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

Yin Zhiping paced back and forth in the room, his forehead covered in a fine layer of sweat.

News of the Quanzhen Sect's grand competition has spread throughout Zhongnan Mountain. The rules of the Tongtian Arena are clearly laid out.

He had personally witnessed Yang Guo's martial arts skills. In the main hall of Chongyang Palace, even Huo Du and Darba, working together, were utterly defeated by him. His own Quanzhen martial arts skills accumulated over the decades were simply no match for Yang Guo.

If Yang Guo were to conquer all nine levels of the arena, claim the title, and become the sect leader, would I, as his master, still have a chance of survival?

He knew perfectly well what had happened. He had tried to defile Xiaolongnu outside the Ancient Tomb. The attempt had failed, and instead, Yang Guo had used it against him. Yang Guo's warning to him outside Chongyang Palace that day still echoed in his ears.

Yang Guo is an unruly madman. Keeping him around is a way to slowly torment him.

Either way, it's a dead end.

He recalled that night outside the ancient tomb, when Xiaolongnu's fair skin was so close, yet Yang Guo, that little beast, intercepted her halfway.

Not only did they not get any meat, but they also became the opponent's Achilles' heel.

With just a word from Yang Guo, Yin Zhiping would be utterly disgraced and torn to pieces by the entire Quanzhen Sect. Whenever he thought of this, a chill ran down his spine, and he couldn't even sleep peacefully.

Seek help from the Seven Immortals of Quanzhen? Ma Yu is seriously ill, Qiu Chuji now cherishes Yang Guo, and Wang Chuyi is stubborn and inflexible. If they knew about his wicked thoughts towards Xiaolongnü, they would not only refuse to help, but would also personally take action to clean house.

There was nowhere else to go. The only option was to seek outside help.

Huo Du had hidden agents at the foot of the mountain. Zhao Zhijing had taken him to see this once before.

Seeking help from the Mongols would be a capital offense of betraying one's master and ancestors. But at the moment, there was no time to worry about that. As long as Yang Guo could be killed and his own life saved, it didn't matter who he sided with.

It was midnight. Yin Zhiping changed into a gray cloth outfit, covered his head and face with a black cloth, and quietly slipped out of Chongyang Palace.

He avoided the disciples on night patrol and hurried along the path behind the mountain. The night wind rustled through the trees, and he walked with trepidation, fearing that someone might jump out of the bushes.

As the dignified third-generation leader of the Quanzhen Sect, he was now forced to betray his sect and serve a foreign tribe like a thief. This humiliation made him grit his teeth. As long as Yang Guo was eliminated, as long as he could survive, he would accept being a dog of the Mongols.

We arrived at the town at the foot of the mountain. The streets were deserted, with only the distant barking of dogs.

There is a shop at the crossroads with a sign that reads "Xinghuacun" liquor.

Yin Zhiping walked to the door, raised his hand but stopped mid-air, his breathing quickening. Once he knocked on this door, there was no turning back. He gritted his teeth, reached out and knocked three times on the door, paused for a moment, then knocked twice more.

The door creaked open a crack. A waiter poked his head out.

The waiter carried a lantern, and its dim yellow light shone on Yin Zhiping's face, which was covered by a black cloth.

"Sir, we're closed for the day. Please come back tomorrow if you want to buy wine," the waiter said.

"I want to buy strong liquor from beyond the Great Wall, liquor that has been loaded onto horseback." Yin Zhiping gave the code, his palms sweating profusely.

The waiter looked Yin Zhiping up and down, his eyes darting around.

"Please come in, sir. The owner has been waiting in the backyard for quite some time." The waiter stepped aside to make way for them.

Yin Zhiping stepped inside. A waiter led the way, passing through the front hall and arriving at the back courtyard.

The lights were on in the main house in the backyard.

Yin Zhiping pushed open the door and entered, his nose catching the pungent smell of strong liquor.

Inside the room was a square table. A person stood with their back to the door, holding a wine cup, pouring themselves a drink.

Yin Zhiping assumed this man was Huo Du's confidant, so he quickly lowered his voice and showed utmost sincerity.

"Is Prince Huodu here? I am Yin Zhiping of the Quanzhen Sect. I have important matters to discuss with you." Yin Zhiping bowed deeply.

The man put down his wine glass and slowly turned around.

The light illuminated the man's face.

Yin Zhiping gasped, his legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to the ground. He rubbed his eyes, staring intently at the features of the person in front of him, hoping he was just seeing things.

"Zhao... Senior Brother Zhao?" Yin Zhiping's voice trembled as he pointed at the man.

Sitting at the table was Zhao Zhijing, whose Qi Sea had been destroyed and who had been expelled from the Quanzhen Sect by Wang Chuyi.

Zhao Zhijing, dressed in a brocade robe, with a ruddy complexion, sat upright in a chair, showing no sign of the dejected state that comes with the loss of all his martial arts skills.

"Junior Brother Yin, how have you been? Since we parted at Chongyang Palace, I've been longing to see you again day and night." Zhao Zhijing said with a forced smile, drawing out his words, his eyes revealing undisguised resentment.

Yin Zhiping's mind was in complete chaos, with only one thought remaining: This is absolutely impossible.

He had witnessed Wang Chuyi's sword strike firsthand. It pierced through the dantian and destroyed the qi sea. Such a severe injury, even with miraculous medicine to save his life, would make it impossible for him to stand again, let alone be so energetic. Zhao Zhijing should be begging down the mountain, how come he's sitting here comfortably drinking?

"You... how did you get here? Weren't you expelled from Zhongnan Mountain?" Yin Zhiping stammered, involuntarily taking a half-step back.

Zhao Zhijing stood up, walked over to Yin Zhiping, and circled him. Seeing Yin Zhiping's pathetic state, he felt completely relieved, and the resentment that had been building up for days finally found an outlet.

"What? Disappointed that I didn't die in the wilderness, Junior Brother?" Zhao Zhijing sneered, his gaze fixed on Yin Zhiping. "That day in the main hall of Chongyang Palace, I risked my life to serve Prince Huo Du for our bright future. And you? You hid in the crowd, not daring to utter a single word!"

Zhao Zhijing's voice grew louder and louder as he spoke, his finger poking directly at Yin Zhiping's nose, as if he wanted to tear him apart.

"We were sworn brothers! We agreed to attack together and take down the Quanzhen Sect. But when the time came, you became a coward. You watched as that old bastard Wang Chuyi crippled my martial arts, watched as I was thrown down the mountain like a dead dog. Yin Zhiping, you really pulled a clever plan!"

Yin Zhiping was red-faced with embarrassment, his sore spot exposed. He hurriedly waved his hands, trying to explain, "Senior Brother Zhao, you've misunderstood. That day, Yang Guo's martial arts were superb; even Prince Huo Du was no match for him. If I had stood with you, we would both have been wiped out. I stayed on the mountain to preserve myself, so I could find a way to save you later!"

He spoke eloquently, but deep down he was uneasy and just wanted to cover it up.

"Bullshit!" Zhao Zhijing spat on Yin Zhiping's face.

Yin Zhiping was deeply humiliated and his anger surged to his head. He raised his hand to wipe it away, but Zhao Zhijing grabbed his wrist.

"Preserve your usefulness? You want to climb up by stepping on my dead body!" Zhao Zhijing gritted his teeth, increasing the force in his hand.

"You think no one knows your filthy thoughts? You put on this virtuous gentleman's facade all day, but behind his back you're eyeing that slut surnamed Long in the Ancient Tomb. And what happened? Your good disciple Yang Guo beat you to it! You didn't even get to hold a woman's hand, and you've gotten yourself into all this trouble!"

Zhao Zhijing's words were like daggers, piercing Yin Zhiping's sore spot. Yin Zhiping's eyes twitched when he heard the names of Xiaolongnu and Yang Guo; they were the greatest hatred of his life.

He hated Yang Guo for taking away his love, and he hated Xiaolongnu even more for preferring to hang out with some young boy rather than give him a second glance.

"You came down the mountain today, did you hear that the Quanzhen Sect is going to hold the Tongtian Tournament? Are you afraid that Yang Guo will win and become the sect leader, and then he'll turn around and kill you?"

Zhao Zhijing burst into laughter, his voice particularly jarring in the night, full of mockery. "You don't have the guts to fight Yang Guo, so you come to Prince Huo Du to wag your tail and beg for mercy. Yin Zhiping, you want to be a prostitute and also have a virtuous reputation? You think you can have all the good things in the world?"

Yin Zhiping's true colors were exposed, his fig leaf torn to shreds, and he was furious with shame and embarrassment.

"Zhao Zhijing, shut up!" Yin Zhiping forcefully broke free of his wrist and took two steps back.

Looking at Zhao Zhijing's arrogant face, he grew increasingly emboldened. "You, a useless person expelled from the sect, what right do you have to lecture me? I'm here to see Prince Huo Du today, get out of my way!"

Yin Zhiping had calculated clearly in his mind that Zhao Zhijing's Qi Sea was broken, and even if he looked fine now, he had no internal energy left. Yin Zhiping, on the other hand, still had several decades of Quanzhen cultivation. As long as he could subdue this cripple and force him to reveal Huo Du's whereabouts, he could still accomplish his goal.

"A cripple?" Zhao Zhijing narrowed his eyes, his lips curled in disdain. "You're welcome to try and see who's the real cripple."

Without another word, Yin Zhiping drew his long sword from his waist. Since the pretense of civility had been severed, there was no room for mercy.

A flash of sword light appeared, and a move called "Parting Flowers and Sweeping Willows" aimed straight for Zhao Zhijing's throat. This sword strike used the full power of Quanzhen internal energy, ruthless and decisive, clearly intended to kill and silence him. He was confident that with this strike, Zhao Zhijing would surely die on the spot.

Zhao Zhijing stood still until the tip of the sword was three inches in front of him.

He raised his right hand, joined his index and middle fingers together, aimed at the sword's momentum, and flicked it forcefully along the spine.

"when!"

A crisp sound.

Yin Zhiping felt an extremely cold and domineering force travel through the sword. His hand trembled violently, his entire right arm went numb and sore, and he lost his grip on the sword, which flew out of his hand and became firmly embedded in the beam next to him.

This force was completely different from the balanced and peaceful nature of the Quanzhen School, and it exuded an inexplicable evil aura.

Yin Zhiping was shocked, his eyes wide open, unable to understand how someone whose Qi Sea had been destroyed could possess such terrifying power.

Before he could figure it out, Zhao Zhijing had already pounced on him.

Zhao Zhijing transformed his fingers into a palm and struck Yin Zhiping's chest. The palm wind howled, carrying with it a strong, fishy stench.

With no way to avoid it, Yin Zhiping could only hastily raise his arms to cross and block.

"Bang!"

The two men's arms crossed. Yin Zhiping felt as if the bones in his arms were about to break, his internal organs churning, and he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the octagonal table. The table shattered into pieces, splinters flying everywhere.

Yin Zhiping fell to the ground, felt a sweet taste in his throat, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

He clutched his chest, his face filled with terror as he watched Zhao Zhijing approach step by step. The instinct for survival overwhelmed all pride; he pushed off the ground with his legs and desperately tried to shrink back.

"You...your martial arts..." Yin Zhiping's voice trembled, and his teeth chattered.

Zhao Zhijing walked up to Yin Zhiping and stepped on his chest. He pressed down hard, making Yin Zhiping gasp for breath.

Zhao Zhijing's feet crushed Yin Zhiping's ribs, and as he listened to the cracking sounds of the bones breaking under the weight, his face was full of pleasure.

"Junior Brother Yin, didn't you just try to kill me? How come you, a highly respected disciple of the Quanzhen Sect, couldn't even withstand a single move from a cripple like me?"

Zhao Zhijing reveled in the pleasure of tormenting his former fellow disciples, looking down at his defeated opponent on the ground. "A spineless coward like you dares to negotiate with me?"

Yin Zhiping was in so much pain that he broke out in a cold sweat. It felt as if a huge boulder was pressing on his chest, and even his breath smelled of blood. He gripped Zhao Zhijing's ankles tightly with both hands, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pry them apart.

"Senior Brother Zhao... have mercy... I was wrong..." Yin Zhiping completely abandoned his dignity and begged for mercy. As long as he could live, he didn't care about being treated like a slave. "For the sake of our past relationship, spare me. I'm willing to do whatever you say."

"Affection? What affection is there between us?" Zhao Zhijing sneered, increasing the pressure of his foot on the ground, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. "Today I'll send you to meet the King of Hell, my dear junior brother!"