Volume Three: The Tenfold Principles of the Dao Chapter 81: Life Is Full of Moments to Show Off (2)

Is that so? What kind of answer is that? Either you are or you aren’t—this is the first time I’ve heard anyone put it that way.

With a hint of interest on his face, he looked at Qin Yang. “Friend, how about we have a little spar?”

The others, upon hearing this, were visibly excited. Song Peng could shatter a punching bag with one blow—just how hard must his fist be? How fierce must his strength be?

They themselves wouldn’t dare try it, but Qin Yang was different. He was also a martial artist; even if his skills were slightly inferior, he could still hold his own for a while.

Under the expectant gaze of the crowd, Qin Yang decisively refused. Who was he? A man who had slain kings—did he have time to play games with these youngsters? If they weren’t embarrassed, he certainly was.

Disappointment clouded Song Peng’s face. “How about I only use half my strength?”

“Come back when you can beat my little sister,” Qin Yang said, glancing at Bai Li He with a smile. “Let me see what you’ve got, little one.”

It was only then that everyone noticed the young girl before them. Though she was already a budding beauty, this was a fight, not a game. The others knew full well that she was the granddaughter of the old master Bai Li Song, but could she really fight?

This astonished everyone. In their eyes, Bai Li He was just a frail girl. To pit her against Song Peng was sheer madness. Didn’t she see that punch just now?

Bai Li He nodded, giggling, “Alright, brother. This is a perfect chance to try out the martial art I just learned.”

Song Peng, seeing the little girl before him, felt his enthusiasm wane. He’d be interested in fighting a man, but with this girl? He just couldn’t muster the excitement.

“Remember, underestimating your opponent is the greatest irresponsibility to your own life,” Bai Li He said. At that moment, a chill surged through the air.

She stepped forward, her movements light as if treading on ice, her body dancing, shadows flickering all around her.

Eighteen shadows appeared in the air, overlapping each other as they all surged toward Song Peng.

Those watching turned pale at the sight, not with worry, but with excitement.

A true martial artist.

This was the real deal. Once, they’d thought all the talk online was fake, but now they realized how ignorant they’d been. This was real—more real than gold.

Song Peng’s face grew serious. He hadn’t expected the little girl he’d looked down upon to unleash such formidable power.

The commotion drew the attention of those inside, especially Ye Ze and Ye Hua, who were visibly stunned. Old Master Ye, however, was less surprised. After all, this girl had been taken by Zhan Long—if she hadn’t improved after two months of training, he’d have to doubt Zhan Long’s ability.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With just one move, Song Peng was sent flying, his face dark and unsightly. Losing wasn’t shameful, but losing to this little girl was hard to swallow.

What kind of monster was this, so powerful?

Ye Bing hurried to support Song Peng, glaring at Bai Li He, “Why did you go so hard? This was just a friendly match!”

Hmph!

Seeing Bai Li He’s aggrieved expression, Qin Yang spoke up. Was this a joke? He was the one who had asked his sister to step forward. If anyone dared to scold her, he wouldn’t be Qin Yang of Beihai.

His voice was like thunder, exploding in Ye Bing’s mind, though no one else sensed a thing.

All they saw was Ye Bing’s trembling body and a face full of terror.

With a sweeping glance, Qin Yang withdrew his aura. If this weren’t the Ye family, and if she weren’t Old Master Ye’s granddaughter, Ye Bing would already be a corpse wrapped in a horsehide.

He shot a cold look at Song Peng and said, “In martial arts, avoid impatience, avoid competitiveness, and never use it to feed your vanity.”

“And remember, disaster comes from the mouth. You should be glad it was my sister who fought you. If it had been me, you’d already be a corpse.”

Martial arts—

For him, it was pure. A martial artist’s means were to defy fate, to wrest one’s destiny from the heavens, not to show off with flashy brawls.

Everyone stared at Qin Yang in astonishment, listening to his words, especially as they watched him walk away, giving a silent thumbs-up behind his back.

Impressive.

If you have the strength, then showing off is called being awesome. If you don’t, it’s just being a fool.

Qin Yang was the former—truly formidable.

Song Peng fell into deep thought, staring at the figure departing, then turned to Ye Bing and asked, “What’s his name?”

A true master would be renowned in the ancient martial world, but someone this young—how had he never heard of him? It made no sense.

“I think... I think his name is Qin Yang.”

“Qin Yang.” Hearing the name, Song Peng’s eyes narrowed, his body trembling. “He’s not from Bincheng, is he?”

Ye Bing’s cousin nearby grinned, “Wow, even you know that? Indeed, Qin Yang isn’t from Bincheng. My grandfather rescued him from Beihai and brought him here.”

So it was true—all the pieces fit. Looking for a girlfriend nearly cost him his life—just thinking about it was terrifying.

Yet beneath the fear, his heart brimmed with excitement.

Qin Yang of Beihai, known in the martial world as the God of Slaughter.

On that day, twelve kings of the ancient martial world were slain on Nanshan in Bincheng, a legendary feat.

He had aspired to become such a figure, never imagining that such a man would be right before his eyes, unrecognized.

But what truly cemented Qin Yang’s reputation was what the Sword Sage Ao Tian had said:

Unrivaled beneath the Profound Connection Realm.

What did that mean? As long as his opponent wasn’t above the Profound Connection Realm, he could walk through the world unopposed.

He glanced at the classical beauty who followed Qin Yang like a bodyguard. Her figure seemed familiar, but for all his efforts, he couldn’t recall who she was, which frustrated him to no end.

That meal was a strange affair. Song Peng gave up trying to win over his future mother-in-law and instead tried to curry favor with Bai Li He, much to his own exasperation.

After the meal, Qin Yang bid farewell to Old Master Ye and left with Bai Li He and Leng Qianyou.

Song Peng was full of regret. He had just brought up the idea of becoming Qin Yang’s disciple, but Qin Yang had refused him without a second thought.

Ye Bing stood by, watching Song Peng, unable to understand what all his earlier efforts had meant.

“Song Peng, why are you so determined to become Qin Yang’s disciple? Is he really that powerful?”

Song Peng looked at her as if she were a fool, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you. Qin Yang of Beihai, known as the God of Slaughter, undefeated beneath the Profound Connection Realm. If I could just learn a move or two from him, it would benefit me for life.”

What a pity. This was an opportunity, now missed.

Ye Bing clearly didn’t understand. Seeing Song Peng still brooding, she grew annoyed and ran to her father.

“Dad, do you know the name Qin Yang of Beihai?”

Ye Ze was sipping his tea when his hand suddenly shook, nearly dropping his cup. “Girl, that’s not a name to be tossed around lightly. Where did you hear it?”

“Song Peng told me. He wanted to become Qin Yang’s disciple, but was refused. Dad, why don’t you ask Grandpa to have a word with Qin Yang?”

“What?” Ye Ze shot to his feet, face stunned. “You mean that Qin Yang—the one from Beihai?”

His voice was so loud that everyone in the house heard, their faces frozen in shock.

Qin Yang of Beihai, known as the God of Slaughter.

Famed for slaying twelve kings of the ancient martial world on Nanshan in Bincheng.

No one knew his true origins or identity—only that he was a young man.