Physical immortality begins with Bajiquan

Chapter 66 Broken Bones

The entire training ground fell silent instantly.

All the disciples stood frozen in place, speechless, their complex gazes fixed on Qin Tianbao's mutilated body. Everyone remembered his past glory: third on the martial arts examination list, born with superior physique, the prospective son-in-law of the Huang family, one of the five great families, his master's most prized disciple, and a role model for many disciples.

But seeing him like this now, the contrast is so stark it makes one's heart sink.

"Qin Tianbao!"

A deep, cold voice suddenly rang out from the training ground. The voice was not loud, but it was filled with a chilling aura. Each word was enunciated clearly: "You dare to come back."

The deathly silence was abruptly broken by this cold shout, and everyone was shocked, instinctively looking in the direction of the sound.

Xu Feng's face was as cold as frost. He looked straight ahead, completely ignoring the gazes of others, and walked steadily towards Qin Tianbao step by step.

The disciples in front of them silently stepped aside, no one spoke up to dissuade them, and no one stepped forward to stop them. Everyone knew about the feud between the two: the hatred of being publicly disqualified in the martial arts exam and the resentment of having their engagement taken away. With such a feud, who else had the right to step forward and offer advice?

In the blink of an eye, Xu Feng stood in front of Qin Tianbao.

Both men have lost their right arms and now only have their left arms usable. Their injuries are similar, but the reasons and circumstances are different, and their grudges are hard to settle.

Xu Feng stared intently at Qin Tianbao, who remained hunched over and dared not raise his head. His resentment surged within him, and he was unwilling to utter a single unnecessary word.

His left arm suddenly clenched into a fist, filled with the pent-up anger of many days, and he slammed it straight at Qin Tianbao's chest.

"Bang!"

The dull thud of the impact was particularly jarring in the deathly silent training ground.

Qin Tianbao's thin body swayed suddenly, the manure scoop fell from his hand, a metallic taste rose in his throat, and his shoulders trembled slightly.

"Why didn't you dodge? Raise your head! We're both crippled now, let's fight each other fair and square one more time!"

Xu Feng's face was ashen, every word he uttered was chillingly cold, and his gaze was like a knife, fixed on Qin Tianbao.

Qin Tianbao did not respond immediately. Instead, he slowly bent down, picked up the manure scoop that had fallen to the ground, held it tightly in his palm, lowered his head, and dared not look Xu Feng in the eye.

After a long pause, he slowly spoke, his voice hoarse and low: "Young Master Xu is joking. I am now just a servant in the Huang family, sweeping and cleaning the floor. How could a servant dare to lay a hand on his master?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he didn't hesitate for a moment. He bent his knees and slammed them heavily onto the hard bluestone slab.

The dull thud was even more piercing to the eardrums than the sound of the punch earlier.

No matter how straight he stood after that, it was no use. This one kneel crushed all his pride, all his glory, and everything that had made countless people look up to him into the mud under his feet, mixed with the filth in the dung scoop, and could never be picked up again.

The entire audience of disciples was completely silent; some turned their faces away, unable to bear watching any longer.

Xu Feng's clenched fists cracked, and the anger in his eyes froze instantly, replaced by an indescribable emptiness.

What kind of feeling was that? His enemy, whom he hated so much he wanted to tear him apart, had now killed him first.

He stood there, motionless, staring intently at Qin Tianbao kneeling on the ground, as if trying to see right through him. The only sounds in the entire training ground were his heavy breathing and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

No one dared to speak, and no one dared to step forward.

Senior Brother Zhang Mingyuan frowned, wanting to step forward several times, but ultimately stopped. He knew Xu Feng too well, knowing that at this point, any persuasion would be futile.

Fifth Senior Brother Li Yiping gritted his teeth, his face filled with complex emotions. He wanted to curse Qin Tianbao for deserving it, but the words wouldn't come out.

Qin Heng pursed his lips almost imperceptibly. He had chosen his own path, and now that he had come to this point, who could he blame?

Just as the atmosphere in the room reached its lowest point, a sigh slowly came from behind.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Mo Guangren standing with his hands behind his back, slowly walking into the arena. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a hint of heartache and self-blame, as well as a trace of regret for his lack of progress.

"What are you all doing gathered here? Disperse and go back to practice your skills. Don't waste your time on trivial matters and neglect your cultivation."

Mo Guangren slowly swept his gaze over the disciples who were standing around watching, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

The disciples dared not say a word, bowed their heads, and quietly dispersed.

In a short while, the huge courtyard in front of the martial arts hall was empty, leaving only Zhang Mingyuan, Li Yiping, Qin Heng, Xu Feng who was in turmoil, and Qin Tianbao who was still kneeling on the ground with his head down and silent.

Mo Guangren walked slowly between Xu Feng and Qin Tianbao, his steps light and unhurried.

He remained standing with his hands behind his back, exuding a calm and composed aura. He did not utter a single word, but his gaze slowly shifted between the two of them.

A gentle breeze from early summer blew by, lifting the tattered hem of Qin Tianbao's clothes to reveal the hideous scar on his left arm and the missing part of his right arm.

Xu Feng's fists, hanging by his sides, were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white and the veins bulged, but he didn't move them once more.

Zhang Mingyuan and Li Yiping stood to the side with their hands at their sides, not daring to breathe, silently watching the two.

Qin Heng stood quietly in the corner, his expression calm, his fingers slightly clenched, but his face remained expressionless.

Mo Guangren remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking, his voice low and hoarse, filled with undisguised heaviness and self-reproach: "It is my fault as a disciple that failed to restrain Tianbao's temperament and protect you."

His gaze fell upon Xu Feng, his eyes filled with tenderness, and he slowly pointed out: "I understand that you have resentment and hatred in your heart, and I will not advise you to force yourself to let go. I only advise you not to have too deep an obsession, because it will not trap others, but your own future path."

After speaking, he slowly turned to the kneeling Qin Tianbao, his tone filled with endless regret: "You possessed superior talent and could have had a bright future, but you squandered it on ambition and ruthless actions. Today, your kneeling is not for Xu Feng, but for your own original aspirations, the pride and principles you discarded with your own hands!"

Qin Tianbao's back was taut and straight, then suddenly slumped down. His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and his fingertips dug deeply into his palms, his nails almost embedding themselves in them. Yet he still kept his head down, not even having the courage to look up at his master.

The front courtyard fell silent; no one spoke, except for the first chirping of cicadas outside the wall.

Xu Feng was jolted, his throat tightened as if something was stuck in his chest. The word "unwilling" lingered on his tongue, but he swallowed it back down. His clenched fists, now white, slowly loosened, the pain in his knuckles subsided, but all that remained in his heart was bitterness and confusion.

After suppressing his emotions for a long time, Qin Tianbao could no longer hold back. He pressed his forehead heavily against the cold bluestone slab, his shoulders trembling violently. He didn't utter a single cry, only silent tears sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the bluestone slab, spreading out small wet marks.

"Master, I was wrong! Third Brother, I am guilty!"

His voice was choked and hoarse, carrying the weight of a long-suppressed breakdown. Each word he uttered landed heavily on the bluestone slab, striking the hearts of everyone present.

The cicadas continued to chirp all around, but no one responded. The courtyard was silent, except for his trembling figure lying on the ground, frozen in the warm breeze of early summer.