Hearing the shout, Sun Sheng knew that Qiong Aohai had succeeded in stalling Murong Longyuan—this would be his final chance to strike!

Murong Longyuan glanced at Sun Sheng. He pulled a signal firework from his robe, aimed it at the sky, and ignited it.

“Whoosh…”

“Bang!”

The firework soared into the air and exploded into a golden dagger—Six Doors’ signal!

Seeing this, Qiong Aohai didn't hesitate. He lunged again.

He had to keep Murong Longyuan occupied.

With each swing of his palms, the sound of crashing tides echoed endlessly.

Qiong Aohai had cultivated the Surging Wave Palm to the peak of mastery—just one step short of perfection.

Once perfected, his strength would rival even a first-rank master.

Murong Longyuan looked at Qiong Aohai deeply, a complicated light flashing in his eyes.

In the next instant…

He struck with his right palm—but this time, his technique changed.

Where he had been using the straightforward Mountain-Splitting Palm, he now switched to Shaolin’s famed Swift Palms.

In the blink of an eye…

He unleashed ten consecutive strikes. Left followed right, one after another—so fast, they were almost indistinguishable.

Qiong Aohai was startled.

He hastily raised his hands to block.

But Murong Longyuan’s assault was like a storm. In just a few breaths, Qiong Aohai took multiple hits.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, thicker than before.

Meanwhile, Sun Sheng tapped the ground with light steps, unleashing the light-footwork technique Floating on Water. His speed surged as he dashed toward Zhang Maoxiang.

But Zhang Maoxiang was encircled by soldiers and disaster victims.

Sun Sheng had no choice but to leap into the air, stepping across shoulders and heads, bounding straight for Zhang Maoxiang.

The surrounding soldiers slashed at him with their blades, trying to block him.

Sun Sheng moved with agility, timing his steps to kick away a soldier’s weapon and land beside Zhang Maoxiang.

“Corrupt official! Your life is mine!” Sun Sheng roared, eyes filled with killing intent.

Before his words even finished, his palm struck out toward Zhang Maoxiang.

Just then—

“You wretch! How dare you!”

A sharp shout came from behind.

A white waxwood spear suddenly thrust out from the side, aiming straight for Sun Sheng’s striking hand.

The spearhead shimmered coldly under the sun, lightning-fast and deadly.

This time, Sun Sheng didn’t dodge. A fierce glint flashed in his eyes.

Even if it cost him this hand—even if it was crippled—he would kill Zhang Maoxiang!

For the people of the world, this scourge had to die!

Seeing Sun Sheng leap past the crowd and land beside him, Zhang Maoxiang was so terrified his soul nearly fled his body, his face drained of color.

Just as Sun Sheng's palm was about to land, a soldier beside Zhang Maoxiang shoved him hard.

Sun Sheng's strike hit Zhang Maoxiang’s arm.

“Crack!” A clear and crisp sound rang out.

“Aaahhh!”

Zhang Maoxiang screamed in agony.

His left arm went limp—Sun Sheng had broken it with a single strike.

At the same moment, the spear pierced through Sun Sheng’s right palm.

“Squelch!”

The sharp tip ran clean through. Blood gushed out, streaming from his hand.

Sun Sheng’s face twisted in pain.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the torment.

With his left hand, he struck again, continuing the assault.

But the spear suddenly withdrew.

Its cold glint trembled and twisted, stabbing toward his incoming hand.

The surrounding soldiers were desperately dragging Zhang Maoxiang away, shielding him with their bodies.

Even if Sun Sheng tried to trade injury for injury, he could no longer kill Zhang Maoxiang.

He was forced to twist aside and dodge the incoming strike.

He followed the spear with his eyes.

There, not far off, stood a female officer of Six Doors. She wore a black brocade uniform, a golden dagger at her waist.

She wielded the long spear.

The spear was over two zhang (nearly 7 meters) long, yet moved in her hands as if alive.

Sun Sheng was furious.

He ignored the woman and soared into the air again like a hawk, diving once more at Zhang Maoxiang.

“How bold!”

Hong Ying furrowed her brows, shouting sternly.

She moved like lightning, her spear following his motion, aimed straight for his vitals.

Mid-air, Sun Sheng twisted, channeling his inner force to his hand, aiming to snap the spear in two.

But as his palm struck the shaft, he felt the weapon tremble and neutralize his strength effortlessly.

His heart trembled—this spear-wielding female officer… was a second-rank fighter too.

“Rustle, rustle…”

A light rain fell from the sky.

It washed the blood from Qiong Aohai’s lips.

His stern, chiseled face was pale.

“Huff… huff…”

Qiong Aohai gasped for breath, eyes locked tightly on Murong Longyuan’s shoulders, waist, and legs.

Suddenly, Murong Longyuan’s left shoulder lifted slightly.

Instinctively, Qiong Aohai struck—a palm technique flowing without thought.

“Bang!” A faint thud.

Incredibly, he had blocked one of Murong Longyuan’s lightning-fast Shaolin Swift Palms.

Murong Longyuan’s deep gaze flickered, the wrinkles at his brow relaxing ever so slightly.

“Clap! Clap! Clap!”

Murong Longyuan launched dozens of rapid strikes.

Qiong Aohai focused all his inner force, no longer thinking—responding purely by instinct and battle sense.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Palm met palm, echoing deep and heavy.

Each of Murong Longyuan’s blows forced Qiong Aohai back, his blood and energy surging chaotically.

But suddenly, Qiong Aohai’s face lit up with joy.

He had blocked them!

At that moment, something clicked inside him. He felt his understanding of the Surging Wave Palm reach a new height.

He could almost grasp the edge of perfection.

But the feeling passed in a flash.

Before he could fully savor it, Murong Longyuan attacked again.

This time with Mountain-Splitting Palm once more—simple, yet devastating with his first-rank inner force.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Their battle raged on.

Murong Longyuan only knocked Qiong Aohai back—enough to rattle his qi, never aiming to kill.

And in that moment, Qiong Aohai understood.

He looked at Murong Longyuan, stunned.

This old, wrinkled, dark-skinned first-rank constable… was training him.

Why?

Qiong Aohai didn’t understand.

But Murong Longyuan gave him no time to think. His palms switched back and forth between the Swift Palms and Mountain-Splitting Palm.

Qiong Aohai coughed blood, his internal force in turmoil.

But gradually, a mysterious sensation came over him.

Then suddenly—

He struck with a palm.

The howling of tides erupted louder than ever, roaring like waves crashing into cliffs.

Murong Longyuan was forced back two steps.

After that strike, Qiong Aohai’s eyes gleamed with clarity.

A smile broke across his face.

He had understood.

In that instant, his Surging Wave Palm reached full mastery. His strength now matched a true first-rank master!

He swept his hands outward, and the sound of crashing waves followed his every motion.

Smooth and natural.

Qiong Aohai bowed respectfully, cupping his fists.

“Thank you, Elder.”

Murong Longyuan said nothing.

He looked at Qiong Aohai with a deep, unreadable gaze—an almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Then, without warning—

He lunged forward like a panther and drew a short spear from his back.

“Thud!”

A sharp pain bloomed in Qiong Aohai’s chest.

His eyes widened.

He looked down.pierced 

A short spear had straight through his chest.

Blood poured out, soaking his robes in an instant.