He could distinctly feel the presence of that wind; as it passed, his neck felt stiff and strangely painful, and a few severed strands of hair floated down to rest upon his shoulder.

Long Feng froze completely, his mind reeling with disbelief.

That wind—it was a compressed air current formed by powerful Neijin (Internal Energy). Only those who had achieved a high level of Neijin projection could manage such a feat. In their entire clan, only a handful of Elders possessed such strength.

Neijin Projection, capable of killing unseen.

That might still be hard to grasp. The most famous technique in novels, the Six Meridian Divine Sword, utilized a sword of pure energy. Neijin Projection operated on a similar principle: channeling potent Neijin directly outward to injure an opponent without visible contact.

But that wasn't the main point. The crucial factor was that Neijin Projection was a benchmark, the definitive hallmark of a true master.

Long Feng had been confident he would achieve the next breakthrough by forty and reach the advanced stage of Neijin Projection by sixty. He was twenty-five now; achieving that required over thirty more years of rigorous cultivation.

That confidence, however, was merely speculation; whether he could truly achieve it depended on future fortune.

How old was Zhang Yang?

At most, barely twenty. It had already astonished Long Feng that Yang possessed deeper Neijin than him. He had initially considered the possibility of spirit medicine, but reaching the level of Neijin Projection was virtually impossible through such means.

Then again, if Zhang Yang truly possessed such power, why use the Fox-Tailed Sable earlier? Why let him hold on for so long?

If they had truly clashed, Long Feng would have had to flee, and if he couldn't escape, he would be finished.

At this moment, Long Feng’s mind was a complete jumble. Even the spirit beast Fox-Tailed Sable and the spirit medicine paled in comparison to the shock he felt now. Both the sable and the medicine were external aids; what Zhang Yang displayed was his genuine strength.

Noticing Long Feng standing there, utterly stunned, Zhang Yang’s smile widened, splitting his face.

This was his trump card. Under these circumstances, it was impossible for Long Feng to maintain mental stability.

A tiger that had already lost its claws and teeth—how could it possibly contend when stupefied?

Zhang Yang’s hand slowly curled, forming a claw. The next instant, it clamped down on the crown of Long Feng’s head.

The eighth move. Zhang Yang subdued Long Feng in just eight exchanges, his hand resting directly on a vital point. The outcome of this wager was now blindingly clear.

At this moment, Zhang Yang let out a soft breath.

Long Feng painfully managed to lift his head. He had reacted when Zhang Yang grabbed him, but unfortunately, his reaction was too slow.

His mind was completely fractured. Already weaker than Zhang Yang, he naturally couldn't contend now.

“You lost!”

Zhang Yang smiled down at him and said softly.

A bitter expression crossed Long Feng’s face, and he nodded slightly. “Yes, I lost!”

He had lost. Long Feng knew he had lost. He never imagined he wouldn't even last ten moves against Zhang Yang, being defeated in eight—a complete rout.

“But I desperately want to know: since you possess such high power, why propose this wager? I clearly stood no chance against you?”

Long Feng asked with difficulty. If he had known Zhang Yang was this formidable earlier, he would never have been foolish enough to seek revenge.

If Zhang Yang had reached Neijin Projection, he was more than one level higher than Long Feng; he wouldn't have stood a chance.

Even if a wager was proposed, he might not have agreed.

In front of the Clan Elders, he might have had a slim chance of lasting ten moves, but in front of an outsider, it would have been incredibly difficult. The Elders' spar was merely practice, and they certainly wouldn't use their full strength. Furthermore, he was well aware of their actual power levels.

Outsiders were different; they would fight all-out, and Long Feng was unfamiliar with them. Lasting ten moves would indeed be hard.

Moreover, had he known the truth, he wouldn't have chosen to dodge at such close quarters. He would have fled as far away as possible. Competing up close with a master of Neijin Projection was pure suicide.

Right now, he felt as if Zhang Yang had been treating him like a child, merely playing a game.

“I’m not as formidable as you imagine!”

Zhang Yang smiled, releasing his grip, appearing quite cheerful. He had won—not only securing a master bodyguard but also gaining a three-year buffer period.

The Xuanyuan Clan, after all, was a righteous family with its own moral boundaries. He had won this bet openly and fairly. Without extraordinary circumstances, the Xuanyuan Clan would not come after him again.

Unless they broke their word, attacking him would mean attacking Long Feng as well, essentially resulting in internal conflict.

Long Feng now...—ShuShuWeb

“Impossible! Neijin Projection, I couldn't have mistaken it!”

Long Feng shook his head dejectedly. His sadness wasn't about losing and forfeiting three years of freedom; it was because of Zhang Yang's age.

For Zhang Yang to possess such high strength at such a young age—no one could predict his future trajectory. Moreover, Zhang Yang having such a singular master would make even their own clan hesitant to offend him lightly.

No matter how this played out, this was the clan’s miscalculation.

“That wasn't true Neijin Projection. It was a secret technique that allowed the Neijin to erupt temporarily. It consumes a massive amount of internal energy, and its power isn't truly great. With my current Neijin reserves, I could only manage it once!”

Zhang Yang smiled and shook his head. Long Feng immediately spun around, staring at Zhang Yang in shock.

Zhang Yang’s face indeed showed signs of fatigue. Although no white mist emerged from his head, sweat beaded on his forehead.

Additionally, he carefully recalled the gust of wind from moments ago.

The wind had been strong, giving him the sensation that it could sever his throat, but it seemed to lack follow-through, vanishing completely behind him. Compared to true Neijin Projection, which could extend several meters, or even over ten meters for the most powerful users, there was a definite gap. Masters capable of projection could usually push the current several meters; Zhang Yang's gust probably hadn't even spanned one meter.

“A secret technique? I know of methods that can temporarily boost power, but they always cause some self-damage. I didn't expect you to use one just to win. I truly lost without grievance this time!”

Long Feng looked at Zhang Yang with complex emotions, shaking his head helplessly.

Losing was losing. Even if Zhang Yang had used a secret technique, he was still defeated.

It was fortunate this was a contest; in a fight to the death, Zhang Yang would have already crushed his skull, leaving him a lonely spirit.

Long Feng was an upright man; after losing, he found no excuses for himself.

“This technique doesn't harm the body; it only expends the Neijin greatly, requiring time to recharge, and the range is very short. The speed is slow, making it a rather redundant technique, useless in normal circumstances. However, in this match, it was enough to disrupt your state of mind!”

Zhang Yang chuckled and shook his head. Since Long Feng admitted defeat, there was no need for concealment.

That move truly lacked significant lethality. It could injure someone at close range, but at close range, both parties were wary; Long Feng had dodged the gust anyway.

He was merely disturbed by its sudden appearance.

Just as Zhang Yang said, it was a chicken-rib technique. Those who couldn't evade it were only those with much lower strength, like Long Cheng. However, even to deal with Long Cheng, there was no need to employ such a technique.

And as Zhang Yang mentioned, it was only useful for slightly destabilizing the opponent during a fight. If the opponent’s spirit was resolute, it had no effect at all.

“I concede. I will follow the agreement: I will stay with you for three years, and the Xuanyuan Clan will cease troubling you. But after three years, I hope you will uphold your promise!”

Long Feng spoke slowly. Learning that Zhang Yang wasn’t vastly superior in true strength eased his heart considerably.

Three years wasn't a long time; missions assigned by their clan often lasted at least five years, but the rewards upon return couldn't compare to spirit medicine.

Regarding protecting Zhang Yang for three years to gain a spirit medicine—Long Feng wasn't against it at all. For him, it was a worthwhile transaction.

His reminder about upholding the promise was urging Zhang Yang not to forget the spirit medicine.

“Don’t worry. If you perform well within these three years, the Millennial Ginseng Pill will certainly be no problem!”

Zhang Yang smiled lightly. He still possessed several dozen Millennial Ginseng Pills; giving one to Long Feng posed no burden.

For Zhang Yang, resolving the trouble with the Xuanyuan Clan was worth the price of one spirit medicine. Currently, Zhang Yang couldn't afford a direct confrontation with giants like the Xuanyuan Clan; he would inevitably suffer the loss. Solving the problem with a single medicine while gaining a master bodyguard made this a very shrewd deal for Zhang Yang.

A bodyguard like Long Feng was far more capable than those hired from outside.

Long Feng stopped talking and stood silently beside Zhang Yang. All hostility toward Zhang Yang had vanished.

He knew that starting now, for the next three years, he had to follow this man, protecting him and those around him. Zhang Yang hadn't specified that he needed to protect others, but for a bodyguard, it was inherently part of the duty.

Zhang Yang nodded silently. Long Feng was an honorable man, willing to honor the wager.

Zhang Yang walked toward the residential complex, and Long Feng followed behind, maintaining a distance of several paces rather than walking right beside him.

“Where do you live?”

Reaching the base of the apartment building, Zhang Yang suddenly turned and asked.

Zhang Yang no longer worried about any renewed danger from Long Feng. The Xuanyuan Clan members were generally trustworthy; a family that lacked integrity couldn't have lasted so many years. Their willingness to help the Zhang family of Huatuo Residence—having repaid a mere past favor by agreeing to arrest someone—indicated this long-standing sense of obligation.

However, his own residence was a modest two-bedroom apartment; he and Mi Xue each took one room, leaving no space to spare for Long Feng.

Zhang Yang certainly didn't want to share a bed with Long Cheng at night—setting aside the potential misunderstandings, he himself was unwilling to share a bed with another man.

“I don’t mind, anywhere is fine!”

Long Feng shook his head. He hadn't considered accommodation; since he was now following Zhang Yang, anywhere near him would suffice.

“How about this: you find a hotel for tonight, and tomorrow I’ll buy or rent a place nearby. My place definitely won't work for tonight!”

Zhang Yang said softly, pulling out another wad of cash from his bag. He wasn’t sure if Long Feng carried money, but giving more was better safe than sorry, especially since Long Feng was now nominally under his employ.

…………………… First update. Xiao Yu just returned from visiting relatives and immediately started typing; he hasn't stopped for a moment. This trip was to the mother-in-law’s place—it couldn't be skipped. But returning, Xiao Yu feels quite disheartened; eighteen hours have passed, and we haven't even reached half of the desired thirty votes. Friends, could you please support Xiao Yu with a few more votes, at least allowing us to achieve the small goal of thirty votes? Book Net