Zhou Huan felt a degree of awe watching the old man; at least one thing was certain to him: this elder’s methods were incredibly vicious, his strikes fiercely potent.

"Elder, just how old are you today?" Zhou Huan asked the old man casually.

The elder let out a booming laugh, "You ask my age? I’m likely old enough to be your father's generation!"

"Oh my, then you truly are quite old. My father's generation is probably all dead by now; you have quite the longevity!" As soon as Zhou Huan finished speaking, his figure flickered, vanishing in a shua. When everyone focused their gaze, Zhou Huan was already seated in the center of the arena. The way he circulated his qi was identical to Shi Bingyuan's, as Shi Bingyuan’s method of xing qi had originated from Zhou Huan. However, since most observers had witnessed Shi Bingyuan circulating his qi first, this display caused no surprise.

Hearing Zhou Huan’s remark, a surge of fury instantly rushed to the old man’s head. Seeing Zhou Huan’s speed, he too was profoundly shocked. He had seen fast people, but never someone this fast. What was this trick? Was Zhou Huan relying solely on qinggong or that Shoushi Shu of his to fight in the arena? The more the old man pondered, the more distractions cluttered his mind, making him hesitant to strike rashly at Zhou Huan. Looking again, Zhou Huan was already flushed, his skin glowing a deep red.

"Master Zhou, stop circulating your energy; take this!" Despite his advanced age, the old man was quite impatient. As he spoke, his five fingers spread wide, reaching straight for Zhou Huan. As his hand neared Zhou Huan, Zhou Huan raised a hand to call a halt.

"Stop, Elder, I haven't even registered yet. We can't just jump in without signing two liability waivers, can we!" Zhou Huan's action was timely; the old man, proving himself somewhat rule-abiding, retracted his hand.

"What the hell is this nonsense? Registering is such a hassle. Where is the registering official?" Judging by the tone used with the old man, he was clearly a person of some standing; otherwise, an ordinary person wouldn't dare speak to the recording officer like that.

The recording officer, clutching his ledger, ambled onto the stage. He glanced at the elder and smiled faintly, "Elder Xue, Master Zhou was too fast; by the time I saw him, he was already in the ring. Furthermore, he isn't listed in the main ledger. Like you, he's a special invitee, so everything needs to be documented first."

"This is truly damn tedious. Hurry up; I’m losing my patience," growled Elder Xue. He then retreated to the side, and no one knew when he had procured his pipe. He climbed onto the stage, struck it alight with flint, and began puffing away rhythmically.

The recording officer treated Old Man Xue with politeness, but towards Master Zhou, he was exceedingly deferential, terrified of frightening him in any way: "Master Zhou, please sign here first, and then I can strike the gong!"

"Mm, bring it here. However!" Zhou Huan intentionally paused for effect, then drew the recording officer close to whisper in his ear, "When it's time to strike the gong, listen for my signal. Only strike when I say so. Afterwards, I'll see about securing some benefits for you from the high officials."

At this, the officer’s eyes nearly narrowed into slits. He nodded fervently, almost as if swearing loyalty to Guan Gong, murmuring repeatedly, "Thank you, Master Zhou, you are my benefactor!"

"Alright, alright, off you go!" Zhou Huan said.

The recording officer collected his ledger and stood on the platform, shouting loudly, "Both competitors prepare for the match! The gong signals the start!"

At his cry, Elder Xue sharply knocked his pipe against his heel twice, shaking off the ash, and finally exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Master Zhou, are you ready?" the old man asked Zhou Huan again.

Zhou Huan slowly stood up, beginning to stretch his limbs, murmuring to himself, "At his age, and yet he’s so irritable. Why the rush? They haven't even struck the gong yet. I need to loosen up a bit; I’ve been sitting down for so long!"

"Zhou Huan, why are you so long-winded? Fight if you want to fight, or concede quickly if you don't, at least to secure your life!" The old man was truly agitated, his eyes bloodshot.

Zhou Huan's stretching routine, however, was quite thorough, moving from the tips of his toes all the way to the crown of his head—he was almost stretching every single hair follicle.

The old man’s temper flared. He stormed a few paces to the soldier holding the gong, snatched the mallet, raised it high, and prepared to strike the gong.

Just then, the official supervising the event stepped forward to intervene: "Elder Xue, what are you doing? Master Zhou hasn't finished his warm-up!"

"What, are you trying to stop me? Do you know whose retainer I am?" Elder Xue nearly blurted out his own title.

Before he could speak, the supervisor replied, "We know, but you need to consider who you are competing against. This Master Zhou—none of us can afford to offend him." The supervisor then leaned close to the elder's ear and whispered, "He was personally nominated by Lord Heshen. If you offend him, what chance do we have? Why don't you grant him a favor and concede?"

"What? Impossible! Hmph, fine. I want to see how long this Zhou Huan intends to play games," the old man turned to walk back. At that very moment, a deafening gong sound exploded behind him. The old man began to turn back to curse, but he suddenly remembered this sound signaled the start of combat. By the time he turned back, Zhou Huan’s fist was already inches from his cheek. However, it was clear Zhou Huan had reined in his force, retracting his punch at the last second and turning it into an open-handed slap, striking the old man fiercely across the face. The sound echoed sharply, enraging the elder to such an extent that he nearly set the stage alight.

When he tried to pursue Zhou Huan, he found the young man had suddenly vanished. He had somehow transported himself to the far edge of the platform, making Elder Xue feel utterly toyed with. This was supposed to be a match, but who could have expected Zhou Huan to pull a stunt like this? He couldn't argue the outcome.

It turned out the old man was no pushover; his agility was comparable to Zhou Huan's. Every move and every counter aimed for Zhou Huan's vital points. The two quickly became entangled, but unexpectedly, Zhou Huan began unleashing talismans mid-fight, employing his Shoushi skills. He summoned over a dozen restless spirits (yinhun) that tightly encircled the old man. Zhou Huan then sat down on the spot and began chanting incantations. Looking at Zhou Huan, the field of qi generated by his true energy was indescribably beautiful, especially under the scrutiny of the crowd—Zhou Huan was exceptionally dazzling.

"What is this Zhou Huan's background? He's incredible; look at his body." The spectators below were slightly dazzled.

Elder Xue was contained within the circle formed by the dozen spirits and couldn't break out. Zhou Huan intended to use these spirits to force Elder Xue off the platform, thereby winning without causing physical harm. But what Zhou Huan never anticipated was that Elder Xue possessed formidable techniques. Not only could he turn a person's blood black, but he could also transform his entire soul into a dense black smoke. When he unleashed this move, Zhou Huan gasped in shock.

"Huh? What is this thing? How did it instantly scatter all the yinhun I summoned? Does this guy also study spiritual entities?" Zhou Huan felt bewildered, but he realized he couldn't remain seated. Immediately, Zhou Huan stood up, his eyes fixed intently on Elder Xue’s hand. As he watched the hand, Zhou Huan suddenly noticed something: if he viewed Elder Xue's hand with his Ghost Eye, the hand was nothing but bone; the flesh outside was illusory.

Zhou Huan watched Elder Xue’s hand float slowly toward him. To outsiders, the speed of that hand was simply indescribable.

Zhou Huan instantly conjured a talisman. This talisman was strange, designed specifically for dealing with ghosts and zombies. Unsure of his reasoning, Zhou Huan lit the talisman and hurled it directly at Elder Xue’s hand. As it struck, the black smoke began to dissipate from the hand, and bone gradually became exposed.

"Ah! Zhou Huan, what did you use?" Elder Xue felt pain, but as he spoke now, only a black, murky gas escaped his mouth.

Zhou Huan understood: this fellow was indeed a jiangshi (zombie). But why he had become one was something Zhou Huan could not explain. The best way to deal with a jiangshi was to knock it down and burn it completely with fire. However, this jiangshi was currently too powerful; a direct confrontation might risk him contracting the zombie poison himself, leading to his own transformation. Realizing this, Zhou Huan became extremely cautious, choosing evasion as his tactic against the approaching hands.

"Old fellow, don't you realize your condition is already terminal?" Zhou Huan asked deeply.

Elder Xue chuckled, "You’re talking nonsense; I’m not terminal in the slightest. Watch how I deal with you!" As he spoke, Zhou Huan shot out a Ghost Eye Talisman. Elder Xue caught the talisman in his hand. Upon contact, he suddenly felt as if he could see many things, at least he could clearly see his own hand—it was now just a piece of bone.

"What is going on? You little brat, what illusion did you cast on me? Why does my hand look like this?" Elder Xue suddenly panicked, stepping backward repeatedly.

Zhou Huan did not press the attack. He remained standing relaxed, smiling, "Grandpa Xue, you should be able to understand your own situation. Look at what your body has become. The most severe part is your hand. I don't know what kind of cultivation technique you practiced to achieve this effect; it is truly extraordinary. If you intend to win today, then don't blame me, Zhou Huan, for showing no mercy. Against a jiangshi like you, I will certainly destroy you. However, if you cooperate, I can save you within three days and restore your hand to its original state."

"Hahaha, stop the chatter! Apprentice Xue, help your master kill him!" someone shouted fiercely from below the stage.