Chapter Twelve: Revealing the Secrets of Heaven

As soon as Miao Kewei finished speaking, a disciple from the Kunlun Sect stood up. With a stamp of his feet, he soared onto the stage and laughed, "I've made some progress in my training these past few days. Brother Miao, I hope you won't hesitate to give me your guidance." This man was none other than He Shichong, the direct disciple of Iron Scale.

After the two exchanged courtesies, He Shichong launched the "Immortal Points the Way," aiming a finger strike at Miao Kewei's chest. Miao Kewei sidestepped, abandoning the central path for a more unorthodox dodge, and countered with the Wind and Thunder Palm's "Wild Wind Cuts Across," slashing toward He Shichong's waist. He Shichong’s form shifted, and he spun around Miao Kewei like a lantern, swift and elusive. Miao Kewei, relying on the unchanged to counter the ever-changing, used his Wind and Thunder Palm to shield his entire body, leaving no opening for attack. Such a battle of movement was exhausting, and before long, He Shichong’s stamina faltered. He gathered his inner strength and struck with the Iron Lute Palm. Miao Kewei, most adept at the Tianshan Sect’s Great Stele-Smiting Hand, responded with a thunderous shout and brought the technique down upon his opponent. The two palm forces collided with a resounding crack; Miao Kewei was forced back three steps, while He Shichong spat a mouthful of fresh blood and collapsed in a faint.

Iron Scale flew into a rage. "My disciple did not use his full strength, yet you went all out and injured him! Come, let me take on one of your moves!" With that, he leapt into the arena, raising his Iron Lute Palm. The sect heads were greatly alarmed. Iron Scale, famed as the Thunderbolt of Kunlun, was unmatched in the northwest; Miao Kewei stood no chance against him. They all rose to intervene, but Master Xuanwu quickly stopped them. "My junior brother has a fiery temper. If you don’t interfere, he’ll remember his status and won’t harm Miao Kewei. But if you insist on stopping him, he might lose all restraint and could even kill Miao Kewei in a fit of anger."

The sect heads, anxious and frustrated, dared not openly oppose Master Xuanwu nor forcibly intervene. At that moment, a cold laugh rang out: "So much for remembering one’s status! If you truly respected your place, why would you step into the ring to spar with a junior?" Master Xuanwu turned in fury and saw a young man standing behind him—it was Li Chongyuan.

Inside the arena, Miao Kewei was already struggling desperately. If not for Iron Scale’s concern for appearances, he would likely have been injured by now. Even so, danger pressed in from all sides. The Iron Lute Palm was about to strike his heart; there was nowhere to escape. Iron Scale, however, did not intend to kill Miao Kewei—he simply wanted to make him spit blood, thus restoring the Kunlun Sect’s honor. Suddenly, a flicker of movement passed by, and a numbness tingled at his "Laughing Waist Point." Knowing things had gone awry, he instantly channeled his inner energy to protect his vital spots, forcefully pulled back his hand, swept his palm behind him, and leapt out of the circle.

Miao Kewei, as if snatched from death’s door, stood pale and speechless. Li Chongyuan was also greatly surprised; his sneak attack had been executed with perfect timing and accuracy, and should have felled the opponent instantly. Who could have guessed Iron Scale would be unscathed? What Li Chongyuan did not know was that Iron Scale himself suffered in silence: half his body was numb and weak. Forcing his energy to circulate, he cursed, "Where did this brat come from, to dare sneak attack a Daoist master!" Li Chongyuan replied, "Li Chongyuan, a junior disciple of the Tianshan Sect, requests guidance from Uncle Iron Scale." With that, he advanced, launching the Wind and Thunder Palm’s "Drums and Gongs Resound" directly at Iron Scale’s ribs. By now, Iron Scale had used the conversation to clear his meridians and regain agility. Li Chongyuan’s inexperience showed; where a seasoned fighter would press the advantage relentlessly, he gave his foe room to recover.

Iron Scale secretly harbored murderous intent. Violent by nature, he cared nothing for the century-old friendship between the two sects. His inner strength surged, his hands turned bluish-purple—unmistakably, he was about to unleash his famed Iron Lute Palm.

With a shout, his left hand struck toward Li Chongyuan’s head while his right jabbed at the Conception Vessel. This attack left no room for defense. Forced to change tactics, Li Chongyuan used "Raising Fire to Scorch the Heavens" to parry, then struck back with the same "Great Stele-Smiting Hand" toward Iron Scale’s head. Iron Scale rejoiced inwardly. If he killed the boy in open combat, the martial world would condemn him for bullying the young; the Tianshan Sect would not let matters rest. But if, in a contest of inner strength, Li Chongyuan was "accidentally" killed, it would be seen as an unfortunate mishap. After all, such matches were inherently perilous and could cost lives. How much inner strength could a youth like Li Chongyuan possibly possess? With this in mind, Iron Scale met the attack head-on, unleashing all his inner energy. Li Chongyuan, having committed to the move, could no longer withdraw. The match turned into a battle of inner strength.

Though Li Chongyuan had reached the sixth level of his Primordial Energy skill, Iron Scale’s inner power was on par with Zi Wuzhuo—Li Chongyuan was outmatched.

He felt an immense pressure bearing down on him, even greater than what Zi Wuzhuo had exerted when testing his skills years prior. His chest grew tight, nausea churned within him, but he forced it down and desperately drove his Primordial Energy to resist. The inner energies of Tianshan and Kunlun, both of the Yang attribute, could not overcome each other; they could only clash with raw force. Under the might of Iron Scale’s energy, Li Chongyuan’s power was pushed back, inch by inch, until it reached his Conception Vessel. If forced past this point, his heart meridian would be damaged; if Iron Scale harbored malice, shattering Li Chongyuan’s heart meridian would be all too easy.

At that critical moment, the Conception Vessel suddenly throbbed, and his Asura Divine Skill was triggered by the overwhelming external pressure. The bone-chilling, Yin-aspected Asura energy surged up his meridians in counterattack. Kunlun’s hard Yang energy, once so domineering, was now subdued and harmonized by the Asura energy, then absorbed into Li Chongyuan’s energy center.

Iron Scale sensed something amiss within his own energy flow but couldn’t fathom the cause. He simply poured forth more and more energy, flooding Li Chongyuan’s body with Kunlun’s force. But the Asura Divine Skill was inexhaustible—no matter how much energy Iron Scale injected, it was neutralized and assimilated. If Iron Scale persisted, he would soon be drained to exhaustion. Yet he dared not stop; if he slowed for even a moment, the Asura energy would seize the opportunity to invade his own meridians. Thus, knowing full well he was feeding a bottomless pit, he had no choice but to go on, terrified and helpless.

Li Chongyuan did not fare much better. One's energy centers can only bear as much as one has cultivated. He possessed the sixth level of power, while Iron Scale neared the ninth. The torrent pouring in was overwhelming; his energy center felt ready to burst. Dizzy and lightheaded, his mind grew clouded. In a last, desperate effort, he gathered all his strength and struck at Iron Scale. Iron Scale, nearly drained, could not withstand it; with a muffled roar, he was hurled several yards and crashed into the snow.

The moment the rampaging energies left his body, Li Chongyuan instantly felt clear-headed and invigorated, delighted to discover that his Primordial Energy had, by some twist of fate, broken through to the seventh level.

Iron Scale’s face had turned ashen, blood pouring from his mouth. Master Xuanwu rushed forward, sealing several of his acupoints with lightning-fast fingers. Iron Scale trembled, raising a shaking hand to point at Li Chongyuan. "That boy… he’s a disciple of the Netherworld Fiend…" Before he could finish, he fainted. The other sect heads were shocked.

Master Xuanwu roared, "So this is your Tianshan Sect’s so-called pure and untainted sanctuary—harboring the scum of the martial world!"

Master Dunan pressed his palms together. "Brother Xuanwu, please do not jump to conclusions. This matter is grave and must be investigated thoroughly. However, news that Brother Iron Scale and his disciple were wounded in a contest will not benefit the Kunlun Sect’s reputation." Xuanwu snorted, "This… this is our own affair; outsiders need not know."

Master Dunan turned and ordered Li Chongyuan to extend his palm so Master Xuanwu could examine his skills. He also instructed Zi Wuzhuo and Yang Wuji to stand by as guardians; should Master Xuanwu attempt any harm under the guise of testing, they were to intervene at once. Li Chongyuan faced Master Xuanwu and said, "Elder of the Kunlun Sect, please proceed."

Master Xuanwu placed his palms together with Li Chongyuan, sending inner strength into the boy’s palm, probing cautiously and withdrawing at the slightest resistance. When his energy penetrated a little deeper, Li Chongyuan’s Primordial Energy instinctively repelled it. Master Xuanwu’s face grew more perplexed—this was clearly orthodox Tianshan inner power, pure Yang and gentle. Why, then, had Iron Scale said he was the Netherworld Fiend’s disciple? Probing further, the pressure on Li Chongyuan increased, and the Asura Divine Skill at his Conception Vessel was triggered. Though Li Chongyuan did his utmost to suppress it, a few wisps of chilling Asura energy escaped. Master Xuanwu sensed a trace of Yin coldness in the boy’s inner energy, but when he tried to examine further, it vanished without a trace. Having crossed paths with the Netherworld Fiend in his youth, he knew that man’s energy was chillingly Yin, utterly devoid of Yang. This youth, clearly, was not the Fiend’s disciple—perhaps the Tianshan Sect had some secret training method, or perhaps the youth had made mistakes in cultivation, resulting in Yin within Yang.

After a long moment, he sighed helplessly. "My junior brother was simply outmatched. There’s nothing more to say. After such an incident, we of the Kunlun Sect have no face to remain on Tianshan."

Master Dunan interjected, "Brother Xuanwu, wait. Let me first examine Brother Iron Scale."

No sooner had he placed his fingers on Iron Scale’s pulse than Master Dunan’s brow furrowed. He had thought Iron Scale was simply careless, but the pulse revealed that first, his inner strength had been forcibly taken, then he had been grievously injured by force. He then summoned Li Chongyuan, who lightly struck his own chest, sending his abundant Primordial Energy coursing through his body. A flash of surprise flickered in Master Dunan’s eyes, but his benevolent expression quickly returned. Though Li Chongyuan tried his best to hide it, Master Dunan was an extraordinary figure—his martial skill was unfathomable, his mind keen and perceptive. Whether he could be deceived was anyone’s guess.