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

Yang Guo stood on the ninth-floor platform, casually tossing the advancement plaque high into the air before catching it. From his vantage point, his gaze was fixed on Yin Zhiping at the edge of the eighth floor.

"Master, what are you dawdling about down there for?" Yang Guo shouted at the top of his lungs, his hands tucked into his sleeves. "I've been up here for ages and haven't even had a sip of hot tea. If you're afraid of this Big Dipper Formation, just kowtow down there and admit defeat, and I'll pretend I didn't see it."

The crowd below erupted in uproar. It was truly rare for a disciple to humiliate his master in public like this.

Yin Zhiping stood before the wooden stairs leading to the eighth floor. Hearing these words, he felt as if his internal organs were on fire. But he valued his reputation highly and would never lose the dignity of a chief disciple in front of such a large group of heroes.

He suppressed his surging emotions, turned to face the audience, draped his whisk over his arm, and let out a long sigh.

"Fellow practitioners, my unworthy disciple is unruly and speaks rudely, I apologize for making a fool of myself." Yin Zhiping's tone was gentle, yet it revealed a sense of grievance born of forbearance. "I will now go up on stage and teach him the meaning of respecting one's teacher and valuing the Way."

After saying that, Yin Zhiping turned around and went up the steps.

On the eighth arena, Sun Bu'er had already received a brand-new longsword from the disciple beside him. The Seven Masters of Quanzhen took their positions again, and the Big Dipper Formation began to operate once more.

Yin Zhiping stepped onto the wooden platform and walked to the front of the formation. He bowed respectfully.

"Disciple Yin Zhiping requests guidance from all senior disciples."

Qiu Chuji's face was as still as water, and he held his long sword horizontally.

"Zhiping, enter the battle. Show me the true skills of the top disciple of Quanzhen, and don't let the heroes of the world underestimate the martial arts of my sect."

Yin Zhiping straightened up, lightly touched the wooden planks with his toes, and floated into the formation. He was determined to use the most authentic Quanzhen martial arts to break the formation, thus proving to the world that he was the rightful successor to the sect leader.

Yin Zhiping brandished his whisk, employing the "Frost-Treading, Ice-Breaking Palm" technique of the Quanzhen Sect, channeling his inner strength into the whisk. Thousands of silver threads transformed into steel needles, meeting Wang Chuyi's thrusting longsword.

The two men clashed, producing a series of rapid impacts.

Yin Zhiping thought that with his secretly cultivated skills, he could easily handle the situation even without using the dark red true energy. But he was sorely mistaken. The Big Dipper Formation was the essence of Grandmaster Chongyang's martial arts, with the seven members' internal energy flowing endlessly, and a single movement affecting the entire formation.

He had just parried Wang Chuyi's longsword when Hao Datong's sword attack came from his side and rear. He hurriedly twisted to dodge, but Sun Bu'er's sword tip had already grazed the hem of his Taoist robe, tearing a large piece of fabric.

After only twenty or so moves, Yin Zhiping was forced into a perilous situation. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his breathing became erratic. His usually proud agility appeared extremely clumsy and awkward amidst the dense network of swords.

The female disciples from the Emei and Diancang sects below the stage, seeing that Yin Zhiping was at a disadvantage, did not look down on him. Instead, they stomped their feet in distress.

"Master Yin is showing deference to his elders!" the round-faced Emei female disciple shouted. "Look at him, he's playing defensively at every turn, unwilling to use any lethal moves. This is true respect for his master; he'd rather suffer a loss himself than harm his senior brothers!"

The female disciple of the Diancang Sect chimed in, "That's right! Unlike Yang Guo, who was ruthless and even dared to break our master's sword. Master Yin is so benevolent and righteous; he's a true gentleman. Keep it up, Master Yin!"

Lu Wushuang stood in the front row, holding a willow-leaf dagger in her hand, looking up at the stage.

"Master Yin, stop holding back! For the sake of the Quanzhen Sect's foundation, show your true skills and break the formation! Go up and knock that lecherous scoundrel down!" Lu Wushuang shouted at the top of her lungs. She hated Yang Guo to the extreme and couldn't wait for Yin Zhiping to go up and deal with that scoundrel.

Yang Guo stood on the edge of the ninth floor. He could hear the shouts of the women below clearly. He grinned, revealing his white teeth, and laughed arrogantly.

He leaned over the wooden railing, cupped his hands into a megaphone shape, and shouted loudly down below.

"Hey! Ladies, are you blind or something? That's not what you call being considerate of your elders! He was beaten so badly he didn't even have the strength to fight back!"

Yang Guo pointed at Yin Zhiping, who was in a sorry state in the midst of the battle, and began his on-site commentary.

"Master, your 'Wind Sweeping Leaves' move is too outdated! Right, right, Grandmaster Qiu's sword is going to slice off your ear! Ouch, that was such an ugly dodge, you looked like a big toad!"

"Master, why is your lower body so weak? Your steps are so unsteady. Did you drink too much fake alcohol in Xinghua Village last night? If you really can't hold on, quickly call for help! Your disciple will come down and pull you up!"

Yang Guo's words were extremely malicious, each one aimed at Yin Zhiping's sore spots.

Hearing Yang Guo's taunts from within the formation, Yin Zhiping felt his blood rush to his head. His face turned purple, and his eyes became bloodshot. He was already narrow-minded, and he couldn't bear such public humiliation.

His mind went blank, and his footwork became completely chaotic. Li Zhichang seized the opportunity and thrust his longsword straight at Yin Zhiping's right shoulder. Yin Zhiping was shocked and hurriedly tried to use his whisk to wind up the blade, but Song Daoan deflected the whisk with a swift stroke from the side.

With a hissing sound.

Li Zhichang's sword tip tore through Yin Zhiping's right shoulder of his Taoist robe, leaving a shallow bloodstain.

Yin Zhiping stumbled back three steps, nearly falling. His chest heaved violently, his fingers gripping the wooden handle of the whisk so tightly that his nails almost dug into the wood.

He was filled with hatred. These stubborn old fogies showed him no mercy, despite him being their chief disciple, insisting on making him lose face in front of all the heroes of the world.

He secretly channeled the dark red true energy within his dantian. That eerie power slowly rose along his meridians, bringing with it an extremely strong sense of power.

"In order to prevent the legacy of Patriarch Chongyang from falling into the hands of a demon like Yang Guo, I have no choice but to do something extraordinary today. You all forced me to do this." Yin Zhiping prepared a high-sounding excuse for himself and prepared to use his shady poisonous skills to forcibly break the formation.

Just as Yin Zhiping was about to launch his attack.

Wang Chuyi, positioned at the Tianxuan level, took in Yin Zhiping's predicament. He glanced at Yang Guo on the ninth floor above him out of the corner of his eye, feeling extremely anxious.

If Yin Zhiping is defeated today and cannot even reach the ninth level, then Yang Guo will be the ultimate victor of this Heavenly Arena. Yang Guo is eccentric, ruthless towards his fellow disciples, and entangled with the Ancient Tomb Sect. The Quanzhen Sect's century-old foundation must not be handed over to such a person.

Wang Chuyi gritted his teeth. For the sake of the Quanzhen Sect, he had no choice but to compromise the dignity of the formation.

He turned his head and met the gaze of Sun Bu'er, who held the position of Tianquan. The two had been fellow disciples for decades, and could understand each other's thoughts with just a glance. Sun Bu'er had just been humiliated by Yang Guo and hated him to the core, so naturally she did not want to see Yang Guo ascend to the position of sect leader.

Sun Bu'er nodded almost imperceptibly.

The formation shifted once more.

Just as Yin Zhiping was about to activate his poison technique, he suddenly noticed that when Wang Chuyi and Sun Bu'er in front of him were exchanging positions, their footwork slowed down by half a beat at the same time.

This slight delay, in the eyes of a top expert, is a huge opening. Between the two longswords, a gap large enough for a person to pass through was revealed.

Yin Zhiping had sharp eyes. Although he didn't know why the two had suddenly revealed such a flaw, he would never let go of such a golden opportunity. He quickly suppressed the dark red true energy back into his dantian to avoid exposing his true strength.

He shouted and leaped forward. He split his whisk to the left and right, landing precisely on the spines of Wang Chuyi and Sun Bu'er's swords, using the momentum to jump.

He passed through the gap and landed steadily beside the wooden pillar outside the formation.

Yin Zhiping reached out and took the advancement plaque from the pillar. He turned around, feigning exhaustion and panting. He placed his whisk in his left hand, made a hand seal with his right, and bowed deeply to the Seven Masters of Quanzhen.

"Thank you all, my senior uncles and elders, for showing mercy and instructing me in martial arts. I have learned a great deal."

Wang Chuyi sheathed his longsword and replied expressionlessly, "Your first disciple's martial arts have improved; you've passed the test. Go on."

When the crowd below saw Yin Zhiping successfully break through the formation, they erupted in thunderous cheers.

Those martial arts practitioners with mediocre skills couldn't see the subtle changes in the formation's operation; they simply assumed that Yin Zhiping was highly skilled and had seized upon the flaw.

The female disciples from Emei and Diancang cheered and jumped for joy, their cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Master Yin has won! I knew he could break the formation!"

"Look at how humble he is, thanking his elders for their guidance even after winning. Such magnanimity is truly a model for us all!"

Lu Wushuang raised his curved sword and shouted at the platform, "Master Yin, hurry up to the ninth level! Go and expose that wicked Taoist's true colors, and cleanse the Quanzhen Sect of its corruption!"

On the viewing platform.

Ma Yu sat in the grand chair and suddenly burst into a violent cough. He coughed so hard that it was heart-wrenching, and the young Taoist priest next to him hurriedly stepped forward to pat his back.

Ma Yu's deep-set eyes were filled with sorrow. Though he had lost his martial arts skills, his eyesight was still exceptional; how could he not see that Wang Chuyi and Sun Bu'er were deliberately holding back? The Quanzhen Sect, which claimed to be the orthodox school of Taoism, was now openly cheating in front of all the heroes of the world for the position of sect leader.

He opened his mouth, wanting to reprimand, but a sharp pain in his lungs caused him to let out a long, heavy sigh. He was too old to manage. For the sake of the sect's stability, he could only choose to remain silent.

Huang Rong sat upright in the large chair. She had seen the entire process of breaking the formation clearly.

She put down her teacup and let out an undisguised sneer.

Her heart was filled with contempt. These old Taoist priests, always spouting benevolence and morality, with rules as paramount. But when it comes to their own power, they'll throw away all shame. Deliberately leaving such a huge opening—do they really think everyone in the world is blind?

She glanced at the cheering, foolish women below the stage, a cold laugh escaping her lips. These brainless fools, being sold out and still counting the money for the seller. They worship a hypocritical, pretentious scoundrel like a god, while degrading their own invincible, genuine man to the ground.

Huang Rong touched the Dog-Beating Stick beside her. She had initially wanted to expose this farce on the spot, but then she thought that she was, after all, a guest. If she were to make a scene now, the Beggars' Sect and the Quanzhen Sect would completely break off their relationship.

She raised her head and looked at Yang Guo on the ninth-floor platform. She had complete confidence in her man.

"Guo'er, these old Taoist priests are shameless. You should loosen their skin and expose their true colors. Let the world see what kind of person they really are," Huang Rong thought to herself.

Yin Zhiping gripped the wooden sign and turned to walk towards the wooden stairs leading to the ninth floor.

He climbed step by step, and with each step he took, his confidence grew stronger. He had already passed the eighth level, and as long as he could rightfully defeat Yang Guo on the ninth level, his position as sect leader would be as secure as Mount Tai.

He stepped onto the wide wooden platform on the ninth floor.

The wind was strong at a high altitude, causing their clothes to flutter loudly.

Yang Guo crossed his arms and leaned against a thick wooden pillar at the edge of the arena. He looked at Yin Zhiping as he walked up, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Master, your footwork is truly excellent." Yang Guo's opening remarks were full of barbs and sarcasm. "The way our grandmasters have opened up the formation is enough to flood the town at the foot of Zhongnan Mountain. The gaps in the formation are so wide that not only can a person pass through, but even a carriage with eight horses can run through side by side. Your ability to break through formations is truly awe-inspiring."

Yin Zhiping stood still in the center of the stage. His expression remained unchanged, and he lightly swept his whisk in front of him, adopting the dignified posture of an elder.

"Guo'er, stop talking nonsense. The Big Dipper Formation is the great protective formation of our sect. Our senior uncles and elders are using all their strength. How can you say they are holding back?" Yin Zhiping's tone was calm, but his voice carried throughout the entire area with his internal energy. "You are slandering your elders and the Quanzhen Sword Technique. This is simply outrageous."

He would never respond to Yang Guo's words, but instead used righteousness to pressure him.

"You have been my disciple since childhood. I have taught you with all my heart, hoping that you would become a talent. However, you have been secretly practicing demonic arts behind my back, behaving strangely, and harming your fellow disciples. Today, you have even more audaciously insulted the ancestors of the Quanzhen Sect."

Yin Zhiping took a step forward, his eyes filled with extreme heartache.

"Your actions are intolerable to Heaven. I stand here today not to vie for the position of sect leader, but to cleanse the Quanzhen Sect of its corruption and restore order to the martial world!"

Yang Guo felt a wave of nausea wash over him as he listened to this high-sounding rhetoric. He straightened up, drew his longsword from his waist, and casually twirled it.

"Master, with your tongue, it's a waste that you're not a storyteller in a teahouse. You can turn black into white, and the dead into the living." Yang Guo pointed his sword at Yin Zhiping, his tone extremely contemptuous. "You keep accusing me of practicing demonic magic and harming my fellow disciples. Can you produce any evidence? Your useless disciples were harassing girls in the back mountains, and I broke their swords. Is that harming fellow disciples?"

Yang Guo took two steps forward.

"You deserve to be called a disciple! Your heart is full of wicked schemes and debauchery. Do you really think no one knows about the countless shameful deeds you've done behind the scenes?" Yang Guo shouted. "You forced Wang Qingchen and the others to take poison, making them go down the mountain to spread rumors about me. You secretly colluded with the Mongols, trying to sell Chongyang Palace to Huo Du. You, a scumbag, dare to mention Patriarch Chongyang?"

These words caused another uproar among the crowd.

Yin Zhiping's heart skipped a beat, and his back was instantly soaked with cold sweat. But he tried his best to calm himself down, determined not to reveal any weakness at this moment.

"Nonsense!" Yin Zhiping roared angrily, pointing his whisk directly at Yang Guo. "You're about to die, yet you still dare to frame your master like this! I cannot let you live today!"

Yang Guo brandished his longsword, and the blade emitted a clear, melodious dragon's roar.

"Whether you live or die isn't up to your fancy words," Yang Guo raised his voice, all traces of his former cynicism gone. "Draw your sword. Let me see just how capable you, this traitor who sold out his country, really are!"