A single yuan short, ten million. Qin Fen gently flicked the cash check for nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine yuan.

In the quiet hall, the sound of the check flicking back and forth by Qin Fen cracked loudly. Qin Fen took a deep breath; smashing people with money—he had only heard of such things before, never actually witnessed them.

"So much money." Qin Fen took two steps forward, carefully placing the check on the coffee table: "This could buy a very high-end home in a prime location. It could also allow a person to live comfortably for their entire life, but..." Qin Fen took two steps back, his back ramrod straight: "But, in my view, it doesn't even qualify to buy a single strand of Jiajia's hair." His words were neither subservient nor aggressive, maintaining politeness while holding a man's inherent backbone.

Song Zhenting smiled and said nothing, opening his checkbook again. This time, he tossed Qin Fen a check with eight nines.

It was merely a change of paper, yet the value had increased tenfold. One yuan short of one hundred million!

This could purchase half a mountainside mansion. Simultaneously, one could buy a series of street-front shops in the busiest downtown area, leading a carefree and joyous life thereafter.

"It seems you truly investigated me; I am short on money." Qin Fen shook his head repeatedly, placing this check, capable of driving countless people wild, back onto the coffee table in front of Song Zhenting: "But I did not come here for a check with a string of digits." Song Zhenting calmly began writing a third check. Nine nines, short one yuan of one billion!

This was no longer about simply buying a mountainside mansion; one could probably just beckon a finger and acquire a beautiful female celebrity, living a life better than an emperor. Qin Fen held this "gold mountain," a faint, composed smile on his face that showed neither subservience nor aggression: "Your approach reminds me of a story.

Someone was on a television show. They asked the men in committed relationships present if they would break up with their girlfriends for ten thousand yuan.

Obviously, everyone mocked this question. But as the host mentioned one hundred thousand, one million, ten million—many men wavered.

The host said there is no love that cannot be bought; it’s just that the price wasn't high enough..." Song Zhenting slowly nodded; he had heard this story too. "But I have to say, I'm sorry." Qin Fen bowed politely, once again pushing the billion-yuan check in front of Song Zhenting, his eyes meeting the older man's without a trace of fear: "My love is not for sale, even if you gave me a blank check, the answer would still be the same." Song Zhenting interlaced his fingers, thumbs rotating up and down: "You believe you are worthy of Jiajia?" Qin Feng laughed.

The argument of worthiness again! "Whether I am worthy of Jiajia is not for me to decide; it depends on what Jiajia thinks." Qin Fen retorted coolly, parrying Song Zhenting's words.

Facing his prospective father-in-law, it was a lie to say he felt no pressure. Compared to other young men with backgrounds, Qin Fen knew he was practically starting from nothing; the little money he had wasn't even the tail-end of the first check.

The more this was the case, the more Qin Fen knew he could not show weakness. Having nothing left to lose financially, if he also lost his manly pride, people would only look down on him more.

"I think... this question doesn't need to be asked of Jiajia." Song Zhenting rested his hands on the armrests of the rattan chair, quietly observing Qin Fen: "Let me answer it.

For a woman to marry you, at the very least, you should be able to provide her with a residence, right? Yes, a house.

Do you have one? It doesn't need to be a mountainside mansion, nor a detached villa.

An apartment near the city center would suffice." Saying this, Song Zhenting straightened up, pushing himself up with his arms braced on the armrests, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands supporting his chin as he looked at Qin Fen: "Your savings are less than two hundred thousand. You can't buy even a slightly large apartment downtown, can you?

What can you give Jiajia? You can give her nothing but so-called love—something unseen, unfelt, inedible, unwearable, and unlivable.

Are you going to let her suffer with you? Young man, tell me, is that it?" Song Zhenting's voice was beautiful, possessing a magnetic quality that even broadcasters lacked.

His words, spoken slowly, carried no oppressive weight, launching an attack purely through the logic of reason. Qin Fen stood his ground, inwardly admitting the prospective father-in-law's skill; these few sentences had forced him onto the defensive.

"You are right," Qin Feng raised both arms, slowly opening his palms: "I don't have much money now. I have suffered a lot, done many jobs that you might consider a complete waste of life, but those were the most precious experiences of my life.

They taught me the principles of conduct, letting me know that I can rely on these two hands to create my own future." The ten fingers Qin Fen spread slowly and powerfully clenched into a fist: "I am still young; I possess unlimited potential for development. Since you investigated me, you should know that a few months ago, I lived hand-to-mouth.

Now, after a few months, I have nearly two hundred thousand in savings, so..." "There is no 'so'..." Song Zhenting raised his arm and decisively waved it: "I am quite clear about your means of income—the Sky Battle Net, right? Don't think that just because you conceal your face, no one can find your information.

So, you don't need to lie to me. As you keep winning, fewer people pay to challenge you.

Believe me, the challengers will completely disappear before long." Qin Fen could not refute it; whether Two-Star or Three-Star, fewer challengers appearing was a fact, and the prices they offered were far less than before. As for Four-Star Martial Artists, they were psychologically more mature, and challengers were even rarer.

Now entering the early stage of Meteor Rank, Five-Star, martial artists paying for challenges would truly become extinct. A faint smile touched the corner of Song Zhenting's mouth: "The future is not so easily forged." "Then you should know I still have a Sect," Qin Feng revealed what was almost his last trump card: "Whether through sect challenges or other means, I can still earn money.

Moreover, I can kill terrorists, like the Red Scorpion; once the Federation confirms everything, I can receive a substantial bounty." "Killing terrorists," Song Zhenting nodded in recognition: "Indeed, that is a path to wealth. But it is dangerous, extremely dangerous.

Do you think staking your life is fair to Jiajia? As for your battle net sect, I suspect it will disappear soon enough." "Disappear?" Qin Fen looked at Song Zhenting with great suspicion.

For such a grand master to act against the small Dragon Hall, it would be a disgrace to the Song family. The Dragon Hall would only gain notoriety for attracting such a master.

Even if leveled, the Sky Battle Net was an important source for finding his brother and winning Song Jia. Yet, Song Zhenting managed to cut off his source of income in just a few sentences.

"How about this?" Song Zhenting used his middle and index fingers to press down the three checks he had written earlier, pushing them toward Qin Fen: "Take these three checks and give up Jiajia. I can guarantee I won't touch your Dragon Hall, right?

It's called the Dragon Hall, isn't it?" Qin Fen laughed. Great families were truly formidable!

With a few words, in the span of a finger-snap, a person's entire effort could be crushed into dust. Qin Fen looked at the three checks on the coffee table and laughed heartily.

If this had happened several months ago, facing such threats and temptations, it was hard to say what the final outcome would have been. But now!

Since his body merged with that strange liquid metal, facing challenges—even seemingly impossible ones—instead of wanting to give up, the fighting spirit in his chest only grew higher. "Uncle Song," Qin Fen imitated Song Zhenting, using his middle and index fingers to press down the checks on the coffee table and pushing them back: "Jiajia has already shed tears for me once; I absolutely will not let her cry for me a second time." "Since that is the case..." Song Zhenting's calm eyes suddenly turned sharp.

The next instant, that gaze shot towards Qin Fen, pressing down like two great mountains, suffocating his chest. Icy words followed into his ears: "For Jiajia's sake, I must make you disappear." Song Zhenting hadn't even made a move, yet his soaring momentum instantly filled the entire room.

Qin Fen felt he wasn't facing a man, but an ancient behemoth, an ancient evil capable of stirring hundred-foot waves in the ocean with every move. He felt like a tiny skiff in a tsunami, one casual wave away from being utterly buried deep beneath the sea.

The gap in strength between them was too vast. Qin Fen felt like a kindergarten child facing a world heavyweight boxing champion in front of Song Zhenting.

One second. Two seconds.

Three seconds. Five seconds.

Ten seconds... One minute...

Song Zhenting retracted his aura. He sat back in his seat, picked up a peanut from the dish, and suddenly flicked his wrist.

The peanut, crunched in his mouth, produced a terrifying friction sound against the air, leaving behind a long, visible air current, resembling a bullet fired in slow motion. A bullet propelled by gunpowder explosion in a confined space—what terrifying power!

The peanut Song Zhenting flicked, though not as strong as a real bullet, possessed greater menace than an actual one. Faced with such a sudden attack, almost no young expert would choose a head-on confrontation; evasion was the best method.

Song Zhenting's eyes held a glimmer of expectation, wanting to see Qin Fen's reaction—would he just be a reckless fool? Facing the bullet-like peanut, Qin Fen dared not take any slight.

His right foot stomped down level with his left, his left arm shifted before his abdomen, and his right arm thrust upward from below and inside the left arm in a vertical punch that suddenly burst forth! Hong Quan!

Sky-Shattering Cannon! A sound like a car tire exploding echoed in the air; the peanut, struck by a fist like an anti-aircraft gun, instantly shattered into fragments scattered on the ground.

The explosive force of the Cannon Fist from Hong Quan made even Song Zhenting feel the ground beneath his feet tremble. For the first time, a flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes.

To be able to unleash such spirit and momentum from a fundamental boxing style like Hong Quan at such a young age! Truly rare among the rare.

Of course, that wasn't what truly startled him. That single punch clearly possessed the strength of a Five-Star Martial Artist, yet he had no doubt that if facing a Six-Star Martial Artist, this Five-Star Martial Artist would be the one to win.

The divine essence displayed in that single Sky-Shattering Cannon was something even a Six-Star Martial Artist might not grasp, yet this young man had grasped it and successfully manifested its core essence. Even more remarkable were the two forces contained within that punch.

Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Gong! Golden Bell Shield?

Iron Shirt? No.

Was it the Vajra Indestructible Body? Regarding Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Gong, Song Zhenting was completely certain.

It was the Five-Star Meteor Rank Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Gong. But that wasn't the entirety of the power released by that punch.

Protecting his fist from the True Qi permeating the peanut was not the defensive aspect of Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Gong, but some other protective divine art. Song Zhenting once suspected it was the Golden Bell Shield, but quickly dismissed that guess.

He also dismissed the guess of the Iron Shirt. What about the Vajra Indestructible Body, one of the supreme ancient martial arts protective arts?

Song Zhenting still couldn't fully confirm this judgment. In that instant, Song Zhenting indeed felt the aura of the Golden Bell Shield, also sensing the Iron Shirt, and even the aura of the Vajra Indestructible Body.

But whichever aura it was, none of them seemed pure, feeling instead like all ancient martial arts protective arts had been merged together. Merging all protective arts together?

Song Zhenting dared not imagine such a thing happening. As someone from a martial arts lineage, he understood far better that every protective divine art possessed its unique qualities, and they were almost entirely incompatible with each other.

This was why people who cultivated protective divine arts only needed to choose one, rather than two or more. Because cultivating more would be useless; only one could be used in combat.

The protective divine art Song Zhenting cultivated was the Earth Vajra Body, created by the Earth Martial God Song Wendong, who, with his Grandmaster-level martial arts insight, forcefully merged the Golden Bell Shield, the Iron Shirt, the Continuous Thirteen Taibao, and the Purple Sun True Form! Song Zhenting held immense pride in this Earth Vajra Body.

Even merging two protective divine arts was rare in the world; his protective art was a merger of four ancient martial arts protective arts, and Song Wendong had evaluated its power to be above the Vajra Indestructible Body. But just now, Song Zhenting felt that the protective art on Qin Fen seemed very messy.

It appeared unmerged, yet also seemed to be undergoing fusion—but a fusion that was chaotic and disorderly. "You..." Song Zhenting gazed intently at Qin Fen.

He suddenly realized his investigation of Qin Fen had been insufficient. How could a poor young man possibly have access to levels beyond the third stage of Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Gong?