Chapter Seventy-Three: Astonishing with a Single Punch

Just moments ago, I thought his attire lent him a certain aura reminiscent of Master Li—little did I expect that, as soon as he opened his mouth, he would spew filth, revealing himself as nothing more than a beast in gentleman’s clothing.

I had witnessed the Green-robed Mistress’s deadly whisk technique before, but I never anticipated that Zhang Changlu could neutralize it barehanded, incinerating her attack without a weapon. Though his conduct was despicable, his strength was truly formidable and not to be underestimated.

Faced with such humiliation, the Green-robed Mistress was incensed. “You beast, prepare to die!” she cried.

Her fury was so overwhelming that, even standing more than ten meters away, I could feel its tide—like a raging flood. Whisk in hand, her robes billowed despite the absence of wind.

She advanced, her steps strange and swift, leaving behind afterimages that encircled Zhang Changlu. Deadly white threads surged from every direction, aiming to ensnare him.

Yet Zhang Changlu merely sneered. With a sudden motion, he drew a yellow talisman, forming seals with his fingers and chanting quickly. With a sharp hiss, fire spiraled from his hand, consuming the murderous threads entirely. The Green-robed Mistress, anticipating this move, had already maneuvered behind him as her threads burned away.

With a swift sound, her whisk, like a white serpent, coiled around Zhang Changlu’s neck.

There was a creak as the whisk tightened, Zhang Changlu’s face flushing red—clearly suffocating.

But at the corners of his mouth, he wore a sinister grin. Suddenly, with a surge of hidden strength, he twisted his body, dragging the Green-robed Mistress off balance.

With a sharp cry, the whisk snapped, falling to the ground in fragments. Seizing her misstep, Zhang Changlu wrapped an arm around the Green-robed Mistress’s waist.

“Such a slender waist, Mistress. I told you, tonight I’ll come to share a drink—why so eager?” Zhang Changlu jeered.

With a slap, the Green-robed Mistress struck him and slipped away, retreating quickly.

“Mistress, are you alright?” I asked.

I hadn’t expected Zhang Changlu to destroy her whisk so effortlessly.

“Lin Yi, White Clear Temple is nothing but a trap. Leave here at once! That woman’s talk of marriage and your origins was just a ruse—they want to lure you away and take over the temple, using me to trick you into appearing. Zhang Changlu is the new chief disciple of Dragon Tiger Mountain. Now, I fear the entire Daoist world has issued a kill order for you. I should never have brought you down the mountain!” she said.

Still furious, she formed seals with her fingers and rushed at Zhang Changlu. “You shameless scoundrel, you tarnish the Daoist name—I’ll kill you!”

“Mistress, you possess such beauty. Why not spend tonight here, drinking and enjoying the moon with me? Isn’t that far more refined?” Zhang Changlu replied.

From the hands of a female Daoist behind her, the Green-robed Mistress drew a ritual sword. Wind gathered at her feet as she darted toward Zhang Changlu.

His expression shifted; his fingers quickly formed seals. With a surge of hidden strength, he charged at her, a phantom image erupting from his palm, colliding with her sword and shattering it.

With only half a broken blade left, the Green-robed Mistress pressed on.

Zhang Changlu’s footwork twisted unpredictably; suddenly, he was within half a meter of her. Startled, she instinctively thrust her broken sword at him, but before the blade could connect, he struck her chest with his palm.

A resounding crash.

The Green-robed Mistress was sent flying, her robes torn and disheveled, exposing her inner garments. Even her hairpin was undone by the force, her long hair falling loose—she was utterly bedraggled.

“Mistress, your robes are hardly durable. Shall we continue? If you persist, things may become even more interesting…” Zhang Changlu mocked.

The other Daoists nearby burst out laughing, their faces lecherous and greedy.

“You beast…” The Green-robed Mistress could not finish her sentence. Blood splattered from her lips. Everything happened so quickly; I hadn’t imagined this beast in gentleman’s garb possessed such power—his attacks were truly vile.

She was already injured, and though half a month had passed, her wounds were not healed. If she kept fighting, her life would be in danger. I hurried over to help her up. “Mistress, stop fighting. Your injury has flared up again!”

“Lin Yi, it’s my fault. Leave now; I’ll hold off this lecher!” she said, pushing me away and struggling to stand, broken sword in hand, shielding me behind her.

Seeing her back, I was moved.

“Mistress, your wounds haven’t healed. Rest for a moment—I’ll handle this beast!” I said, clenching my fists until my knuckles cracked.

In that moment, it felt as if a fire ignited within me.

“What are you doing, Lin Yi? Zhang Changlu is the new chief disciple of Dragon Tiger Mountain. He recently broke through to the Yuanshen stage; within the Daoist world, few surpass him except the grandmasters. No one else can match him. Leave now! It was my failure to see through Dragon Tiger Mountain’s schemes that brought you here. Rest assured, I’ll protect you with my life, making sure you leave safely!” the Green-robed Mistress insisted, forming seals again.

But as she did, more blood spilled from her lips.

“Hahaha… Mistress, your wounds are grave, and you’ve just taken another blow from me. No need to talk about protecting that boy. Don’t worry, I won’t kill him. From what I hear, Lin Yi can’t even best a few ghost soldiers; taking his life would be as easy as crushing an ant. The Chief Master has ordered the entire Daoist world to hunt Lin Yi. Soon, I’ll take him to Dragon Tiger Mountain. You’re his accomplice and should be taken as well. However, if you agree to become my Dao companion, I might plead your case to the Chief Master. What do you say?” Zhang Changlu said, fixing his gaze on her.

Then he turned to me. “Lin Yi, will you surrender, or would you rather fight?”

I signaled to the Green-robed Mistress. “Don’t worry, Mistress. I’ll be fine. Rest for now.”

She tried to object, but I waved her off, then faced Zhang Changlu. “Zhang Changlu, I’ll fight you—but I have one condition.”

At this, Zhang Changlu burst out laughing.

“I… I want to fight you…” The other Daoists snickered, mocking my audacity.

“What, are you afraid?” I retorted.

Zhang Changlu laughed so hard he could barely stand, pointing at me. “Alright, I accept. What’s your condition?”

“If you lose, you must kneel and apologize to the Green-robed Mistress, beg her forgiveness, and, before the Daoists of White Clear Temple, slap yourself in the face as a gesture of apology. Do you agree?” I said. After such humiliation, it was only right to demand this of him.

My words made Zhang Changlu laugh even harder. “Very well! I’ve cultivated for decades and never encountered such entertainment. Since you have a condition, so do I. If you lose, the Green-robed Mistress will become my Dao companion. How about it?”

“Deal!” I replied.

“Lin Yi, you needn’t risk yourself for me. I know you’ve practiced some time in the mountains, but in today’s Daoist world, those above Yuanshen are rare and all are legendary figures. Zhang Changlu’s strength far surpasses mine—you mustn’t fight him!” the Green-robed Mistress pleaded.

“Mistress, rest assured. I won’t let you marry such a beast!” I said.

“That’s not what I mean—he’ll kill you!” she cried, worry etched across her face.

“It’ll be fine!” I said.

With that, I strode toward Zhang Changlu.

He sneered. “Lin Yi, fists and feet are blind. If you die, I hope Mistress won’t hold it against me!”

Then, Zhang Changlu unleashed his hidden strength, transforming into a phantom and attacking me. When he was less than half a meter away, he punched directly at my brow—a killing blow, intent on ending me in one strike.

But just as his fist was about to land, I spun rapidly, my own fist cracking as it smashed into his back with a resounding thud.

Zhang Changlu fell to his knees.

He knelt facing the Green-robed Mistress.

“Beast, your attitude is commendable—kneeling right from the start!” I taunted.

With a furious cry, Zhang Changlu pushed off the ground, flipping upright, retreating more than ten meters and staring at me as if I were some anomaly. The other Daoists were stunned into silence.

“You little brat! Hiding your strength—you almost got the better of me. Xier, bring me my ritual sword!” Zhang Changlu had attacked me without even bothering to use sorcery; having suffered a setback, he called out to the hall behind, and a young woman, about my age, emerged.

She was the one who had falsely claimed to be my fiancée. She handed Zhang Changlu the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams Ritual Sword.

Confused, she asked, “Father, you need the ritual sword to deal with him?”

“This boy’s tricks are insidious. If he doesn’t suffer a loss, he won’t know his place!”

Clearly, my move had enraged Zhang Changlu.

“Lin Yi, that sword was bestowed by the Chief Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain. It is a divine weapon, able to summon heavenly thunder. Be careful!” the Green-robed Mistress warned me.