Li Muzhan chuckled, “But what if a fight actually breaks out and blood is spilled? Things between Canghai Mountain and your esteemed family won’t be so peaceful, and conflict will be unavoidable.”

“Heh, that is true,” Nangong Lizhen nodded, smiling. “Brother Li’s foresight is sound. But rest assured now; we are friends, and we certainly won't become enemies.”

Li Muzhan gave a wry smile, “I certainly hope so. The eldest young master of the Wang family is here to apologize. I pray the Wang family and your esteemed residence can come to an understanding and turn weapons into jade.”

Nangong Lizhen replied, “Don’t worry, we don’t wish to make more enemies either!”

Hearing this, Li Muzhan breathed a sigh of relief, sensing that this matter was ninety percent settled with no major issues. Wang Yuanchu looked coarse, yet he possessed a meticulous mind and was exceedingly steady; he would never bungle things.

Nangong Lizhen rubbed his hands together and stood up. “Come, my hands are getting itchy. Brother Li, how about we spar a few moves?”

“Second Brother, you’re kicking someone when they’re down—that’s really unkind!” Nangong Wuwang huffed.

Nangong Lizhen paused, then realized, chuckling, “Look at me, I completely forgot. Brother Li just finished a tough fight and needs time to rest.”

Li Muzhan smiled, “Precisely. Give me half an hour to regulate my breath, then we shall spar.”

With that, he sat down in the armchair, closed his eyes, and sat perfectly still, entering the quietude of meditation and breath regulation.

Nangong Wuwang scoffed, “Second Brother, you can’t beat Brother Li either!”

“Third Brother, that’s not necessarily true!” Nangong Lizhen shook his head with a smile.

“Second Brother, how about a wager?” Nangong Wuwang smirked slyly.

“Fine, what are we betting?” Nangong Lizhen asked good-naturedly.

“We’ll bet your Cold Spring Sword!” Nangong Wuwang grinned triumphantly, glancing sideways at him with an air of looking down on him.

“Third Brother, you’ve improved greatly—you’ve learned how to use provocation!” Nangong Lizhen laughed heartily.

Nangong Wuwang snorted, “Second Brother, just say yes or no—do you dare to bet?”

Nangong Lizhen clapped his hands once. “A bet is a bet! The Cold Spring Sword it is!”

Nangong Wuwang quickly said, “Good! It’s settled then, you can’t go back on your word! We’ll set the limit at half an hour!”

“It’s settled then!” Nangong Lizhen nodded.

“Heh heh, this time, the Cold Spring Sword will be mine!” Nangong Wuwang chuckled with satisfaction.

The crowd below buzzed with murmurs and discussions. They truly hadn’t expected to witness such exquisite palm techniques today—so magnificent and unparalleled—it had profoundly shaken them.

They stared continuously at Li Muzhan, who sat with his eyes closed regulating his breath, wondering where this man had sprung from. In their eyes, the Third Young Master possessed the most refined palm techniques; apart from Nangong Sidao, no one could compare, not even the Eldest or Second Young Masters, in terms of palm mastery alone.

And now, this young man, who seemed about the same age as the Third Young Master, had fought him to a standstill—it was utterly astonishing.

It seemed this person belonged to the Canghai Sword Sect. Perhaps they truly had underestimated the heroes of the world; the Canghai Sword Sect, being one of the Seven Great Sects, was indeed not to be trifled with.

Li Muzhan woke up quickly, having only regulated his breath for fifteen minutes. He had done this intentionally. In truth, with his internal energy, his meridians were exceptionally strong; he hadn't felt tired at all. However, he didn't want to be too startlingly impressive.

Holding back a sliver of strength meant leaving room for maneuver, creating a misconception for others, lest he reveal his true depth.

Seeing him awaken, Nangong Lizhen quickly stood up and laughed, “Come, come, let’s begin! … My palm technique isn't the Qiankun Palm; it’s the Cloud Dispersing Palm. It’s not as formidable as the Qiankun Palm, but it’s not bad either, so be careful!”

Li Muzhan rose and smiled, “Then I shall receive your instruction.”

“Hah!” Nangong Lizhen shouted suddenly, pushing both palms forward fiercely.

Immediately, a surging force rushed toward Li Muzhan. He was surprised, flicked his right sleeve, and with a dull thump, the Sleeveless Technique collided with the Cloud Dispersing Palm.

The might of the Cloud Dispersing Palm was fierce and overwhelming, surging like a rolling flood. The Sleeveless Technique was gentle as the wind, but upon meeting the Palm’s power, it instantly transformed into fierce strength.

Nangong Wuwang and Zhao Shuqi’s robes snapped loudly; they were actually forced to take a step back.

The armchairs scraped back a full foot. The hair of the audience below whipped about as if caught in a strong gale.

“Good power!” Nangong Lizhen laughed heartily, leaping up, pushing his palms out in mid-air. The surging palm energy shot straight down, like a colossal dragon swooping.

Li Muzhan stepped forward and flicked his sleeve again, executing another move from the Sleeveless Technique.

The two were now testing internal energy against each other. Nangong Wuwang shook his head and called out, “Brother Li, don’t compete on internal energy with my Second Brother; he truly specializes in internal cultivation!”

Li Muzhan nodded with a smile. Their internal energies clashed again with another muffled bang.

Nangong Lizhen flipped backward in the air, using the momentum to shoot up over ten zhang high, then dove down, pushing his palms out. Surging internal energy poured down like a tide, emitting a faint, muffled roar.

Li Muzhan raised both palms, suddenly gathering, then pressing, and the surging internal energy was immediately guided obliquely away, slamming into the ground with a loud thump. The entire platform shuddered and trembled.

The crowd gasped and looked over.

Nangong Lizhen flipped again and ascended high into the sky, then plummeted downward, launching both palms—his power roaring like an eagle snatching a rabbit.

Li Muzhan extended his palms again, gathering, then rotating, turning the descending palm energy into a vortex spinning around his body. His robes snapped wildly. Zhao Shuqi and Nangong Wuwang rooted themselves, activating their 'Thousand-Jin Anchor' stance.

However, several armchairs cracked with a loud ka-cha, shattering into fragments that spun into the air, all drawn toward Li Muzhan, circling him overhead.

Nangong Lizhen uttered an 'Yi,' landing lightly.

He had intended to borrow momentum, but he couldn't; that force had been drawn to Li Muzhan’s side, rendering his attempt to leverage it useless, forcing him to land.

Li Muzhan smiled slightly, pressed down with both palms, and the spinning wooden fragments instantly spun further, transforming into a gigantic dragon that charged toward Nangong Lizhen.

Nangong Lizhen laughed aloud, pushing his palms forward, then pushing again, and then again—four successive pushes, sending out palm forces in waves, each one fiercer than the last, layering upon each other like angry ocean breakers crashing on rocks. The wooden fragments in the air instantly turned to dust and rushed back toward Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan spun his right palm and thrust violently, while his left palm transformed into a fist and struck out forcefully.

With a dull thump, the dust exploded outward. Nangong Lizhen gave a muffled groan and staggered back a step, his face pale, the color draining from his cheeks.

“Good! Good!” he praised several times, rubbing his chest and shaking his head with a bitter smile.

“Haha, Second Brother, the Cold Spring Sword is mine!” Nangong Wuwang roared with laughter.

“It’s too early to celebrate,” Nangong Lizhen shook his head, turning to Li Muzhan, “Brother Li, truly excellent skill. I am impressed!”

Li Muzhan smiled faintly, “Young Master Second, do you have any other ultimate techniques? Display them, and allow me to learn something new!”

“Good!” Nangong Lizhen shouted.