Chapter Sixteen: Forcing Entry into the Mountain Gate, Strolling Through the Dragon's Lair and Tiger's Den

“Ah?!”

The young hostess was momentarily stunned by Ye Beidou’s words, her mind briefly blank as she stood frozen, unsure how to respond.

In that instant of hesitation, Ye Beidou strode past her, heading deeper into the sports center.

Only then did the hostess snap back to her senses and tried to stop him, but seeing Ye Beidou’s tall frame and seemingly troubled state of mind, she dared not approach.

Helpless, she pulled out the walkie-talkie at her waist.

“Brother Qin, someone’s causing trouble, but he doesn’t seem mentally stable. Just subdue him, try not to hurt him.”

“Understood,” came a man’s voice over the radio.

The commotion attracted many passing members who stopped and glanced toward Ye Beidou, whispering and watching the unfolding spectacle.

Many knew the ins and outs of this sports center—causing a ruckus here was like storming a den of tigers.

“Sir, this is a members-only area. Please leave,” five burly men in suits rushed out from a side room and blocked Ye Beidou’s path.

Ye Beidou said nothing and continued forward.

“Seems like he’s got some mental issues. Subdue him first,” the leader snorted coldly.

The five immediately spread out in a fan shape, surrounding Ye Beidou. They moved swiftly and skillfully, clearly trained in combat.

However—

Suddenly, everyone’s vision blurred. Ye Beidou’s figure seemed to teleport, already slipping past the five security guards’ encirclement and continuing onward.

The five suited men stood frozen in place as if rooted to the ground.

Half a second later—

Thud! Thud!

They all collapsed to the floor, breathing evenly as if asleep.

Ye Beidou disappeared down a side corridor.

The crowd in the hall fell silent, then erupted into murmurs after a long pause.

No one had seen exactly what had happened or how the five guards had been taken down.

Witchcraft?!

The hostess was stunned for a while before recalling Ye Beidou’s earlier words and realizing the situation might be grave. She hurriedly grabbed the walkie-talkie.

“Manager Luo, someone’s breaking into the center. He says he’s here to challenge us. The security can’t stop him—he took them all down in an instant!”

Meanwhile—

At Qingmu Xinyi’s training ground—

This was an open courtyard with a quaint, antique architectural style preserved amid modern buildings, retaining features from the Republic of China era over a hundred years ago. The ground was paved with blue stones, spanning over a hundred meters in diameter.

At the center stood a towering locust tree, its crown lush and its trunk thick and pale green, wide enough for five men to encircle.

Majestic and unmoving, it seemed like the heart of the earth, gathering the spirit of the land, truly mysterious.

Being near this giant tree refreshed the mind and spirit, like bathing in a sacred spring or drinking sweet nectar.

Here, both man and tree were extraordinary.

This locust was a rare species among trees, naturally emanating a magnetic field that calmed the mind and nurtured true spirit.

Locust trees are said to harbor spirits—wood infused with ghostly essence, traditionally used to trap ghosts and refine yin energy.

Legend has it that the founding master of Qingmu Xinyi discovered this extraordinary tree deep in the mountains, observed its spirit, and imitated its essence to create the Qingmu Xinyi Fist.

This giant tree was the very root of the entire Qingmu Xinyi school.

At this moment, many disciples clad in blue martial arts uniforms were seated cross-legged on the blue-stone ground, and Li Qingdai was among them.

Beneath the great locust tree stood a tea table with three rosewood armchairs.

Seated in the main chair was a man whose age was hard to discern. His face appeared no older than his early thirties, with a healthy complexion, yet his hair and even his eyebrows were white.

He was Mu Huaidong, head of Qingmu Xinyi.

On the guest seats were two men: one around forty, round-faced and smiling warmly like a Buddha statue; the other an older man in his fifties or sixties, thin but with thick, fiery eyebrows, clearly hot-tempered.

The former was Tang Zhihe, master of Liuyang Yiqi, and the latter Wu Xianjue, master of Wuhuo Lianzhen.

Among the many martial arts schools in Han Province, Qingmu Xinyi, Liuyang Yiqi, and Wuhuo Lianzhen were the three strongest and most influential.

In the open training area, two young men about twenty-five or twenty-six faced each other, adopting their respective stances.

One had sharp brows and bright eyes, a square face, tall build, and an intense gaze. His stance was like a towering tree rooted deep into the ground, his center of gravity anchored as if unshakable.

He was Wei Ziren, senior disciple of Qingmu Xinyi.

Opposite him stood a lean youth with clearly defined muscles, explosive as steel wires. His eyes burned fiercely, and his hands, elbows, and knees protruded like blades.

He was Yin Xingjie, senior disciple of Wuhuo Lianzhen.

“Brother Ziren, watch out!” Yin Xingjie shouted, launching himself forward with lightning speed and fiery force.

Boom!

At the instant of attack, the guttural breath and the sharp sound of movement merged like an explosion of gunpowder.

The Wuhuo Lianzhen Fist focused on five internal organs; once internalized, it ignited five blazing fires within the body, greatly enhancing all bodily functions.

With his palm like a blade, he struck down!

The palm sliced like a sharp edge, the elbow like a knife!

The core disciples of Qingmu Xinyi watching below, all experts themselves, gasped softly at the sheer ferocity of the move.

Had they been on the field, a blow to the joints like that would have severed limbs.

Yet Wei Ziren’s face remained calm as he raised his powerful arm to block squarely.

Boom!

Flesh and blood collided with a thunderous sound, sweat sprayed and vaporized like mist.

Wei Ziren stood firm, rooted like a grand tree.

The wind shook a hundred branches on the great tree.

“Good!”

Yin Xingjie roared fiercely, his short hair standing on end, his entire aura menacing.

He moved with astonishing agility; every palm, elbow, and knee strike emitted a sharp crack through the air, dazzling the Qingmu Xinyi disciples who struggled to keep up with his rhythm.

Yet despite the relentless assault, Wei Ziren stood steady and responded with measured composure.

“Hah!”

After more than ten exchanges, Wei Ziren suddenly seized an opening and shouted, his eyes ablaze with spirit as he unleashed a powerful aura.

Rooted to the earth, a giant tree towering to the sky.

In that instant, Yin Xingjie felt an unshakable conviction emanating from Wei Ziren. His spirit faltered, his attacks slowed, and a flaw emerged.

Wei Ziren’s arms, like ancient tree roots, coiled around Yin Xingjie’s arms, locking his vital points.

Stepping firmly, twisting his waist, and exerting force—

Yin Xingjie lost his balance, soaring into the air and being hurled over ten or twenty meters. He tumbled several times before regaining his footing, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Fist intent shocks the soul—Spirit Realm?!”

The other two masters exclaimed in surprise.

“Pardon me, my disciple has been cultivating quietly in the mountains and has finally made some breakthroughs,” Mu Huaidong said with a satisfied smile.

“Brother Mu, you’ve taken in a fine disciple. He’s only twenty-six or twenty-seven and has grasped the essence of the Spirit Realm. If he reaches the Soul-Seizing Realm by thirty-five, he might glimpse the path to becoming a Saint of the Flesh,” Wu Xianjue remarked wistfully.

“Among the young martial artists in Han Province, few are stronger than Ziren,” Tang Zhihe nodded in agreement.

“If he reaches the Soul-Seizing Realm and inherits my legacy, I’ll be content. As for becoming a Saint of the Flesh, that realm is no ordinary feat. Many have reached Soul-Seizing, but few become saints. It depends on fate and opportunity, not mere effort,” Mu Huaidong shook his head in understanding, as one who himself had reached Soul-Seizing.

“Truly worthy of being senior brother. To reach the Spirit Realm at such a young age, perhaps our Qingmu Xinyi school will produce its second Saint of the Flesh,” a cute female disciple beside Li Qingdai said starry-eyed.

Wei Ziren held a high place in the hearts of the female disciples. Handsome, steady, strong, and caring toward his juniors, he was seen as a perfect man and a likely heir to Qingmu Xinyi’s legacy.

Li Qingdai nodded, her eyes filled with admiration as she looked toward the tall figure standing before them.

At that moment—

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Mu Huaidong’s phone suddenly rang. It was set to emergency mode—only important calls could come through.

“Hello? What urgent matter is this?”

He apologized to the two masters beside him and answered the call.

“Master, bad news. Someone has come to challenge us, forcibly breaking into the center. Our security can’t stop him. He’s about to reach the training ground…”

The voice on the other end was chaotic, followed by a heavy thud and then silence.

What?!

Mu Huaidong’s expression turned stunned, and the other two masters shared his disbelief.

“I’ve heard this place holds relics of the Saints of the Flesh. I’ve come to seek them,” a thunderous voice boomed from beyond the training ground’s gate.

Boom!

With a tremendous crash, the heavy courtyard gate burst open.