him?

As he pondered, Wang Kun and the others were overjoyed to see him awake. His father went out to buy wine, intent on celebrating.

That afternoon, Zhou Ming, Wang Qiang, and He Tianlong arrived, accompanied by Qin Ling'er, who had just finished her exams.

Zhou Ming and Wang Qiang were merely surprised by the number of guests, but as ordinary people, they didn't think much of it. He Tianlong, however, was a martial artist. As he took in the people present, his eyes widened in horror.

The battle at North Sea had long since gone viral, and the legendary figures involved had been documented in detail. How could he not be shocked to see Wang Kun and the others? These were Profound Realm experts—people he might never have seen in his entire life if not for this visit.

*North Sea Qin Yang... he truly lives up to his reputation as a titan,* He thought. *To have so many experts visit him—his influence is beyond compare.*

He caught sight of Tie Niu, who was chopping wood like a giant. He gasped internally; that must be Tie Niu, a master of body-refining. His physical defense and explosive power were on par with a low-level Profound Realm expert. Seeing such a man chopping firewood for the Qin family left him speechless.

"Haha, little one, don't be so nervous. Sit wherever you like," Wang Kun said with a laugh. Hearing this, He Tianlong grew even more anxious, his heart racing. *Master Wang is actually speaking to me...* He felt an overwhelming sense of fortune.