All strength was devoured by the vortex in his palm.All storms were swept away by his sweeping strike.All attacks turned to nothing but illusions.
No one had ever survived two full-force strikes from the Shrouding Heaven Palm.
Master Liuxiang's shimmering sword curtain shattered like spun silk. His radiant, blade-light sword—capable of slicing through iron like tofu—was reduced to shards in a brittle crackling sound. The fragments didn't scatter away, but instead reversed midair, driven by that monstrous force, and embedded themselves deep into Master Liuxiang's flesh, turning him into a human pincushion.
Blood sprayed like a fountain. The palm wind of the Shrouding Heaven Palm forced every drop from his veins, erupting through the sword-inflicted wounds in his back, arcing into the sunset as a breathtaking crimson rainbow.
The follow-up palm force struck with the momentum of a collapsing mountain. His already broken body exploded like a burst waterskin, transforming into a dense mist of blood and bone.
Ning Pingzhi, first disciple of the Qingcheng Sect, had his folding fan reversed and driven into his own chest by the swirling force. His Heart-Shattering Palm was effortlessly dissipated. But the power of Qin Ren's palm didn't stop there—it seeped into his heart meridian, rupturing it with a subtle pop.
By the time Ning Pingzhi hit the ground, he was already a corpse. A complete one, fortunately.
As for Fei Fei, the top enforcer of the Hollow Sect, his Five Flooding Palms didn't even belong on the same level as the Shrouding Heaven Palm. His ending was without suspense—his body burst into a mist of red, joining Master Liuxiang's gore in painting a surreal, almost beautiful, crimson flower in the air. The sunset cast it in hues both poetic and grisly.
That single palm left everyone stunned into silence.
Liuxiang, Ning Pingzhi, and Fei Fei weren't peak-tier experts, but their combined strike could rival one. Yet Qin Ren—the Third Young Master—ended them all with just one move.
The Third Young Master slowly withdrew his hands, an ironic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
The sunset dyed the sky blood-red.The wind howled through the valley.His blood-soaked stealth robe fluttered wildly in the gale. His hair whipped about his face.He opened his folding fan with a sharp flick, scanning the surroundings with a cold smirk.
That aura—devastatingly handsome, a charm that shocked the world—had returned.
Only now, the unique aura of handsomeness incarnate carried something darker… a killing intent. An aura like a rakshasa from hell—handsome, yes, but terrifyingly bloodthirsty.
Of the eighty-seven who had surrounded him, twenty-four now lay dead. Sixty-three remained.
Thirteen of them were women. One among them was Ye Yingxue.
The aura of the Third Young Master made every man feel inferior and every woman swoon in infatuation.
Correction—not every woman.
Ye Yingxue glared at Qin Ren with bared teeth and a frosty stare, immune to his charms as if she had been born with antibodies against pretty faces.
Twenty elite disciples of Chuixue Hall—gone in one strike.Three near-master-level experts—annihilated in a single palm.This ambush had utterly failed.
Forget the doe-eyed girls staring at him like he was a dream. Even the so-called heroic men, who usually bragged of their gallantry and strength, didn't dare to make a move now.
What use was quantity?
The Shrouding Heaven Palm, paired with his Asura Demon Eyes, bypassed all defenses. Offense or defense, it didn't matter—either way, you'd die.
But Ye Yingxue wasn't one to yield. She clenched her fists, trembling with rage.
"You filthy demon! If I don't kill you today, I, Ye Yingxue, am no longer human!" Her voice echoed through the valley, carried and broken by the howling wind.
Qin Ren laughed. "Beauty, why swear something so cruel? Kill me? You? Not a chance."
Then his icy gaze swept across the shell-shocked encirclement. "You bastards still standing there? What, waiting for me to come finish the job?"
Those words snapped them out of their trance. Without a word, the rest turned and fled like frightened rabbits.
The infatuated women looked back at him again and again, eyes full of reluctant longing.
Ye Yingxue stayed. She turned toward the retreating "heroes" and shouted, "Don't run! How can you fear this perverted demon? You call yourselves heroes? You boast of justice and chivalry, but now you flee like cowards? Are you really so scared of a boy?"
No one responded. They vanished into the distance without even a backward glance.
Ye Yingxue stood still, stunned. "What's happened to them? What's happened to this world? Has chivalry really become so worthless?"
Qin Ren watched her with a rare flicker of sympathy. "You forget, beauty… so-called 'chivalry' is just a fancy excuse for killing. And those who kill… often get killed. If fighting for justice gets you killed, who's going to do it? In the empire of Great Qin, what's the difference between righteous heroes and villainous thugs? Aren't they all just people, trying to survive? Those wandering the jianghu—let's be real—they're mostly dropouts who failed the imperial exams. If you threaten their livelihood in the name of 'justice,' do you really expect them to stick their necks out? It's all the same, black or white, it's just shades of dirt."
Ye Yingxue looked lost. "Jianghu… black and white… What is the jianghu? What is justice? If there's no such thing as chivalry, why did I train so hard? For money? Sure, my sect makes plenty. But most of it goes to helping the poor, to relief efforts. Doesn't that count for something? Don't tell me all the so-called chivalrous heroes are fakes. No… I don't believe it! There is real justice in the world! There is chivalry!"
Her eyes regained clarity. She raised her head and glared at Qin Ren. "You're wrong. There is justice. Black is black. White is white. The lines are clear. I fight for the white path. You walk the black. That's the truth!"
Qin Ren sighed. Damn, she's stubborn.
"All this 'white path vs. black path' talk," he muttered. Where I come from, any gang is a crime syndicate. And you martial artists? You're just vigilantes breaking the law with your fists.
"Bah, forget it. You wouldn't get it anyway." He brushed away his murderous aura. In front of a beauty, menace was useless. Charm was everything. Though with Ye Yingxue, charm alone wouldn't cut it—he needed swagger too.
"Chivalry? Bah!" he scoffed. "You think heroism comes cheap? In this world, the one with the biggest fists makes the rules. I say I'm a once-in-a-generation hero, and who dares to argue? The ones who do? I'll kill them all. Leave only the ones who agree with me, and voilà! I'm a legend! If I can't do it alone, I'll bring my whole clan! I, the Third Young Master, will build a harem with my golden spear. Those who block me die. Those who follow me thrive. Simple!"
He grinned, eyes flashing wickedly. "Be my woman, and forget all this bloodshed nonsense. I promised you, didn't I? I'll make you mine. Come now, don't resist… just join your master. Tonight's dark, the breeze is cool, and there's already a beauty in my carriage. Maybe it's time I revisited the pleasure of two empresses in one night..."
The infamous flower thief was, after all, never far from his true self.
The longer he spoke, the filthier it got. That devilishly handsome face gradually morphed into a lecherous grin, overflowing with shameless glee.
He had one life goal: live as he pleased, and seduce the world.
If others came for him, he'd show them no mercy. A little blood, a few corpses—just part of the job.But when he saw a beauty, all he could imagine was how she'd look—stripped and moaning on his bed.
He, Qin Ren, was the Number One Flower Thief Under Heaven—a certified scoundrel. Better to be a proud pervert than a fake gentleman. If you're going to live like a whore, don't bother pretending to be a virgin.
Ye Yingxue sneered. If shamelessness were an art, this man was a grandmaster.
"You bastard! I may not be your equal in martial arts, but I'd rather die than submit!" she cried, cutting off his obscene rambling before he described another bedroom position.
Qin Ren's eyes narrowed. He looked up at the darkening sky. A crescent moon was just rising over the mountains.
"Hmph. A perfect night for murder," he muttered coldly. "Second Brother, you know I don't do rape. Too crude, no technique. But I did say I'd conquer this woman tonight… So let's use some artistry—sleeping powder artistry!"
He pulled out a small pouch from his sash with a wicked grin.
Ye Yingxue had calmed herself. Channeling all her internal strength, she leapt toward him like a white crane, sword flashing, snowflakes dancing in her blade's wake.
The Snowflake Divine Sword!
Qin Ren shook his head. It was beautiful, sure. But he was wearing two pieces of enchanted armor. Let her stab—what would it matter?
Clink! Her blade struck his chest, only to be blocked by the invisible layer of his stealth robe and the indestructible silk armor beneath.
As Ye Yingxue froze in shock, Qin Ren casually flung the powder at her.
A delicate fragrance filled the air.
The game was just beginning.