Chapter Seventy-Five: The Zhao Family's Perilous Situation

Liu Feng stood amidst the crowd, watching the farce unfold, a glimmer of light flickering in his eyes.

At that moment, Zhang Wenbin stepped forward and addressed Wang Yue, saying, "Since you can't make a decision, let's settle this with a martial contest."

Hearing his son's words, Zhang Jiayang's face broke into a smile. He clasped his fists toward Wang Rui and said, "Lord Wang, please do not take offense. This matter concerns my son's happiness, so we've come here. I wonder what your thoughts are on my son's proposal?"

Wang Rui looked toward Zhao Heng and asked, "Brother Zhao, how do you think this should be resolved?" A shadowy gleam flashed in his eyes as he thought to himself, "Ideally, a conflict will erupt between the Zhao and Zhang families—that way, as city lord, I'll be able to better control their expansion of influence."

Zhao Heng snorted coldly. "Zhang Jiayang, is there no possibility of compromise on your part in this matter?"

"None whatsoever. For the sake of my son, I am prepared to go to war with the Zhao family," Zhang Jiayang replied coldly.

The Zhao family patriarch, Zhao Tu, came over and whispered in Zhao Heng's ear, "Third brother, I think we have no choice but to accept their terms and let the martial contest decide Wang Yue's fate."

"But, eldest brother, if word gets out, where will I put my face? The Zhao family's reputation will suffer as well," Zhao Heng said, anger coloring his voice.

Zhao Tu sighed. "Third brother, Wang Rui is eager to see us and the Zhangs locked in a bitter struggle, so he can tighten his hold on our development. For the sake of the Zhao family's future, you and your son will have to endure this humiliation."

Zhao Heng pondered for a moment. "Very well, I'll agree to resolve Wang Yue's fate through a martial contest."

He walked up to Zhang Jiayang. "I accept your terms."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Hong's face flushed red and pale by turns, and he cried out, "Father, why agree to their unreasonable demands?"

Zhao Heng looked at his son, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. He said coldly, "This matter has been discussed between your uncle and me. Do not question it further."

Zhao Hong clenched his fists, his teeth grinding audibly, but he was powerless to do anything.

Zhao Heng turned his gaze away from his son and addressed Zhang Jiayang, "What are the rules?"

Zhang Jiayang answered, "Simple. So it doesn't appear that my son is using his superior strength to bully yours, let's decide the outcome over three rounds."

"My son is at the ninth stage of the Qi Gathering realm, naturally not comparable to your son in the Yin-Yang realm. Three rounds to determine the victor is acceptable," Zhao Heng nodded.

"Then, let the three most outstanding youths under twenty years old from each side compete," Zhang Jiayang said, and two men stepped out from behind him, joining Zhang Wenbin to make three.

Zhao Heng looked at the young men of the Zhao family. "Zhao Bochao, Zhao Jun, Zhao Da—compete with the Zhang family's young talents."

As he finished speaking, three young men emerged from the crowd, each radiating a powerful aura.

Seeing the tense posture of the youths, Zhao Tu stepped forward. "This is the wedding hall—no fighting here. Follow me to the Zhao family's martial arena." He headed west, the crowd following closely behind.

Zhao Tu took a winding path and arrived before a vast plaza, at the center of which stood a massive blue stone platform, three meters high and covering thousands of square meters.

Pointing at the platform, Zhao Tu said, "You may compete here."

Zhang Wenbin moved swiftly, leaping onto the platform. He addressed the three from the Zhao family, "Who among you will face me?"

"Zhao Jun will test your skill," came the reply.

"Please!"

"Please!"

The two clasped hands in greeting and launched themselves at each other.

Zhang Wenbin pushed both palms forward, releasing a surging wave of energy—wild gusts crashed toward Zhao Jun.

Zhao Jun formed a blade with his hand, channeling true energy into it. Two sharp blades of energy coalesced, sparkling with brilliance as they cleaved toward Zhang Wenbin's palms.

The blades struck the energy wave with a thunderous boom, shattering it, but their force remained unabated, continuing toward Zhang Wenbin's hands.

Zhang Wenbin's expression remained unchanged; his palms surged with golden light, smashing into the blades and shattering them with a resounding explosion.

"Zhao Jun truly has remarkable potential—at the ninth stage of Qi Gathering, he's able to contend with a master of the Yin-Yang realm."

"I don't think Zhang Wenbin has shown his true strength yet."

On the platform, the two moved with such speed that afterimages appeared, giving the illusion of dozens battling at once, leaving the spectators dizzy.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Fists and palms collided, unleashing waves of tremendous power that polished the platform until it gleamed like a mirror.

"Nine Consecutive Strikes!"

Zhang Wenbin shouted, his palms whirling like the wind, unleashing nine powerful blows in succession, each stronger than the last, stacking like surging waves.

"Sky-Splitting Nine Slashes!"

Zhao Jun roared, both hands forming blades, slashing nine times in rapid succession. The fierce blades, swift as arrows, struck the wave-like force head-on.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Nine explosive impacts echoed in rapid succession, wild forces crashing outward like raging tides, shaking the blue stone platform with cracking sounds. At the center of the collision, stones erupted, shooting fragments in every direction.

The crowd was forced to retreat. Zhao Tu fired several palm strikes, knocking the flying stones to the ground, restoring order.

The outcome was clear: Zhang Wenbin stood atop the platform, while Zhao Jun lay sprawled on the ground.

The second round saw Zhao Bochao facing Zhang Wu from the Zhang family.

Both unleashed their full power at once, their figures flickering as violent palm and fist energies clashed, erupting with ferocious energy that thundered through the martial arena.

Finally, both palms radiated dazzling light, burning like torches. Their wild strength churned the air into swirling eddies, sweeping outward in all directions.

Though the spectators had retreated far, they could still feel the heart-stopping energy spreading through the air.

Bang!

With a deafening blast, both figures tumbled onto the platform simultaneously.

"This round ends in a draw," Wang Rui announced in a clear voice.

Zhao Heng looked toward the Zhang family's last youth, his expression darkening. He sensed that the young man possessed the strength of the Yin-Yang realm, while his own side's Zhao Da was only at the ninth stage of Qi Gathering—clearly no match.

At that moment, Zhang Yu from the Zhang family leaped onto the platform. He said calmly, "I'm afraid Zhao Da is no match for me. Zhao Hong is destined to lose Wang Yue."

Zhao Da's face turned grim, aware of the overwhelming strength before him and his own slim chances.

"I will test your skills," Liu Feng declared, soaring onto the platform. Now was the perfect opportunity to enter the Zhao family.