At dawn the next day, Zhuge Xiang and Li Bin stood facing each other in the Asura Sect's martial arena. Today was the day of their formal duel. Neither of them had any real reputation within the sect, so only a handful of early risers had gathered—disciples who had come to train and stopped out of idle curiosity.
To them, two people who hadn't comprehended Qi Jin yet were no different from ordinary practitioners throwing punches. What could such a duel possibly mean?
"Zhuge Xiang, today I'll make sure you lose miserably…" Li Bin sneered, staring at him with full confidence.
But as he took in Zhuge Xiang's calm expression, doubt flickered in his eyes. Zhuge Xiang had clearly drunk the spirit fruit pulp laced with Duanchang Powder right in front of him yesterday. By now, the poison should have weakened his limbs and muddled his senses. Why wasn't there any sign of it?
"Use whatever skills you've got. I'm curious to see what Zhao Feiyun actually taught you. A loser like you still dares bark at me?" Zhuge Xiang didn't even spare Li Bin's threats a glance. If victory depended on shouting, what need was there for training?
His indifference made Li Bin's eyebrows twitch violently. What he hated most was Zhuge Xiang's dismissive, aloof attitude. His voice sharpened with anger. "You know what disgusts me most? That look of contempt of yours. Every time I see it, it makes me want to crush you under my feet."
"Contempt?" Zhuge Xiang let out a faint, mocking smile. "If you want respect, that depends on you. You can't comprehend Qi Jin, yet you strut around every day. You treat Niu Geng's loyalty like a flaw and pretend you're clever. Tell me—what exactly is there to admire in you?"
"You bastard! I'll kill you!" Unable to refute a single word, Li Bin exploded in rage and charged forward, his footwork strange and unpredictable.
Zhuge Xiang focused sharply. His hand opened into the form of the Clear Wave Palm, striking out like a venomous serpent toward Li Bin's chest.
But though his understanding of Ghost Walk was shallow, Li Bin's footwork still showed results. At the critical moment, he shifted, body swaying, narrowly slipping past the strike.
A murmur rippled through the small crowd.
They had expected two ordinary fighters, but Li Bin's evasive movement was anything but simple. That dodge wasn't luck—his footwork was clearly extraordinary.
"Heh. I may not have Qi Jin, but I've practiced the Thirty-Six Steps of Nether Walk over a thousand times these past days. Touching even the hem of my clothes will be impossible for you." The onlookers' reactions inflated Li Bin's vanity. He moved unpredictably, reveling in his own momentum.
Seeing Li Bin flit about like a butterfly weaving through flowers, Zhuge Xiang frowned. Ghost Walk might be incomplete in Li Bin's hands, but its agility alone was troublesome. Six or seven strikes later, Zhuge Xiang still hadn't landed a hit.
The watchers buzzed with excitement—half admiring Li Bin's footwork, half concluding that Zhuge Xiang was as good as finished.
Yet while Zhuge Xiang was troubled by Li Bin's Ghost Walk, Li Bin was equally perplexed. Why hadn't the Duanchang Powder taken effect? With exertion, the blood should circulate faster—accelerating the poison. But Zhuge Xiang showed no abnormality at all.
"What? Is that all Zhao Feiyun taught you—jumping around like a monkey?" Zhuge Xiang taunted.
The jab cut deeper than any strike. Li Bin gritted his teeth. He intended to wait until the poison activated before finishing the fight, but with Ghost Walk at his disposal, he believed he had already secured victory—poison or not.
Pushing aside his doubts, he slid into Ghost Walk, vanishing briefly before appearing behind Zhuge Xiang. His fist shot out like lightning. "I wanted to play with you longer, but since you insist—go greet the King of Hell!"
Zhuge Xiang didn't even turn. Li Bin's punch slammed heavily into his back. The dull thud echoed like a drum. Color drained from Zhuge Xiang's face as his organs trembled from the impact.
Li Bin's lips curled smugly—then froze.
Zhuge Xiang's palm appeared before him out of nowhere, striking from an impossible angle.
Li Bin's pupils shrank. Impossible! How had Zhuge Xiang kept up with Ghost Walk?
"You've lost." Zhuge Xiang's cold voice sounded beside him as the palm landed on his chest. One strike flowed into the next, a relentless chain.
Ghost Walk relied on unpredictability. Clear Wave Palm relied on continuity.
Though Clear Wave Palm had few movements, once the first strike connected, the sequence poured out like mercury flowing down stone—unbroken, unstoppable. Being caught in the first hit was like being ensnared in invisible threads.
And while Zhuge Xiang still lacked Qi Jin and had only grasped the technique's form, Li Bin also lacked Qi Jin entirely. Once caught, he could only be dragged along by the cascading attacks.
"No… This is a full palm set! Impossible! How could he have learned a full martial art!?" Even an idiot would have recognized it by now. Anyone without Qi Jin was forbidden from practicing martial arts in the Asura Sect.
And yet here was Zhuge Xiang—unleashing a complete set.
Just as Zhuge Xiang had said… Li Bin's defeat was sealed the moment his fist struck him—or even earlier, the moment he was hit by that first palm.
Ghost Walk was slippery, and Clear Wave Palm was overwhelming, but only if it landed. Zhuge Xiang had deliberately provoked him, gambling that he could trade injury for the chance to land the initial strike.
If he failed, the fight would be over. If he succeeded, victory was guaranteed.
He had gambled—and won.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
One palm after another rained down. All twenty-four movements completed without pause. Li Bin couldn't counterattack—he couldn't even escape. After taking more than twenty blows, he spat blood and collapsed on the arena floor.
"You… didn't you drink the spirit fruit pulp with Duanchang Powder…? Why…?" Li Bin coughed blood, his voice faint. He had seen the poison sprinkled with his own eyes. Zhuge Xiang had drunk it right in front of him. How could nothing have happened?
But his injuries were severe. Before Zhuge Xiang could respond, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.
Spirit fruit pulp… Duanchang Powder…?
Zhuge Xiang frowned.
"He won? I guess anyone who dares accept a challenge must have something up his sleeve. One has footwork, the other has palm arts…" The surrounding disciples murmured in surprise. Zhuge Xiang's victory overturned their expectations. Only now did they understand why he had dared accept the duel.
Below the arena, Niu Geng grinned from ear to ear, genuinely happy to see Zhuge Xiang win.
"Defeated Li Bin, an ordinary person. Gained 11 experience points. Level breakthrough. Current level: 1. Gained 1 skill point."
As Li Bin lay unconscious, the mechanical voice rang out again. A surge of energy coursed through Zhuge Xiang's exhausted body—like fresh spring water flowing into a barren field. He felt a thin stream of Qi emerge, running lightly through his meridians, sweeping away his fatigue. The system's voice momentarily pushed aside all thoughts of poison.
Hu… hu…
Standing in the arena, Zhuge Xiang's coarse clothes fluttered without wind. His black hair lifted slightly. A faint aura spread outward from him—weak, but unmistakable.
"Qi Jin! He's comprehended Qi Jin—in the middle of battle!" gasps erupted from the crowd, eyes filled with envy.
"Qi Jin… this is Qi Jin… I finally succeeded." Zhuge Xiang clenched his fists, sensing the flow of energy within. After a year of grinding effort, he had finally achieved it. With Qi Jin in his body, he would soon become an official disciple of the Asura Sect.