One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

After a few seconds of pause.

The audience erupted in cheers.

"Match fixed! This is absolutely a fixed match!"

"Refund! I want a refund! Are you treating us like idiots?"

"Three people! Three skilled fighters! How could they be sent flying by a single slap? And still hanging on the wall?"

"Wire work! They definitely used wires! Has the Celestial Master's Mansion lost all shame just to promote their own janitor?"

Countless insults and doubts surged towards the center of the venue like a tsunami.

Some emotionally charged spectators even threw their water bottles, snack bags, and even half-eaten cucumbers into the arena.

"A cover-up! A cover-up!"

"The Celestial Master's Mansion must provide an explanation!"

The trash flew everywhere and fell like raindrops.

The referee, a Taoist priest, stood at the edge of the field, completely dumbfounded.

He held the small flag used to announce the results, unsure whether to raise it or put it down, his face displaying a variety of expressions.

He spent decades at Longhu Mountain, and presided over at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, martial arts competitions of all sizes.

But this is the first time I've seen a situation like today, where winning the game almost sparked a riot.

Zhang Taichu, who was at the center of the storm, seemed to be isolated from the world.

He didn't even lift an eyelid in the face of the overwhelming insults and flying debris around him.

Snapped.

A half-empty Coke bottle spun and flew toward his forehead.

Just as the impact was about to hit, Zhang Taichu slightly turned his head.

The bottle of cola flew past his ear, spilling its brown liquid all over the floor, but not a single drop landed on his Taoist robe.

Zhang Taichu extended his little finger, slowly and deliberately picked at his ear, and then blew on his finger.

"Tsk."

He frowned, glancing with some disdain at the boisterous stands around him:

"It's so noisy."

"Hey, old Taoist priest over there."

Zhang Taichu turned around, looked at the judge who was completely dumbfounded, and pointed to the three human-shaped murals embedded in the wall:

"Isn't that enough? I'm starving."

The referee opened his mouth, making a "hoho" sound in his throat, but couldn't utter a complete sentence for a long time.

Just when the situation was about to get out of control.

Whoosh!

A figure suddenly leaped up from the referee's stand, like a roc spreading its wings, and landed steadily on the edge of the field.

This is Rong Shan, a middle-aged Taoist priest dressed in a purple robe with a dignified face. He is one of the high-ranking Taoist priests in charge of maintaining order at this Luo Tian Grand Ritual.

"quiet!"

Rongshan shouted loudly.

The sound was imbued with a powerful energy, like a resounding bell, booming in everyone's ears.

The once noisy and chaotic training ground instantly became much quieter.

Those audience members who were still shouting about "behind-the-scenes manipulation" felt their ears ringing, and they covered their heads, forced to shut their mouths.

Rongshan ignored the audience's reaction.

He walked quickly to the bluestone wall.

Rong Shan's pupils contracted sharply as he looked at the three figures deeply embedded in the wall, like mosaics.

He reached out and carefully placed his hand on Zhao Dalong's neck.

The instant your fingertips touch your skin.

A very faint yet still wildly vibrating force traveled through Rong Shan's fingers.

sizzle...

Rongshan's fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

"this……"

Rong Shan abruptly withdrew his hand, his face turning deathly pale instantly.

He turned his head and glanced at Zhang Taichu, who was still idly picking at his nails not far away, a look of horror flashing deep in his eyes.

As a high-ranking priest of the Celestial Master's Mansion, his eyesight was naturally far superior to that of ordinary spectators.

How could this be considered a fixed match?

The protective Qi within Zhao Dalong and the others did not dissipate on its own.

Instead, it was shattered the moment it made contact with an extremely domineering and tyrannical force!

After shattering their defenses, the force precisely avoided vital points, only causing their meridians to become numb and tingling, instantly rendering them unconscious.

If that force were to deviate even by an inch...

These three people have now turned into three lumps of minced meat!

"Junior brother..."

Rong Shan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked at the referee beside him, his voice somewhat hoarse:

"Announce the results."

The referee, a Taoist priest, paused for a moment, then asked hesitantly:

"But Senior Brother Rongshan, the audience's emotions..."

"I said, announce the results!"

Rong Shan suddenly turned his head, his eyes stern:

"These three people are already ruined! If they aren't sent for treatment soon, things will really get really serious!"

The referee was startled.

He quickly raised the flag in his hand and shouted in a somewhat flustered manner:

"The winner of Group B, White Tiger – Zhang Chu!"

With this announcement.

The boos that had been suppressed in the stands began to rise again.

"That's the verdict?"

"An explanation? Don't you need to explain?"

however.

Just then.

Zhang Taichu made a move.

He brushed off non-existent dust from his hands, turned around, and did not head towards the players' tunnel.

Instead, he raised his head, his gaze passing over the layers of stands, and looked directly at the VIP seats at the very top.

Those sitting there are all true big shots in the world of supernatural beings.

The Ten Elders, the leaders of various sects, and those renowned seniors.

Zhang Taichu's gaze was calm, even somewhat lazy.

But the moment he looked over.

The bigwigs who had been whispering and discussing amongst themselves all subconsciously stopped what they were doing.

That feeling.

It was as if I had been casually glanced at by an ancient, ferocious beast that was dozing off.

A corner of the VIP seating area.

Feng Zhenghao of the Tianxia Society, whose hand was holding a teacup, froze slightly in mid-air.

He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, the lenses reflecting a cold light.

"Father?"

Sitting next to him, Feng Xingtong looked on blankly at the chaos below:

"What exactly happened? Did that Taoist priest really cheat?"

"I think that Master Rongshan seems very nervous."

Feng Zhenghao put down his teacup but did not answer directly.

He watched the figure in the tattered Taoist robe slowly walking back from the sidelines, and a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

"Xing Tong."

Feng Zhenghao's voice was low, carrying a seriousness rarely seen in his daily life:

"Look at that pit."

Feng Xingtong followed her father's gaze.

"A crater? Wasn't that created by those three guys?"

"No."

Feng Zhenghao shook his head:

"Take a close look at the cracks around the wall."

"Those cracks are not spreading outwards, but contracting inwards."

Feng Xingtong squinted and examined it carefully for a long time, then suddenly gasped:

"Seriously! This...this defies the laws of physics!"

"If it were from an impact, the crack should have exploded!"

Feng Zhenghao nodded, his gaze growing even deeper:

"That's the difference."

"If it's about using the burst of Qi to send someone flying, then that's indeed impossible."

"But if..."

Feng Zhenghao paused, his tone turning somewhat sinister:

"What if he didn't use Qi at all, but simply relied on his control over the momentum to instantly compress the surrounding space and then bounce it back?"

"What?!"

Feng Xingtong's eyes widened in disbelief:

"This...how is this possible? Isn't that a legendary technique?"

So,

Feng Zhenghao picked up his teacup again, looking at the tea swirling slightly within:

"This is absolutely not a fixed match."

"On the contrary."

"This is because the gap between the two sides is so large that even skills, combos, and even resistance become meaningless."

"In the face of that slap."

"Those three so-called martial arts masters are no different from three flies."

At this point, Feng Zhenghao turned his head and looked at the old master sitting in the main seat, still calmly resting with his eyes closed.

"It seems this grand Taoist ritual..."

Feng Zhenghao chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with the shrewdness and calculation of a businessman:

"The Celestial Master's Mansion has prepared a wonderful surprise for us."

"Zhang Chuyao..."

"Go check."

Feng Zhenghao whispered instructions to his secretary behind him:

"No matter the cost, I want all the information about this person."

"If it can't be found..."

He glanced at the figure that was about to disappear into the passageway:

"Then find out everything about his whereabouts during these past few days at the Celestial Master's Mansion, what he ate, what he drank, and even how many sheets of toilet paper he used."

At this moment, on the training ground...

With Zhang Taichu's departure, the invisible pressure that had been weighing on everyone's hearts seemed to dissipate as well.

The insults continued, but they were clearly less forceful.

Rongshan directed several young Taoist disciples to frantically pry the three people embedded in the wall out, then carried them onto stretchers and hurriedly left.

And in the shadows of the players' tunnel.

Zhang Taichu stopped in his tracks.

He did not turn around.

He simply took out the half-eaten sesame seed cake from his pocket and blew away the dust that was stuck to it with a bit of heartache.

"What a pity."

Zhang Taichu took a bite of the sesame seed cake and mumbled indistinctly:

"That slap was too early."

"If we wait until they're right in front of us before we make our move..."

"Maybe I can heat up this sesame seed cake while I'm at it."