Wu Miaofeng said lightly, "Little Master, whether it is true or false is for you to judge. We cannot force you to believe it, can we?"

Li Muzhan replied, "How about this: I will try to refine a batch myself following the formula, and see if it is true or false."

"You can refine pills?" Wu Miaofeng frowned.

Li Muzhan smiled, "I cannot refine them, but doesn't your sect have those who can?"

"Mmm... that is fine too," Wu Miaofeng nodded and said, "I will do it myself then."

Li Muzhan suddenly smiled, "I have changed my mind."

Wu Miaofeng’s expression was calm as he said lightly, "It is no harm to hear what you have to say."

Li Muzhan chuckled, "I have figured it out. Instead of wanting the formula, I'd rather have the finished elixirs... Fifty Solid Origin Pills will do."

He continued, "It is far too easy to tamper with a formula."

"Little Master is a monk; he truly doesn't trust us," Wu Miaofeng shook his head and smiled.

Li Muzhan smiled, "It is precisely because I am a monk that I see things more clearly. Please proceed."

"Good, we shall follow the Little Master's wishes," Wu Miaofeng readily agreed.

An old man beside him took out a set of porcelain bottles from his robes. There were three in total, each about the size of a palm, and he presented them to Li Muzhan.

"There are twenty pills in each bottle, sixty Solid Origin Pills in total," Wu Miaofeng pointed out.

Li Muzhan stared at him for a moment, slowly nodded, "Good, straightforward... I won't inspect them. Let's start the contest."

Wu Miaofeng smiled, "No rush. Let's first inspect the Little Master's blade."

Li Muzhan stared at him, watched for a while, then suddenly smiled and tossed the blade over. A cold light flashed, and the surrounding air immediately cooled.

The disciples slowly stopped their movements, their attention drifting towards the scene, and when they saw the precious saber drawn and thrown towards the Sect Leader, they all widened their eyes.

Wu Miaofeng reached out and caught the long saber, glancing down at it. His face instantly changed. The other three elders hurried over, looked closely, and exchanged glances, seemingly communicating without words.

Li Muzhan smiled, "Is it real?"

From the moment he arrived at the Ling Shan Sect and saw these four elders, he had felt no goodwill towards them, sensing that these four were sanctimonious hypocrites, not good people at all.

Towards such individuals, he felt it was beneath him to be polite; it was demeaning himself.

Even though his motives were impure—he was after the Solid Origin Pills—if they had upright characters, he would have won them back honorably rather than snatching them.

If they were dishonest and resorted to wicked tricks, he certainly would not be civil.

Wu Miaofeng nodded, "Although I don't know if this is truly the Duan Yue Saber, this blade is indeed excellent. Alright, let's consider it settled then."

Li Muzhan smiled enigmatically, "Then I shall ask to witness the senior’s sublime skills?"

Wu Miaofeng pondered for a moment, slowly shook his head, and looked toward another elder.

He thought for a moment, his mind racing, barely suppressing the killing intent, but upon seeing Li Muzhan's smile, he grew wary. After wrestling with his thoughts a thousand times, he finally decided to ask the most formidable martial artist among them, the Eldest Senior Brother, to take action and wrest this saber away openly.

The elder was tall and robust, with a face like fine jade. Though his hair was the color of frost, there wasn't a single wrinkle on his face, making him appear like a youthful elder with white hair.

However, his eyes betrayed a deep sense of vicissitude, as if they could see through the affairs of the world.

He smiled slightly, stepped forward one pace, and addressed Li Muzhan, "Little Master, let this old man exchange moves with you."

His expression was gentle, and his voice was smooth and unhurried, neither fast nor slow, yet every word carried an imposing aura, perfectly articulated and weighty as a thousand pounds.

Li Muzhan was secretly astonished. This method of pronunciation possessed a subtle similarity to the esoteric phrases of Buddhism. Although he understood the concept, he had never considered applying it this way.

He was pleasantly surprised, as if a new door had opened. While the true phrases were indeed profound and capable of mastering the mind, the manner of their enunciation was also exceptional and should be utilized. If one could speak using the phonetic style of the true phrases, it would generate intangible power, making it more effortless and profitable than overtly displaying martial arts—truly miraculous.

He felt joy in his heart, but his face remained impassive. Cupping his hands in a salute, he smiled, "May I inquire the senior's honored name?"

"This old man is Wei Xuanfeng," the elder stated slowly.

Li Muzhan took a step back, cupped his hands, "Senior Wei, please proceed... Before we start, we must agree: only this one bout to determine the victor."

"Precisely," Wu Miaofeng quickly nodded.

Yan Lengsi glanced at Wei Xuanfeng, then at Wu Miaofeng, stepped forward, and moved close to Li Muzhan, "Monk, this man is formidable. Can you manage?"

Li Muzhan turned, seeing the genuine worry and concern on his face, and whispered with a smile, "Let's give it a try... If I lose, you make your escape first."

"...Alright," Yan Lengsi initially wanted to object, but then nodded. Deep down, he disliked the idea of such an action, feeling it lacked integrity and was not the conduct of a true man, but influenced by Li Muzhan’s guidance, he felt it might be acceptable, and he could repay the favor later.

Wei Xuanfeng said lightly, "This old man practices fist techniques. If the Little Master uses the saber, feel free to use it; it makes no difference to me."

Li Muzhan smiled, "I use palm techniques. Perfect. Senior, please—"

"Good, ha ha ha..." Wei Xuanfeng stroked his beard and laughed heartily.

The laughter stopped abruptly, the smile vanished, and in a flash, a punch shot toward Li Muzhan, like a fierce tiger leaping forward, his hair and whiskers bristling, enveloped by a great wind.

A divine light flashed in Li Muzhan's eyes, and he met the incoming fist with a lunging palm.

With a muffled thud, "Bo," like a small stone dropping into a deep well, the fist collided with the palm.

A fierce wind immediately erupted, wildly whipping the sleeves of the two combatants. Those nearby were not spared; their hair streamed, and their robes fluttered violently, as if caught in a gale.

Wu Miaofeng and the other two elders showed a slight change in expression, standing firmly rooted. However, Jin Shijie staggered back three paces, as if thrown into the vast ocean, silently pulled by the surging hidden force, unable to control himself.

Yan Lengsi wavered for a moment, then planted his horse stance, sinking his qi downward, instantly stabilizing himself. He inwardly gasped, So close, so close to making a fool of myself.

Amidst the gale, Li Muzhan’s robes billowed, but his body remained perfectly still.

Wei Xuanfeng retreated one step, stamping his foot, which made the platform tremble slightly. When he raised his leg again, a footprint nearly three inches deep was imprinted on the wood.

Li Muzhan squinted and cried out, "A marvelous 'Shifting Flowers and Grafting Wood'!"

This technique involved transferring kinetic energy downwards through the feet—a skill he himself had mastered but had never seen anyone else achieve. It required absolute mastery over force control. To encounter it here was astonishing.

Moreover, in this head-on collision, he had a clear sense of the exchange: in terms of internal energy depth, he was slightly inferior, but only marginally so. Combined with his divine strength, he actually held the upper hand. This was all thanks to the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture, which greatly increased his internal power, placing him among the foremost experts of the age in depth—enough to protect himself comfortably.

Wei Xuanfeng exhaled a stale breath, his eyes wide, "Good, good!"

He hadn't expected someone so young to possess such terrifying power.

Li Muzhan smiled, "This 'Shifting Flowers and Grafting Wood' technique is truly exquisite; I admire it. Now, take this from me!"

Saying this, he stamped his foot and drove a punch forward, like a plummeting meteor.

With another dull sound, "Bo," Wei Xuanfeng extended his palm and caught it.

There was none of the previous momentum; the surroundings remained still. Li Muzhan did not move, but Wei Xuanfeng swayed slightly and slowly retreated three steps.

Each step left a footprint: the first was two inches deep, the second deeper, the third even deeper, before he finally stabilized and stopped retreating.

Li Muzhan laughed heartily and drove another punch forward, "Again!"

Wei Xuanfeng met it with his palm again, retreated three steps, leaving footprints exactly as before—shallow first, then deeper—transferring the force to his feet.

Li Muzhan pressed his advantage, delivering punch after punch, yet each time he waited until Wei Xuanfeng had firmly planted himself before striking again, as if they shared a mutual rhythm.

To outsiders, it appeared Li Muzhan held the clear advantage, suppressing Wei Xuanfeng without allowing him to strike back. Everyone below the platform clenched their fists, wishing they could rush up to help.

The Ling Shan Sect's top master was being bullied by a young monk with no apparent ability to fight back! Fortunately, Martial Uncle Wei seemed uninjured, merely temporarily disadvantaged.

Yan Lengsi’s face lit up with joy, nodding repeatedly. Jin Shijie stared blankly at Li Muzhan, his expression grim, while the three Wu brothers remained composed, watching the two exchange blows thoughtfully.

Li Muzhan stopped and said with a smile, "Senior Wei, this continues to be tedious. It's your turn now."

Wei Xuanfeng stood steadily and nodded slowly, "Very well."

Without waiting for Li Muzhan's consent, a punch suddenly shot toward Li Muzhan's chest—instantaneous, faster than lightning.

Li Muzhan let out a long laugh and met it with his palm. With a "Bo" sound, he retreated three steps, each step leaving a distinct footprint, identical to Wei Xuanfeng's earlier marks.

Wei Xuanfeng’s expression shifted slightly, surprise flashing in his gaze. This 'Shifting Flowers and Grafting Wood' was the supreme and most subtle learning of the Ling Shan Sect; how could he have learned it?

"Again!" he commanded, his fist already close.

Li Muzhan met it head-on, retreating two steps, each leaving a footprint, completely neutralizing the internal force.

"Again!" Wei Xuanfeng, unwilling to accept defeat, struck again.

This time, Li Muzhan retreated one step, the footprint sinking three full inches.

"Again!" Wei Xuanfeng roared, his punch fierce, like the roar of a fierce tiger.

Li Muzhan extended his palm to receive it, but this time he did not retreat a single step, standing firm, though his feet sank slightly.

"Again!" Wei Xuanfeng’s jade-like face flushed red, and he punched out in anger.

Li Muzhan caught it with his palm, then suddenly lifted off the ground. His feet traced a slow arc in the air, and he landed steadily, not retreating a step, a smile on his face.

Wei Xuanfeng’s eyes blazed with focused light, his face flushed, staring at Li Muzhan in disbelief.

Li Muzhan laughed, "I am also slightly familiar with the methods of 'Shifting Flowers and Grafting Wood.' I wonder who is superior?"

Wei Xuanfeng let out a long breath and slowly nodded, "Impressive... I never thought you possessed such profound cultivation at such a young age."

Li Muzhan smiled, "The marvelous techniques of Ling Shan are also extraordinary. If there is nothing else, Senior should concede defeat."

"Take one more blow from this old man!" Wei Xuanfeng took a deep breath, raising both palms before his chest, slowly turning them upwards, his face serious, his hands seeming to bear the weight of ten thousand pounds.

Slowly, his palms moved as if gently supporting a sphere, coming together, one palm rising slightly while the other dipped, slowly kneading an invisible sphere, the motion accelerating.

Li Muzhan frowned, his fingers pinching a needle of cold iron. He employed the Arrow Driving Art, continuously drawing his internal power into this single cold iron needle. This needle was an excellent military item, forged during the process of repairing the Ge Lu Saber previously. With this needle, he could use the Yellow Dragon Flying Sword technique and simultaneously conceal his flying knives—it was perfect. Furthermore, the material was special, capable of withstanding immense internal energy.

He extended his sleeve, and the cold iron needle rested between his fingers, flashing a dark, somber sheen in the sunlight, visible to everyone, causing a shiver in their hearts.

Wei Xuanfeng glanced at it, saw the cold iron needle, but paid it no mind, continuing to slowly knead the invisible sphere. His long robe puffed out as if filled with air, his hair and whiskers fluttering as if basking in a great wind.

His eyes shone with sharp light, his presence powerful, like a god descending. The crowd below held their breath, afraid to blink, lest they miss the most spectacular moment.

Li Muzhan held the cold iron needle between his fingers, watching with a smile, seemingly waiting for the attack.

Wei Xuanfeng’s movements slowed as he kneaded the palms, appearing to exert increasing effort, his face turning crimson, as if he might lose control at any moment, giving an impression of imminent collapse.

His motion suddenly halted, and he roared, "Take this!"

The sound was like a massive thunderclap. Simultaneously with the roar, he thrust both palms violently towards Li Muzhan.

An invisible but surging power rushed forward. The crowd below was forced back several steps, unable to control their movement. Jin Shijie, being closest, was flung backward, pausing momentarily in the air before drifting gently to the ground. Yan Lengsi struggled with all his might to stay steady but could not resist the thrust and could only stagger backward, jumping off the platform in the process.

The three Wu brothers squatted slightly, standing firm, like old trees rooted to stone. Their hair and robes fluttered, as if standing against a raging storm.

Li Muzhan smiled faintly, then suddenly flicked his finger gently. The cold iron needle drifted out slowly, floating away on the wind like a swan's feather.

With a crisp sound, "Bo," a ripple seemed to spread through the air.

The cold iron needle paused, suspended motionless in the air for about three or four seconds, then began to descend slowly, like a feather, as if supported by an invisible force.

The invisible force surged again, and the crowd below was involuntarily pushed back once more. Their clothing was pressed against their bodies by the pressure, and many were pushed over backward.

Li Muzhan beckoned, and the cold iron needle flashed back into his hand, which he tucked into his robes. Li Muzhan cupped his hands and said with a smile, "Senior Wei, I thank you for your grace."

With that, he stepped forward, approaching Wu Miaofeng, and extended his hand with a smile, "Senior Wu?"

Wu Miaofeng frowned, his expression shifting.

Li Muzhan laughed, glanced at the other three elders, and settled his gaze on Wu Miaofeng, "Senior Wu, are you perhaps thinking of reneging on our agreement?"

"Heh heh heh..." Wu Miaofeng chuckled, shaking his head, "Little Master has misunderstood."

He waved his hand, and another elder stepped forward, presenting Li Muzhan with the three porcelain bottles—the very three bottles of Solid Origin Pills from earlier.

Li Muzhan said, "Little Yan, come and check these."

"Coming!" Yan Lengsi leaped onto the stage, took the bottles, inspected them, and nodded, "They are genuine."

Li Muzhan smiled, cupped his hands, "A bet accepted is a debt paid. Very good, Senior Wu, we shall take our leave now."

Saying this, he pulled Yan Lengsi up and started to leave.

"Wait," Wu Miaofeng quickly raised his hand.