Chapter 70

Fei Fen moved first, her body a blur as she unleashed a flurry of kicks aimed straight at Li Zhameng. He dodged cautiously, his movements deliberate as he weaved away from her strikes, but the relentless onslaught continued. Fei Fen transitioned seamlessly, her palms flashing forward in a series of sharp strikes. A few hit their mark, sending shockwaves through Li Zhameng's body and almost knocking him out of the ring.

From the sidelines, Xue Laohu watched with growing anxiety, his fan pressed against his lips as he chewed on its corner. His eyes darted between the combatants, his expression clouded with worry. Meng Meng, you can't stay on the defense forever, he thought, frustration bubbling beneath his calm facade as he gripped the fan tighter. His disciple was struggling, and it was painful to watch.

Fei Fen's next strike landed squarely on Li Zhameng's chest with a resounding thud, forcing a violent cough from him as blood splattered onto the floor. He staggered, his steps unsteady, yet still, he hadn't raised a hand to strike back. Not once. Fei Fen's movements slowed as she frowned, irritation flickering across her face like a shadow.

"Li Shixiong," she said, her voice tinged with disappointment. "This is boring." She sighed audibly, her arms lowering slightly. "I don't want you to let me win like this."

But her momentary hesitation didn't last. She pressed forward again, her punches sharp and unrelenting, breaking through Li Zhameng's defenses. His blocks grew weaker with each blow, his arms trembling under the strain. Bruises bloomed across his body, stark against his pale skin, yet he still refused to fight back, his resolve inscrutable even as his body bore the brunt of her relentless attacks.

Elder Yanse picked up a delicate porcelain cup of tea, her slender fingers curling around the cup as she brought it to her nose. Her lips twisted into a disdainful sneer as she inhaled the aroma. "Is this truly the best Grandmaster Xue can produce?" she scoffed, her tone dripping with cold derision. The words cut through the air like shards of ice, her disdain clear in every syllable.

Xue Laohu turned toward her, his expression darkening with barely concealed contempt. His gaze lingered on her briefly before shifting back to the arena. If only she knew, he thought bitterly, Li Zhameng is no warrior, just a fragile NPC in a world that was never designed for him to fight. And yet, here he was, enduring blow after blow, refusing to fall.

Xue Laohu's eyes softened despite himself as he watched the battle unfold. Fei Fen moved like a storm, her strikes relentless, her agility unmatched. Each swift blow chipped away at Li Zhameng's defenses, his body visibly wilting under the strain. His bruised and battered form was a testament to her merciless determination. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Xue Laohu shouted, his voice ringing with desperation. "Meng Meng!"

Li Zhameng staggered, blood dripping from the corner of his lips as he wiped it away with the back of his trembling hand. He tilted his head, his good eye searching the stands until it found his Shizun. One eye was swollen shut, a grotesque purple-black bruise encasing it, but his other eye trembled as it locked onto the worried figure calling his name.

Xue Laohu stood with his hands clasped tightly together, his face etched with anguish. "Meng Meng!" he called again, his voice breaking. "Please, win for me!"

Li Zhameng's vision blurred, not from pain, but from the whirlwind of emotions that surged within him. His mind spun, imagination taking hold as his Shizun's voice echoed in his ears. In that moment, the battle faded away, and his world was transformed.

He envisioned his Shizun trapped in a dark, fiery lair, flames licking at the edges of a jagged cliff. His Shizun stood there, ethereal and radiant, calling out to him with sorrowful, pleading eyes. "Meng Meng, please, for me," were the only words Li Zhameng could hear, reverberating like a sacred mantra. His Shizun's hands were clasped together in a prayer-like gesture, his face full of sorrow, as if he were begging for salvation.

A fire ignited within Li Zhameng's chest, a blazing determination that burned away his pain. He had to rescue his Shizun—there was no other option. In his mind, he became a valiant warrior, cutting down monstrous enemies one after another, his hands flashing like lightning. He pictured himself emerging from the inferno, victorious, and cradling his Shizun in his arms.

He imagined wiping the tears from his Shizun's delicate cheeks, his thumb lingering on soft, trembling lips. His Shizun, overwhelmed with relief, would gift him a tender, princess-like kiss that would heal all his wounds. The image grew vivid, his Shizun's arms wrapping around his neck, his voice breaking into soft whimpers, "Meng Meng," repeated over and over, a plea that resonated like music in Li Zhameng's ears.

Li Zhameng could almost hear himself whisper back, "Shizun, this disciple will never allow those monsters to capture you again." His hands would cup his Shizun's face with gentle reverence, brushing away the last remnants of fear. Their lips would meet again, a kiss that promised protection and devotion. When they parted, his Shizun's cheeks would flush a soft pink, his lips quivering as he whispered his name once more: "Meng Meng."

The imagined voice grew louder, breaking through the fantasy like a clap of thunder. "WAKE UP!"

Reality crashed back in as Li Zhameng gasped, his battered body trembling. The fire in his heart reignited, his determination unwavering. For his Shizun—whether real or imagined—he would fight. He would win. No matter the cost.

Li Zhameng raised his arm just in time to block a kick aimed at his head, the impact jarring him back into reality. The sharp sting coursing through his forearm grounded him, pulling him out of the vivid daydream that had consumed him moments ago. His gaze snapped to the stands, locking onto his Shizun. Xue Laohu was still there, his knuckles white as they gripped the wooden rails. His pleading eyes were exactly as Li Zhameng had envisioned—brimming with worry, desperation, and something unspoken that lit a fire deep within Li Zhameng's chest.

Clenching his teeth, Li Zhameng let out a guttural growl, the frustration and determination melding into raw power. He pivoted sharply, channeling all his strength into a devastating palm strike that landed squarely on Fei Fen's face. The force sent her hurtling backward, flipping through the air like a ragdoll. Yet, even as she hurtled toward the edge of the ring, her agility proved unmatched. With a graceful twist, she regained her balance just before the boundary, her feet skidding to a halt.

"That's what I'm talking about!" she shouted, spitting out a thick glob of blood onto the ground. Her eyes glinted with a wild excitement, the metallic taste of blood fueling her adrenaline. "Hit me!" she screamed, charging forward.

This time, Li Zhameng met her head-on, his fists flying with renewed ferocity. Each punch carried the weight of his determination, his strikes no longer hesitant but purposeful. The fire in his heart burned brighter than ever, his sole focus on victory—not for himself, but for his Shizun. His eyes smoldered with intensity as he dodged a series of kicks from Fei Fen, countering with a powerful punch to her abdomen.

Fei Fen stumbled back, clutching her midsection. She shook her head to clear it, her two uneven buns bouncing wildly with the motion. Strands of loose hair clung to her sweat-slicked face, which was now dotted with fresh bruises. Her lips twisted into a grin, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as she steadied herself.

Switching tactics, she raised her hands into a defensive stance, catching Li Zhameng's incoming kick. With surprising strength, she gripped his ankle tightly and swung him like a pendulum, her intent clear—she meant to throw him out of the arena entirely. Li Zhameng's body twisted midair, and in a desperate move, he dug his nails into the floorboards, scraping against the wood until he managed to stop himself just shy of the boundary line.

Fei Fen charged again, her movements a blur of speed and precision, forcing Li Zhameng into a backward flip. Her kick narrowly missed its mark, the air between them humming with tension.

Both fighters paused, their chests heaving as they stared each other down. Sweat dripped from their brows, exhaustion beginning to take its toll. Yet, neither was willing to yield.

"I didn't think I'd have to use this," Fei Fen panted, her voice tinged with amusement and exhaustion. A sly grin spread across her face as she formed her hands into an inverted rhombus shape.

From the stands, Xue Laohu stiffened. His sharp gaze flicked to Elder Yanse, who had been watching the fight with smug satisfaction. But now, her smirk had vanished, replaced with a displeased twitch of her nose. Xue Laohu's brow furrowed. There must be a drawback to this technique, he thought, unease settling in his stomach as he watched Fei Fen unleash a surge of spiritual energy.

The arena trembled violently as her power erupted. The ground quaked beneath their feet, sending rocks and debris spiraling into the air. In the rafters above, Xiao Zongzi, the spider demon, scuttled down her silk web, dropping onto Shudu's shoulder for safety. Birds perched on the surrounding trees scattered in alarm, their cries of fear cutting through the chaos.

The spectators stared in awe as Fei Fen's body shimmered, her spiritual energy forming two identical figures beside her. She had split herself into three. The three Fei Fens stood in perfect synchronization, their movements fluid, their energy ominously potent.

Yi Ming's jaw dropped as he leaned forward from his seat. What the hell…he thought to himself. He rubbed his eyes as if trying to dispel the illusion. This is something out of a TV show. People can split themselves into three now? Ugh, why am I even surprised? Demons exist in this world, so I guess this shouldn't be that shocking. He frowned, crossing his arms. Still, how is this even remotely fair? Poor Li Zhameng has to fight three of her now.

His gaze shifted to Shudu, who sat unbothered, casually munching on a pear as if the battle before them were a minor inconvenience. Shudu's relaxed demeanor was infuriatingly out of place, especially as the ground continued to quake. Xue Laohu's eyes wandered, searching for someone else with a reaction.

He spotted Xue Tuzi standing behind one of the towering pillars, his arms crossed, his expression stoic but his eyes locked onto the fight with unwavering intensity. Around him, the other disciples lounged on the benches, utterly disinterested in the unfolding chaos. Only Xue Tuzi and Elder Yanse's disciples watched with keen, hawk-like attention, their gazes sharp and unrelenting.

Li Zhameng was surrounded. All three Fei Fens pressed him with relentless attacks, their strikes coming from every angle. They moved in unison, each one a mirror of the other, their fists and feet driving toward him with frightening precision. Li Zhameng gritted his teeth, blocking as much as he could while trying to find an opening, but the sheer number of strikes made it impossible to keep up. Sweat poured down his face, and his arms ached from the constant impact. He was losing ground—slowly but surely.

From the sidelines, Xue Laohu's anxiety was obvious. He gnawed on the edge of his fan, the fabric fraying under his teeth as his worry consumed him. His gaze never left his disciple, his heart racing with each blow Li Zhameng narrowly dodged.

"Relax," Shudu's calm voice cut through the tension like a blade. The corner of his lips curled into a faint smirk as he plucked a piece of pear and gently placed it into Jiao Jiao's tiny mouth. The little Gu worm greedily devoured the offering, its iridescent body curling in satisfaction. Meanwhile, Xiao Zongzi, perched on Shudu's shoulder, scuttled down the length of his arm. The spider demon began spinning an intricate web along the wooden rails, eventually dangling down to get a better view of the fight below.

"Ugh," Xue Laohu groaned in frustration, running his hands through his hair and tugging at it as if the physical act could dispel his nerves. His fan dropped to his lap, forgotten for the moment, as he leaned over the rail to watch the battle more closely. Li Zhameng was being overwhelmed. The three Fei Fens moved with alarming speed, their combined presence an almost insurmountable force.

In the arena, Li Zhameng's breath came in ragged gasps. He ducked under one punch, sidestepped a kick, and raised his arms to block another blow. The trio of Fei Fens giggled in eerie unison, their voices light and mocking.

"You can't defeat us, Li Shixiong," they chimed together, their tones teasing as they pressed him harder.

Li Zhameng's mind raced. There has to be a way, he thought, his eyes darting between his three opponents. He began to notice something—a crack in their seemingly perfect technique. Their strikes weren't as strong as when Fei Fen fought alone. In fact, their punches and kicks lacked the power she had shown before splitting into three. That was the only reason he was still standing. While their coordination was difficult to keep up with, their individual strength had diminished significantly.

The realization sparked a flicker of hope. If I can take one of them out, he reasoned, the others might follow. His resolve hardened. He couldn't let his Shizun down.

He stole a glance at the stands, and his breath caught. Xue Laohu stood tall against the backdrop of the swirling wind, his robes billowing around him like the waves of a restless sea. His bangs swept across his forehead, and his intense gaze remained fixed on Li Zhameng. The sight sent a surge of warmth through Li Zhameng's chest. His cheeks flushed, and he clenched his fists.

For Shizun.

With renewed determination, Li Zhameng charged forward, his movements precise and deliberate. One Fei Fen lunged at him with a punch, but he stepped down hard on her outstretched arm, pinning her to the ground. Another Fei Fen swung a kick toward his ribs, but he twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike. His focus zeroed in on the third Fei Fen, who had left herself open. With a guttural shout, he delivered a devastating palm strike, his energy pouring into the blow.

The force sent her flying out of the arena, her body crashing into the far wall with enough impact to leave a crater. Dust and debris scattered as her form slumped to the ground. Almost immediately, the other two Fei Fens shimmered and dissolved into streaks of light, reuniting with the one that had been thrown out of bounds. The crowd erupted into cheers, their thunderous applause shaking the stands.

On the sidelines, Fei Hong rushed to her sister's side, helping her to her feet as she coughed and winced. Meanwhile, Elder Yanse's frown deepened, her expression darkening with displeasure as she crossed her arms and sat stiffly in her seat.

But Xue Laohu's reaction was anything but reserved. He leaped up from his spot, his fan snapping open as he waved it exuberantly in the air. "LI ZHA-MENG! LI ZHA-MENG!" he chanted, his voice ringing above the roar of the crowd. His excitement got the better of him, and in his frenzy, he leaned too far over the rail. The wooden edge creaked ominously before giving way slightly, sending Xue Laohu tumbling forward.

"Shizun!" Li Zhameng called out, his reflexes kicking in. With a powerful leap, he bounded up to the stands and caught Xue Laohu mid-fall. Xue Laohu landed in his disciple's arms, cradled like a delicate princess.

Xue Laohu blinked, momentarily stunned before color flooded his face. "Put me down!" he snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Li Zhameng grinned, his arms tightening just slightly. "Not until Shizun promises to be more careful," he teased, his tone light.

The crowd roared again, their cheers echoing through the arena as Xue Laohu's flustered protests blended into the noise. For that moment, all the exhaustion, all the pain, seemed to fade away. Li Zhameng had won—not just the fight, but his Shizun's proud, and exasperated, smile.