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

Huo Du's hands trembled like a Parkinson's patient's.

He took out a porcelain bottle from his pocket, poured out two dark red pills, and swallowed them.

That "Soul-Chasing Nail" was a unique hidden weapon of his esoteric sect, and no one knew better than him how potent its poison was.

If he hadn't taken the antidote quickly, he would probably be meeting the Eternal Heaven by now.

Yang Guo wasn't in a hurry.

He toyed with the unsharpened gentleman's sword in his hand, watching with great interest as Huo Du's face turned pale and then red.

A moment later, Huo Du let out a long breath.

He survived, but he lost all face.

The surrounding hundreds of people, including Taoist priests from the Quanzhen School and the Mongolian warriors they brought, stared at each other in disbelief.

In this battle, he not only lost in terms of martial arts skills, but also in terms of character.

First came the strategy of attrition warfare, then the sneak attacks with hidden weapons, and finally the sneak attacks backfired.

If this gets out, he, as a Mongolian prince and the prized disciple of the Golden Wheel Monk, will have no way to get along in the martial arts world or the imperial court!

Huo Du was, after all, a remarkable person.

He forced down the humiliation in his heart, straightened his robes, and straightened his back, trying to regain his noble demeanor.

"The green hills remain unchanged, and the clear waters flow on forever."

Huo Du cupped his hands in a respectful gesture towards Yang Guo, gritting his teeth as he said, "I will remember your kindness today. It seems the Quanzhen Sect truly has a master; we have been defeated this time."

He took a deep breath, his eyes turning sinister: "Now that the outcome is decided, according to the rules of the martial world, let's go."

As he spoke, he turned to help Darba, who was still on the ground questioning his existence.

"Three years from now, when I have mastered my divine skills, I will definitely return to Zhongnan Mountain to seek your guidance!"

This is the most standard polite phrase in the martial arts world.

If you can't win, run away. Before you run, you have to say something tough and make a three-year or ten-year agreement.

It makes it seem like they've lost, but they still have spirit, leaving themselves a fig leaf.

Although the Seven Masters of Quanzhen thought Huo Du was despicable, he was, after all, a Mongol prince. Since he had admitted defeat and was leaving, they couldn't very well kill him.

Qiu Chuji was about to say "No need to see me off" when...

"stop."

A lazy voice rang out.

Huo Du paused, turned around, and frowned: "You've won, you've been humiliated, what more do you want?"

Yang Guo picked at his ear with his little finger, looking at him like he was an idiot.

Did I say you could leave?

"Three years?"

Yang Guo scoffed and took a step forward: "Do you think this is child's play? You think you can come and go as you please? Three years later?"

Are you trying to say, "Don't underestimate a young person's potential?"

He shook his head, his eyes full of disdain: "Am I crazy to wait for you for three years? By then, my kids will be old enough to run errands. Who has time to play these pointless games with you?"

Yang Guo rolled his eyes inwardly.

These ancient people were just out of their minds.

Releasing a tiger back into the mountains will lead to endless troubles.

Although we can't kill Huo Du now—after all, if we kill him, the Mongol army can surround Zhongnan Mountain like an iron barrel tomorrow.

Although he himself was not afraid, the few hundred members of the Quanzhen Sect were not enough to satisfy the Mongol cavalry.

It wouldn't be worth risking your life for these old Taoist priests.

Moreover, if we max out the hatred level now, how will we be able to enjoy a carefree life with Sister Rong and Sister Long in the future?

Killing is not an option.

But that doesn't mean we can let him leave so comfortably.

"Then what do you want?" Khodu's face turned ashen. "I am a prince of the Great Mongol Kingdom. Do you dare to kill me?"

He bet Yang Guo wouldn't dare.

The Quanzhen Sect is a large and powerful organization; even if the monks can run away, the temple can't.

"Kill you?"

Yang Guo smirked, "Killing you would be so boring. I'd just make a mess of the ground and have to trouble the Taoist priests to clean it up."

Before he could finish speaking...

Yang Guo, who was originally standing two zhang away, suddenly became blurry.

Afterimage!

Several white afterimages left long trails in the air.

The Nine Yin Manual – Nine Spiral Shadows!

Huo Du's pupils contracted, and he instinctively wanted to raise his hand to block.

But he had just been poisoned and his internal energy hadn't been regulated yet, so how could his reaction keep up with Yang Guo in his prime?

"Snapped!"

A crisp, clear slap echoed across the empty square.

This slap was delivered without using internal force.

It was purely intimate contact, skin to skin.

It is not very harmful and extremely insulting.

Huo Du was completely stunned by the slap; his cheek swelled up visibly, and the five-finger mark was clear and red.

He covered his face, looking incredulously at Yang Guo, who had already retreated to his original spot.

"You...you dare slap me in the face?!"

He is a prince!

He grew up in luxury, and everyone treated him with utmost respect.

He was actually slapped like a grandson being disciplined?

"So what if I hit you?" Yang Guo blew on his palm, looking disgusted. "You're so shameless, the blow hurt my hand."

"When you ambushed me with those poison nails, didn't you ever think that I'm still a baby?"

Yang Guo sneered, "That was a duel just now, this is settling accounts."

"Since we've lost, we have to leave something behind."

Huo Du laughed angrily, "Fine! Fine! What do you want to leave behind? Money? Or my...life?"

The Mongol warriors behind him drew their swords and roared as they charged forward.

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

The Seven Masters of Quanzhen were on edge again.

Why doesn't Yang Guo know when to stop while he's ahead?

Yang Guo glanced around at the group of indignant Mongol warriors, his gaze finally settling on the weapons in their hands.

"Money? I'm not short of money."

"Life? Your life isn't worth much either."

Yang Guo extended his gentleman's sword and pointed it at the bluestone slab on the ground:

"You guys rushed in all that fuss, brandishing knives and guns. What if you scared the kids? Even if you didn't scare the kids, scaring the flowers and plants is still a sin."

"You can leave if you want."

Yang Guo held up one finger:

"Leave all the weapons behind."

These words caused an uproar in the room.

For martial arts practitioners, weapons are like a second life.

As long as the sword is there, the person is there; if the sword is gone, the person is gone.

These Mongolian warriors, in particular, were all from military backgrounds; losing their weapons meant losing their dignity as soldiers.

This is worse than killing them.

"Impossible!" Huo Du shouted angrily. "A scholar can be killed but not humiliated! Don't push your luck!"

"This is going too far!"

Yang Guo suddenly took a step forward.

The aura of a top-tier expert was released without reservation.

Although he had not reached the Innate Realm, his internal energy, refined through the Yi Jin Duan Gu Pian (a traditional Chinese medicine text), was terrifyingly concentrated.

Several Mongol warriors who were nearby were forced to take several steps back by this imposing aura.

"When you stormed the mountain gate, burned down the main hall, and killed the Taoist priests, didn't you feel you were going too far?"

Yang Guo's voice was icy:

"Now that you've lost, you want to talk to me about dignity?"

I'll count to three.

Yang Guo raised the Gentleman's Sword, its tip pointing directly at Huo Du's brow:

"one."

Huo Du gritted his teeth and stared intently at Yang Guo.

He didn't believe it.

He didn't believe Yang Guo would actually dare to do anything to these hundreds of people.

"two."

Yang Guo's internal energy began to circulate wildly.

The power of the One-Finger Divine Skill was contained within the fingertips, yet a faint hissing sound filled the air.

Huo Du broke out in a cold sweat.

He sensed a murderous aura.

That kid's crazy! He actually dared to do it!

If a real fight breaks out, both of our two top fighters will be crippled. Although the remaining warriors outnumber us, they'll just be able to get a few more blows from these experts.

completely annihilated.

If we all perish here, how will we explain it to our master when we get back?

Where there is life, there is hope.

Huo Du took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Throw."

Huo squeezed out a single word through gritted teeth.

"Prince!" the samurai beside him shouted unwillingly.

"I said throw it away!" Huo Du roared, his eyes snapping open. "Are you all deaf?! Throw away your weapons!"

Clang!

Huo Du was the first to unsheathe the sword from his waist and slam it to the ground.

With a leader in place, the rest is easy.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

A series of metallic clanging sounds rang out.

Scimitars, spears, maces...

All sorts of weapons were thrown on the ground, piling up into a small mountain.

Every Mongol warrior who threw down his weapon had a face full of humiliation, his head bowed, not daring to look at the mocking gazes of the Quanzhen Taoist priests around him.

Yang Guo nodded in satisfaction as he watched this scene.

That's more like it.

A tiger without teeth is just a sick cat.

An army without weapons is just a group of refugees.

Sending them slinking down the mountain not only demoralized them but also completely destroyed their momentum.

and……

Yang Guo thought to himself: If the Quanzhen Sect ever speaks ill of me again, I'll bring this up and see where they put their faces.

"Get lost."

Yang Guo waved his hand, "Don't come to Zhongnan Mountain unless you have to. The feng shui here is bad for you."

"You must believe what the Taoist priest says!"

Huo Du glared at Yang Guo with resentment. He said nothing more, helped the dazed Darba to his feet, and led the group of dejected, defeated soldiers down the mountain.

Yang Guo watched them walk away, and only then did his tense body relax a little.

Actually, he was also feeling uneasy just now.

If Huo Du is truly a hothead who insists on fighting to the death, then today's situation will be very difficult to manage.

Fortunately, this pretty boy is a smart man.

In other words, people who are afraid of dying.

The Taoist priests of the Quanzhen School were momentarily dazed as they watched the once arrogant Mongols tumble down the mountain like stray dogs.

That's it...? We won?

The calamity that was about to wipe out the entire family was averted by this young man with just a few sword strikes and a few words.

Many of the younger disciples' gazes toward Yang Guo had changed from initial doubt to admiration.

That's what a true powerhouse is!

In the midst of laughter and conversation, the enemy's ships and forts were reduced to ashes.

So cool!

Especially that slap just now, it really hit everyone in the heart.

Even Qiu Chuji, looking at Yang Guo's back, had an extremely complex expression in his eyes.

How come we didn't realize back then that this was a prodigy?

"Alright, the show's over, time to get down to business."

Yang Guo turned around.

He ignored the complicated gazes cast at him by the Seven Masters of Quanzhen.

His gaze pierced through the crowd and precisely locked onto the figure who was about to slip away quietly.

"Uncle Zhao."

Yang Guo shouted, his voice not loud, but it carried a chill that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Where are you in such a hurry to go?"