The Unyielding Madness of Wei Qing

Li Xin embraced Wei Qing, cradling her head on her arm.

With trembling hands, Li Xin fed the medicinal pill into Wei Qing’s mouth, her heart overflowing with a rising tide of unease and dread.

Her eyes were brimming, tears relentlessly tracing paths down her cheeks.

The ceaseless cheers and applause from the surroundings, however, completely drowned out her profound sorrow.

Lin Mo’s kick had been undeniably brutal.

Yet, she found herself unable to fault anyone else; this… this was all Wei Qing’s own doing.

What truly bewildered her was how, despite having only received a single kick, Wei Qing’s lips were now continuously oozing blood, and a few coughs from her unconscious form culminated in a torrent of blood spewing forth.

‘This, this can’t be right?! It was just one kick, how… how could it be so severe?’

A wave of frantic urgency surged through Li Xin.

She wanted desperately to get up and seek medical attention for Wei Qing, but… but she dared not move recklessly, fearing that any careless motion might exacerbate Wei Qing’s injuries!

“Xiao An! What are you waiting for?! Come with me, quickly, we need to find an Elder!”

Li Xin could only shout anxiously at Lu Ping’an, who stood beside her, inexplicably frozen in a daze.

“Li Xin, you go. You are skilled in movement techniques, incredibly fast, and proficient in medicine. You can find someone quickly and explain Wei Qing’s injuries more clearly to an Elder or the host.”

Lu Ping’an knelt, and within the small space carved out for them amidst the surging crowd, she tremblingly extended her hands, wanting to take Wei Qing from Li Xin.

“…Very well!”

Li Xin didn’t hesitate, carefully placing the unconscious Wei Qing into Lu Ping’an’s embrace.

“Xiao An, remember not to move her. I’ll be right back!”

With that, Li Xin rose to her feet and vanished into the throng.

“Wei Qing.”

Lu Ping’an gently embraced Wei Qing, leaning in to whisper something in her ear, though its content remained unknown.

The desolate cheers swallowed everything, engulfing even them.

On the arena stage, Lin Mo had already instantly defeated six opponents in succession!

Six people! Six Jia-rank disciples!

And all six of these individuals possessed cultivation levels superior to Lin Mo’s!

“Hiss—” Someone in the audience gasped, sucking in a sharp breath.

Immediately, the brief, stunned silence gave way to an even more fervent, almost riotous tide of cheers that threatened to overturn the entire training ground!

“That’s the sixth!” a voice shrieked hoarsely from the crowd, carrying a tremor that bordered on reverence.

“Who can stop him? Who can stop Disciple Lin! Jia-rank disciples, before him, are like… like paper dolls!” someone muttered, their voice thick with disbelief.

“Not paper dolls!” A slightly older disciple’s face was ashen, her voice trembling. “It’s Disciple Lin… he’s simply too strong!”

At this moment, in everyone’s eyes, Lin Mo stood with his breathing still steady, as if defeating six opponents was merely the act of brushing a few specks of dust from his shoulder.

On the stage, Lin Mo slowly raised his gaze, his eyes sweeping over the remaining challengers below the platform.

His gaze held no arrogant disdain for the world, yet it was as cold as a deep pool of ancient ice, utterly calm and unruffled, as if the preceding intense battles had been nothing more than a leisurely stroll.

Each strike occurred in the blink of an eye, concise, precise, and lethal.

The opponents’ proud offensives, before they could even fully unfold before him, were shattered and pulverized by immense force or a lightning-fast punch.

Clearly audible were the crisp ‘snap’ sounds of bones shattering when previous challengers were sent flying, still faintly echoing in the ears of the more cultivated disciples.

Each reverberation caused the next waiting disciple’s face to grow a shade paler, their hands clenching tighter, knuckles turning white, fingernails almost digging into their palms.

‘Such… such power… why is he still categorized as “Yi-rank”?’

‘Surely the Elders made a mistake in their judgment?!’

Unbeknownst to them, it wasn’t just the disciples, but even the Elders observing in secret, who were utterly astonished.

Their gazes were fixed intently on Lin Mo, a blend of awe and incredulous scrutiny.

One of them whispered in a dry voice, “This child…”

‘The purity of his spiritual energy, the effortlessness of his control… how can he be a newly admitted disciple?’

“This… the purity of his spiritual energy, that can be credited to the Bright Jade Profound Yin technique. But the effortless control… how could a Qi Condensation disciple achieve such a degree of mastery? How could a disciple like this possibly be judged ‘Yi-rank’?” another Elder murmured, her eyes gleaming as if trying to penetrate Lin Mo’s very foundations.

In the shadows of the arena, the Jia-rank disciple who had yet to step onto the stage felt fine beads of cold sweat break out on her forehead.

When Lin Mo’s cool, clear gaze fell upon them, an indescribable chill instantly seized their heart.

Their sword-gripping hand trembled uncontrollably, and even their jaw was subtly chattering.

His strength, beyond all imagination, had already conquered everyone present.

At this moment, no one dared to question Lin Mo’s position as a Personal Disciple.

Yet, what baffled everyone was why such formidable power was attributed to a mere “Yi-rank” disciple.

But just then, someone suddenly snatched the sword from their hand, and a sharp reprimand echoed in their ear: “Get out of the way.”

It was none other than Wei Qing, the very person who had publicly declared Lin Mo a “thief,” who had snatched their sword and intended to step onto the arena!

‘Even if I can’t defeat Lin Mo, when did it become your turn, you fool, to tell me to get lost?’

Anger flared within them, and they were just about to reach out and snatch the sword back!

But with just a single glance back, Wei Qing immediately intimidated them!

At this moment, Wei Qing’s eyes were bloodshot!

Her ferocious gaze resembled that of a wild beast, as if she yearned to devour someone whole, gnawing on their bones and sucking out their marrow!

That gaze was savage, revealing an intense killing intent, as if daring to meddle further would only result in her own head being severed by that very sword!

Stunned by a mere look, they simply allowed Wei Qing to ascend the stage with the sword.

The moment Wei Qing stepped onto the stage, Lin Mo immediately noticed her.

This girl, whom he had initially knocked unconscious with a single kick, had surprisingly managed to stand up again, and… she seemed full of belligerent intent.

However, considering Qiu Yue, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

It was easily understood; Qiu Yue had simply promised her some benefit, compelling her to confront him head-on.

Coincidentally, Lin Mo was also quite displeased about being unjustly labeled.

If that previous kick hadn’t taught her a lesson, then now she would—

“Swoosh—!”

A blood-stained cold gleam tore through the air!

Its speed was several times faster than before!

Lin Mo’s pupils constricted sharply!

‘This sword strike… it absolutely shouldn’t be possible for someone gravely wounded and on the verge of death to wield!’

He dodged sharply, twisting his body to the extreme—

“Rip!”

The fabric on his left shoulder tore instantly!

The sword qi, having grazed his skin, burned with a fiery pain!

Lin Mo tensed his back.

Lin Mo suddenly felt it: permeating the air was… a murderous intent as viscous as blood!

A killing intent that had almost solidified into a tangible presence!

He was all too familiar with such an aura—solidified, bone-scraping, marrow-invading!

But what puzzled Lin Mo was: her speed… where did it come from?

What further startled Lin Mo was that Wei Qing’s dying body had erupted with such terrifying power!?

Wei Qing’s eyes were bloodshot, her bones emitted strange sounds, and an overwhelming murderous intent, coupled with a savage aura, surged frantically.

Her crimson eyes were fixed immovably on Lin Mo, and from her throat, broken, hoarse roars escaped:

“Kill… ugh… kill…”

Each word seemed mixed with bloody foam, imbued with an unyielding, relentless madness.

‘?’

‘Something’s not right…?’