Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Brother Jing, let's get a divorce.

Sword energy crisscrossed the arena.

Yang Guo became more and more adept at fighting, and even felt a sense of satisfaction.

He had practiced the Chongyang Sword Technique for a long time, but he could only vent his anger on the crooked tree outside the ancient tomb or spar with his cold and delicate Dragon Sister.

But when sparring with Sister Long, how could he bear to really use his strength? He was afraid of bumping or bruising her jade-like skin and icy bones, so he always had to hold back, which was very frustrating.

Today, I've finally encountered such a tough, resilient, and top-notch punching bag. It's like a gift from the gods, a perfect opportunity to test my skills.

Yang Guo even found the barbarian to be much more pleasing to the eye.

"Hey big guy, haven't you eaten yet?"

As Yang Guo swung his sword, he launched into a mocking tone, his eyes full of ridicule: "You're quite strong, but unfortunately not very bright. Did you learn that way of wielding your sword from Wang Ermazi at the village blacksmith's shop? It's all brute force; aren't you afraid of hurting your back?"

These words were extremely hurtful. Although Darba wasn't very fluent in Chinese, he could tell from Yang Guo's nonchalant, even slightly pitying, expression that they were definitely not nice.

Darba was so angry that he roared and swung his vajra in a dense, impenetrable manner, wishing he could smash the slippery flea in front of him into a pulp.

But Yang Guo was like a ghost dancing on the edge of a knife, his steps unpredictable and erratic.

The gentleman's sword in his hand was no longer an inanimate object, but an extended limb.

As if it had come to life, it didn't need any intricate or complicated variations; it was simply a straight thrust, a diagonal slash, or a horizontal cut.

The greatest truths are the simplest, returning to one's true nature.

Each sword strike landed precisely at the awkward juncture where Darba's old strength was not yet exhausted and his new strength had not yet arisen. Darba felt as if all his strength was hitting cotton, unable to exert any force, his chest felt tight, and he felt so frustrated that he wanted to vomit blood.

Yang Guo felt incredibly refreshed. His internal energy surged through his meridians, a sensation that made every pore on his body open up.

That's right! This old Taoist Chongyang's swordsmanship may have a rather rustic name, not as catchy as "Jade Maiden's Pure Heart," but it's incredibly effective. Especially when paired with this blunt-edged gentleman's sword, it's practically a weapon for showing off. I'll have to demonstrate it to Sister Long later, saying I practiced day and night to protect her until I was so skilled. Hehe, maybe if Sister Long is moved and her eyes soften, she'll let me kiss that soft little hand… or, to be even bolder, unlock even more…?

While his mind was filled with those erotic and sordid images, his hands didn't soften at all; on the contrary, they became even more swift and fierce.

"Go!"

Yang Guo's eyes suddenly sharpened as he seized an opening in Darba's attack.

This time, he didn't dodge. While dodging was stylish, it wasn't impressive enough. To establish his authority, he needed to deliver something substantial.

The immense internal energy within his body, refined over sixteen years through the Yi Jin Duan Gu chapter of the Nine Yin Manual, was mobilized in that instant and poured into the Gentleman's Sword.

Chongyang Sword Technique – "Return of All Things to Their Origin"!

Of course, Yang Guo just came up with this name on a whim, but it sounds powerful when he says it. He can't exactly call this move "I'll smash you to death with one sword."

"Bang!"

A deep, muffled thud, like a heavy hammer striking a drum, followed. The Gentleman's Sword struck the vajra's handle once more.

This time, it's no longer a matter of using leverage to deflect a powerful attack; it's a direct, head-on clash!

The pure internal energy surged violently into the vajra through the sword.

"Buzz—"

The vajra trembled violently. Darba felt an overwhelming and terrifying force rushing towards him through the weapon. His arms went numb instantly, and his tiger's mouth could not withstand the force of the impact. It split open instantly, and blood flowed freely.

The vajra, which he had held for a lifetime, suddenly became scalding hot, and he could barely hold it.

Clang!

The 64-pound golden vajra flew out of his hand, tumbled several times in the air, creating a gust of wind, and slammed heavily at Huo Du's feet, shattering a pile of blue bricks and sending shards of stone flying.

The entire room fell silent.

Darba remained in the clenched grip, staring blankly at his empty, bloodied hands, his face filled with disbelief.

He was defeated by a little kid who hadn't even grown a full beard yet.

Moreover, he was defeated head-on by the very power he was most proud of, a power he had never lost to.

How is this possible? Is this a hallucination?

Zhao Zhijing, who was not far away, almost popped his eyes out.

This is impossible! This is absolutely impossible! How could this little beast possibly have such cultivation?

Six months ago, he was just a good-for-nothing bastard who could only talk big. How could he suddenly become a peerless master? He must have used some kind of sorcery!

Yang Guo took a deep breath to calm his blood and qi, and slowly sheathed his sword. He twirled the Gentleman's Sword in his hand, then put his hands behind his back, his fingers hidden in his sleeves trembling slightly.

Ouch—that really hurts. Did I overdo it with that sword strike? My hand is a little numb, and I can barely feel the space between my thumb and forefinger. But that showmanship was definitely executed flawlessly, the effect was top-notch, giving it a perfect score isn't an exaggeration.

As the sun set, its rays, like blood, cast an extremely long shadow on him.

Although the young man's Taoist robe was worn and covered in dust, in the eyes of the crowd at this moment, he was like a god descending to earth, radiating a light that made people dare not look directly at him.

He slightly raised his chin, enduring the soreness and numbness in his arm, maintaining an inscrutable smile, his gaze passing over the dumbfounded Darba and landing directly on the ashen-faced Huodu.

"Prince Huodu"

Yang Guo's lips curled into a playful smile, his tone flippant.

"Your big senior brother isn't doing so well either, he's quite weak."

"or……"

Yang Guo extended his left hand and gently hooked his index finger, a gesture that was extremely provocative.

"You and your fellow disciples, come at me together?"

"It saves me the trouble of cleaning everything up one by one, wasting time and making me late for dinner. My wife is waiting for me."

Huo Du was so angry he felt like he was about to grind his teeth to powder.

The Seven Masters of Quanzhen exchanged glances, each seeing the shock and... a trace of inexplicable guilt in each other's eyes.

This child has already become a dragon.

Such extraordinary talent! How blind was the Quanzhen Sect to miss out on such a gem?

They even abandoned Yang Guo alone in the back mountain and left him there without a care.

Hidden behind the crowd, half his body in the shadows, Yin Zhiping watched the dazzling, radiant figure, his fingernails digging deep into his palms until they bled, oblivious to the pain. His face was contorted with jealousy and hatred.

Why...why does he get all the glory? The Dragon Girl is his, and now even the spotlight as the savior is his...this should be mine! What is it about me, Yin Zhiping, that makes this frivolous playboy inferior?!

At this moment, Yang Guo, though outwardly calm as Mount Tai, was inwardly ranting and raving:

Why hasn't that pretty boy Huo made a move yet? If he all attacks at once, should I run a few steps to pull him away? Oh well, whatever, I can't lose face. As long as I'm not embarrassed, they're the ones who will be. Ugh, my hands are still numb. I'll have to ask Sister Long to massage them later…