Chapter 690: Yu Guannan Scoffed!
"Little Sister?" Yu Guanying was startled.
"Big Brother, rest assured, Old Qin definitely won't lose!" Yu Guannan said calmly, her starry eyes looking coldly at Shen Anyu. "You absolutely cannot be a match for Old Qin!"
"Guannan is the future granddaughter-in-law of my Qin Family, so relax, this old man certainly won't lose!" Old Qin spoke with abundant vitality.
Seeing this, Yu Guanying could only agree. He didn't believe Shen Anyu could win; if he didn't dare to gamble with a ninety-nine percent chance of victory, then he wouldn't be the Yu Clan's Crown Prince. He certainly possessed that much courage.
Furthermore, Yu Guanying's gaze sharpened as he subtly focused his inner energy, sending a sound transmission directly into Old Qin's mind. The message was a blade of ice, devoid of any of his outward composure. 'Old Qin, this isn't just a spar. Seize the opportunity. I don't just want him injured, I want him crippled. Break his dantian, shatter his meridians. I want the Shen Clan's so-called prodigy to spend the rest of his life as useless trash.'
The threat Shen Anyu represented was a venomous serpent coiling around Yu Guanying's heart. A Heavenly Human in his twenties? Such a being wasn't just a prodigy; he was a monster, a world-shaking anomaly that could single-handedly overturn the delicate balance of power between the great clans. Every day Shen Anyu was allowed to grow was another nail in the Yu Clan's coffin.
He must not be allowed to remain!
Old Qin's eyes, ancient and deep-set, flickered with understanding. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod, a silent promise of violence. His public demeanor, however, remained that of an untouchable grandmaster. He squared his shoulders, his weathered hands clasped behind his back, and addressed Shen Anyu with a voice that boomed through the now-silent hall.
"Shen family boy," he declared, his tone dripping with condescension, "this old man won't bully the young. I will let you have three moves."
'Let me have three moves?'
The sheer, unadulterated absurdity of the statement almost made Shen Anyu laugh out loud. A genuine, unrestrained laugh that would have echoed off the crystal chandeliers. If he were to unleash his true power, even for a fraction of a second, Old Qin wouldn't last half a move. He would be reduced to a fine mist of blood and bone before his brain could even register the attack.
'Fine,' Shen Anyu decided, a flicker of cruel amusement in his eyes. 'I'll humor him. I'll use… five percent of my strength. Any more might give the old fossil a heart attack before I even make my move.'
"You said you'd let me have three moves, right?" Shen Anyu's expression was playful, a disarming smile spreading across his face, a stark contrast to the frigid killing intent radiating from his opponent.
"Naturally, it is true," Old Qin said, his chin held high in an arrogant tilt. "Is this old man afraid of a junior like you?"
"Then don't go back on your word," Shen Anyu's smile grew wider, sharper, like the edge of a pristine blade.
At that moment, the opulent banquet hall had been transformed into a makeshift arena. The terrified socialites, powerful tycoons, and arrogant young masters had all scurried to the periphery, their faces pale with a mixture of fear and morbid excitement. Even the disgraced Yu Guanxiong and the other sycophants who had been kneeling were unceremoniously helped away, clearing a vast, gleaming marble space for the two combatants.
The air grew thick with hushed whispers and anxious speculation as every eye fixed on the two figures in the center.
"Between Old Qin and the Shen Clan Young Master, who will win? Who will lose?" a portly businessman muttered to his companion, nervously dabbing sweat from his brow.
"That goes without saying! It must be Old Qin!" his friend replied with absolute certainty. "Old Qin reached the Heavenly Human realm over twenty years ago! He has seventy years of brutal cultivation under his belt. How could a young pup like the Shen Clan's master possibly contend with that kind of foundation?"
"That's right! Anyone with a shred of knowledge about the martial arts world knows the weight of Old Qin's name! His strength is legendary in Hangzhou!" another chimed in, his voice filled with reverence.
"The Shen Clan's young master is a heaven-defying genius, no doubt. Reaching the Heavenly Human realm in his twenties is unheard of… but his experience is his fatal flaw. He's all talent and no wisdom. Challenging Old Qin now was pure, youthful impulse."
The consensus was nearly unanimous. Shen Anyu was a shooting star, brilliant but destined to burn out quickly against the unyielding mountain that was Old Qin. The sheer chasm in age and experience was too vast to overcome. Once a martial artist ascended to the Heavenly Human level, their physical body was reforged. Even at seventy, Old Qin was at his absolute peak, his battle strength untouched by the decay of time. If he weren't, how could he possibly bear the title of a "Heavenly Human"?
"When Old Qin became a Heavenly Human, Shen Anyu hadn't even been born yet. The disparity is as wide as the heavens," Yu Guanying sneered, his confidence restored. This time, Shen Anyu had walked right into his own grave.
Ordinarily, it would be unthinkable for a veteran like Old Qin to openly attack a junior from another top clan. Such a blatant act of bullying the young would invite not only the wrath of the Shen and An Clans but also universal condemnation from the entire martial society. Any such act would have to be done in the shadows, through assassination and plausible deniability.
After all, Yanxia was a great world power that prized stability and order above all else. Even Heavenly Humans were not above the law. The crushing weight of the state machine could grind anyone, no matter how powerful, into dust.
But now, Shen Anyu, in his infinite arrogance, had handed them the perfect excuse. A public duel, a wager of his own making. If Old Qin crippled him here, openly and "fairly," the Yanxia Shen Clan and the Yanxia An Clan would have no choice but to swallow this bitter pill in silence. Oh, they would undoubtedly seek revenge later, but the Yu Clan had been rivals with the Shens for generations. They were not afraid of a war they were now certain they could win.
Nearby, Yu Guannan's expression was a mask of cold indifference, but her mind was a raging tempest. 'Why? Why did he propose using me as the stake? Was it purely to humiliate the Yu Clan? To humiliate me specifically? Or is there some other, deeper motive I can't see?'
She remembered, vaguely, a time before Shen Anyu's so-called "Awakening." Back then, he was just another arrogant, hedonistic wastrel, a playboy who had once tried to pursue her with clumsy, transparent overtures. She had dismissed him without a second thought. He was nothing.
Yu Guannan lifted her eyes, her gaze drawn to the man standing so calmly in the center of the hall. As if sensing her stare, Shen Anyu turned his head and gave her a casual, almost lazy wink. The audacity of it sent a jolt of indignant heat through her.
She let out a soft, contemptuous "hmph."
'Lecher!'
"Little Sister, what do you think?" Yu Guanying's voice cut through her turbulent thoughts.
Yu Guannan's composure snapped back into place instantly. She turned to her brother, her voice as cool and steady as polished jade. "Old Qin will win. He will crush Shen Anyu with overwhelming force. There is no other possible outcome."
On the other side of the hall, Ling Qingcheng and He Yiyi watched with hearts heavy with dread.
'This absolute fool,' Ling Qingcheng thought, a frustrating mix of anger and worry churning in her stomach. 'Proposing such a stake… Is his pride, his need to flirt, more important than his own life? Is the danger meaningless to him?' When Shen Anyu had declared Yu Guannan as the prize, a part of Ling Qingcheng had felt a sharp, inexplicable sting of annoyance. She even found herself wondering if this entire confrontation had been orchestrated from the beginning, if his true target was Yu Guannan all along, and she was just a convenient excuse.
But then, her mind replayed the events of the evening. Everything Shen Anyu had done for her was undeniably real. If he hadn't intervened, if he hadn't stood before Yu Guanxiong like an immovable mountain, the consequences for her would have been unimaginable. Her carefully constructed life would have shattered.
'Just… don't get hurt. Please don't get hurt. If you get hurt, how… how am I supposed to explain this to Yaqian?' Ling Qingcheng's phoenix eyes were locked onto Shen Anyu's back, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.
Beside her, He Yiyi clasped her hands over her chest, her lips moving in a silent, desperate prayer.
The entire crowd, whether they were worried, nervous, or gloating over Shen Anyu's impending doom, held their collective breath. All eyes were laser-focused on the two figures who stood as the epicenter of the storm.
"Shen family boy, make your move," Old Qin repeated, his hands still behind his back, a cruel sneer twisting his lips. "I am letting you have three moves."
"Don't regret it."
"I, Qin Shan, certainly won't regret it."
Shen Anyu's slight smile never wavered. Facing the undisputed number one powerhouse in Hangzhou, he showed no fear, no hesitation, no concern whatsoever. He simply raised his head slightly and let out a soft, clear call that cut through the silence:
"Sword, come."
'Sword? Come from where?' The question echoed in the minds of everyone present. They all looked around, bewildered. This was the most luxurious banquet hall in the Hilton Hotel, a place of crystal, silk, and polished marble. There wasn't a sword in sight.
But in the next instant, a sound like a thousand tiny bells shattering ripped through the air.
Every champagne flute, every wine glass, every bottle of exquisite red wine on every table spontaneously exploded. The crowd gasped, flinching back as if struck. But the shards of glass didn't fly. They hovered. And the liquid… the liquid defied gravity.
Streams of amber champagne, deep crimson wine, and crystal-clear spirits rose from the tables, swirling into the air like rebellious rivers flowing toward the sky. They converged above Shen Anyu's head, a maelstrom of color and light. Under the brilliant glow of the chandeliers, the liquid began to compress, to twist, to solidify.
One by one, they took shape.
Longswords.
One, two, three… ten… a hundred… a thousand… ten thousand shimmering blades condensed from pure liquid, each one humming with an energy so sharp it made the air itself feel thin and cold. They filled the cavernous space of the banquet hall, a dense forest of suspended weaponry, their tips all pointed directly at Old Qin.
An invisible wave of Sword Qi rolled out, an impossibly powerful pressure that felt like a physical weight, forcing the onlookers to stumble back, their lungs struggling for air.
Witnessing such a divine, terrifying spectacle, everyone present was utterly, profoundly shocked into silence.
"Just… how strong… is Young Master Shen?" a man whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of pure reverence and primal fear.
The looks directed at Shen Anyu were no longer just curious or speculative. They were looks reserved for a god, or a demon. This wasn't the work of a human. This was the power of a Sword Immortal from the ancient legends.
"Shen Anyu… is actually this powerful?" Yu Guannan stared, her beautiful starry eyes wide and round, as immense waves of disbelief crashed against the shores of her heart. She was a Martial Arts Grandmaster; she could feel the power thrumming within those blades. She knew, with chilling certainty, that she couldn't withstand a single one of them. And there were tens of thousands. If they were all unleashed, they wouldn't just level the Hilton Hotel; they would carve a crater in the very heart of Hangzhou.
"Impossible! How could Shen Anyu be this strong?!" Yu Guanying's face had become a thunderous mask of gloom. He stared, wide-eyed, as the last vestiges of his control over the situation evaporated like morning mist. The prodigy he planned to cripple was not a prodigy at all. He was a cataclysm.
'It's fine,' he tried to reassure himself, his heart hammering against his ribs. 'There's still Old Qin. Once Old Qin makes his move… once he stops holding back, everything will be fine.'
But in the next moment, a voice—hoarse, strained, and filled with a terror that defied belief—suddenly rang out.
"I… I, Qin, concede!"
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