As the cheers of the crowd rose, He Yiming’s expression shifted slightly. They had come intending to watch others fight, but unexpectedly found themselves drawn into the fray.

Regardless of their personal desires, under the circumstances, they were left with no choice. He Yixuan swept his sleeve, letting out a crisp, resounding whistle of displaced air that was clearly audible even above the general clamor.

Then, without a word, he strode forward. The crowd directly ahead immediately scrambled backward in panic, clearing a wide path leading to the fighting platform for him.

He Yiming had no recourse but to follow his elder brother to the edge of the leitai. He paused slightly, noticing another youth whose attire was remarkably similar to Xu Yucai’s.

This young man’s features bore an uncanny resemblance to Xu Yucai’s, making it immediately clear they shared a blood tie. He Yixuan also paused, then chuckled, “Brother Xu Yude, I see you are here as well.” The young man’s face broke into a calm, indifferent smile.

“Brother Yixuan, why do I not see Brother He Yitian?” He Yixuan let out a dry laugh. “If Elder Brother were present, Brother Xu likely wouldn’t dare suggest a match, would he?” Xu Yude’s face darkened slightly.

He said coldly, “Brother Yixuan, mind your tongue. Do not speak carelessly.” He Yixuan smiled playfully.

“So, you mean Brother Xu intends to challenge my Elder Brother?” Xu Yude’s face turned ashen, tinged almost green at the edges. His tone grew icy.

“Brother Yixuan, let’s forgo this battle of words. We shall settle things on the leitai.” He Yixuan laughed several times heartily and stepped boldly onto the platform.

As he ascended, the cheers from below intensified. Moreover, He Yiming clearly heard many voices shouting the names of the Xu and He families.

Evidently, nearly everyone in Taicang County knew of the two great families and recognized the youths on the platform as the third generation of those houses. Thus, the fervor displayed by the crowd was far more intense than during the previous match.

Seeing the eldest son of the Xu family display such an expression before his Third Brother, He Yiming felt a surge of complex emotion. His Elder Brother was truly worthy of being the sole Seventh Layer Internal Strength master among the younger generation of the three great families.

This Xu Yude, upon hearing his Elder Brother’s name, dared not even utter a challenge. However, a memory of the previous night—the conversation Grandpa had in his room before they left—caused He Yiming’s vigilance to spike again.

If Elder Brother were absent, and if Xu Yucai managed to defeat Third Brother, the Xu family’s prestige would certainly soar, while the He family would suffer a loss of face. He snorted inwardly, yet as his gaze fell upon the leitai, he couldn't help but subtly furrow his brow.

Although Third Brother had defeated opponents before, and both men currently stood at the Sixth Layer of Internal Strength cultivation, He Yiming simply had a distinct feeling that Third Brother seemed a fraction weaker than his opponent. In truth, He Yiming should not have possessed such discerning insight, but his spiritual intuition was extraordinarily sharp.

Merely observing the footwork and presentation of the two men on the platform gave him an obscure premonition of the inevitable outcome. At this moment, the two on the leitai stood on a direct line, measuring each other up.

They were not engaging in the immediate flurry of kicks and punches seen in the match between Xiao Leng and the other, as if bound by some mortal enmity from the start. These two skilled young representatives of rival houses tacitly occupied opposite corners of the platform, from their bodies slowly rising an invisible, intangible energy that nevertheless possessed the ability to influence others.

This aura drifted slowly through the air, gradually expanding beyond the confines of the platform. Internal Strength cultivation generally focuses on physical nurturing up to the Fifth Layer; without accompanying combat techniques, one cannot form a true aura.

But once cultivation breaks through to the Sixth Layer, one can manipulate the Internal Strength to generate a field of presence capable of affecting the surrounding space. Naturally, the strength of this presence field is tied not only to the depth of one's Internal Strength but also to the cultivation methods practiced and the individual's current state.

The intentional projection of the aura field by two Sixth Layer Internal Strength practitioners facing off was enough to impose a heavy sense of suppression and dread on those within a certain radius. He Yiming’s brow lifted slightly.

His skin instantly tightened. Upon sensing this influx of energy, his mind immediately began simulating the movements of the two men on the platform, even stirring a sudden, impulsive urge to take their place.

In reality, given He Yiming’s current level of Internal Strength, the two fields of presence could not truly affect him. The issue was He Yiming’s profound lack of practical combat experience; thus, the initial shock of their auras made his own spirit restless and eager.

However, this impulse lasted only a fleeting moment before he forcefully suppressed it. An impact of this magnitude was nothing to him.

Xu Yude, standing not far from him, cast him a surprised glance, then frowned slightly, seemingly lost in thought. Meanwhile, those near the edge of the crowd below the platform had long forgotten about cheering; they were uniformly retreating backward.

Soon, only He Yiming and Xu Yude remained near the platform's perimeter. Usually, at such roadside leitai contests, the surroundings would be packed tight, especially the area right beside the platform, which was prime, highly coveted real estate.

But now, the scene was unnaturally deserted. This space abruptly cleared.

The shouting crowd gradually quieted, everyone noticing the peculiar strangeness unfolding here. A suffocating atmosphere began to spread through the masses, seemingly discouraging even the impulse to speak.

Only then did the onlookers vaguely grasp that the fighters previously seen here were utterly unworthy to even carry the shoes of these true lineage disciples. Everyone felt a secret relief; finally, they were witnessing a genuine clash between masters.

Suddenly, the two figures on the platform moved. When motionless, they resembled the clay Buddhas in a temple, radiating a heart-stopping majesty that even the ordinary people below felt as a weighty pressure.

But as they began to move, that heavy pressure subtly receded. Yet, there was still very little cheering from below, because the speed of the two men’s actions had reached a level that rendered ordinary eyes incapable of following.

Their only coherent thought was, How can these two move so fast? He Yixuan was still employing the Rippling Wave Technique combined with the Soft Palm—a Water-elemental technique widely circulated among practitioners.

Because so many practiced it, the technique possessed virtually no fatal flaws, provided one had a suitable physique and dedicated sufficient effort. As his Soft Palm deployed, his body became enveloped in illusory palm shadows, seemingly cloaking him entirely.

His opponent, Xu Yucai, was surprisingly a rare cultivator of a Metal-elemental technique. His attacks were expansive and broad, brimming with sheer power, yet He Yiming clearly perceived that this man’s mastery over that power was at an exceptionally high level.

Every punch and kick appeared blunt and wasteful of Internal Strength, but in reality, the force within his strikes was condensed, not dissipated. This indicated that he had cultivated his Sixth Layer Internal Strength to its peak and could control it willfully, wasting not a single iota of energy.

The corner of He Yiming’s eye twitched. He was inwardly startled, realizing that if this development continued, this man would inevitably advance to the Seventh Layer sooner or later.

On the platform, fists whistled and palm shadows danced. Though the exchange was lively, it was not a fight to the death.

However, after a period of probing, the temperaments of both men gradually heated up. Their caution in striking waned, and they even began to employ killing moves.

After all, this was a match concerning the reputation of two major families, and it impacted their standing within their respective clans. At this juncture, victory demanded every ounce of effort, regardless of cost.

He Yixuan moved his feet in steady, measured steps, maintaining a deliberate rhythm. This was the optimal combat method for a Water-elemental technique: as long as one maintained an unyielding defense, no other technique’s recovery speed could match that of the Water style.

He was certain that if he continued this way, victory would eventually be his. However, just then, Xu Yucai on the platform suddenly halted.

He roared, and his body seemed to instantly grow taller by a third. His already near-two-meter frame now radiated a ferocious aura, reminiscent of a demon god.

He advanced with heavy strides, his fists like hammers, completely disregarding his own safety as he charged directly toward He Yixuan. He Yixuan felt a chill.

Facing the relentless barrage of incoming fists, he suddenly had the overwhelming notion that evasion was impossible. Even though his body flashed rapidly, he seemed perpetually under the shadow of the opponent’s blows.

The sharp wind generated by the fists swept past his face, giving him a sensation akin to being sliced by a blade. Though he knew confronting the assault directly was forbidden, in this situation, he seemed to have no other choice.

His palms waved like swift waves, laying down layer upon layer of palm shadows resembling water undulations before him. He Yixuan had also brought his mastery of the Soft Palm to the peak of the Sixth Layer.

Under the pressure of the opponent’s aura, he unleashed the full might of this combat technique. The twin fists, heavy as colossal hammers, crashed down upon the watery palm shadows.

A massive surge of air exploded outward, and the realm of illusory palm shadows instantly vanished. A pair of fists, large as vinegar jars, slammed brutally into He Yixuan’s palms, shattering his defenses like brittle pottery and hurtling straight toward his chest.

In that split second, the look of panic vanished from He Yixuan’s eyes, instantly replaced by an icy calm. He twisted his body slightly, successfully diverting the blow from his vital chest and abdomen, but the strike heavily swept across his right shoulder.

He had already anticipated this, and just as the blow made contact, his feet lifted off the ground as he leaped entirely off the leitai. [bookid=1018112,bookname=《》]