Everyone had seen arrogance before, but such arrogance—none of the disciples of the Herb Division or the Pill Division present had ever witnessed.

In the previous gambled matches, when the Pill Division’s Vajras encountered the Herb Division’s Six Arhats, there were occasionally moments of overconfidence. Yet never had there been anything like this—facing a weapon barehanded. Moreover, this was a wager worth fifty taels of gold. Even Zou Shuming, the Pill Division’s top Vajra, would not dare to be so overconfident.

When Cheng Shi heard this, a vivid expression appeared on his face. Although just the night before he had been beaten by Zhang Xiaohua until several of his teeth were knocked out, he was still one of the Ten Vajras—cough cough, even if he ranked at the bottom. He still had some skills, especially his staff technique. In his early years, he had received guidance from an inner sect disciple and had also devoted himself to practicing it for a time. Even Zou Shuming of the Pill Division would praise it highly—it was Cheng Shi’s trump card.

When the matchups for yesterday’s final round were announced, his first reaction was that he would face Zhang Xiaohua today. His second reaction was to take revenge. His third reaction, naturally, was to use the eyebrow-level staff. That day, when Cheng Shi suffered a loss at Zhang Xiaohua’s hands, he had always felt that Zhang Xiaohua’s hand and foot techniques were actually quite ordinary—it was only because he had not taken him seriously and had been careless that Zhang Xiaohua succeeded in a sneak attack. Of course, Cheng Shi also knew that his own unarmed skills were mediocre; only with the staff in hand did he have the confidence to reclaim his revenge from Zhang Xiaohua—and… those fifty taels of gold.

Hearing Zhang Xiaohua say that he was not skilled with weapons, Cheng Shi felt as if he were dreaming. It was as though above his head hung fifty taels’ worth of massive gold ingots. He chuckled and said: “Junior Brother Ren, are you certain you won’t use a weapon?”

Zhang Xiaohua said curiously: “Does Tianmu Peak’s gambling match have a rule that if you use a weapon, I must also use one? If that’s the case, then I’ll just have to reluctantly find a weapon.”

Cheng Shi quickly waved his hands. “No, no. The gambling matches at Tianmu Peak are quite… humane. If you don’t want to use one, no one will force you. However, if Junior Brother Ren doesn’t use a weapon, and I, as your senior brother, still use one, wouldn’t people say I’m bullying the weak? Oh, no—that’s not right—taking advantage of power? Ah, that’s not right either…”

Seeing Cheng Shi so tangled in his thoughts, Zhang Xiaohua smiled and said, “So does Senior Brother Cheng intend not to use a weapon?”

Cheng Shi tightened both hands around the eyebrow-level staff, slightly nervous as he said: “I did have that thought. However, since I’m crossing moves with a strong opponent like Junior Brother Ren, I should naturally use my most powerful techniques. Only then would it be worthy of you, Junior Brother Ren, don’t you think? If I also fought barehanded and later told you that my strongest skill is actually my staff technique, then even if you won, wouldn’t that be somewhat… an unworthy victory?”

This was said so smoothly—it was likely prepared in advance last night.

Zhang Xiaohua smiled, cupped his hands, and said: “Then I must thank Senior Brother Cheng for thinking so highly of me. Shall we begin? You see, Elder Lei is already getting impatient.”

Indeed—here he was, holding a weapon, yet still going on and on explaining himself to someone empty-handed, as if he had no choice. How could the onlookers not frown?

Cheng Shi gave an awkward smile, spun the staff in the air with a flourish, and shouted loudly: “In that case, Junior Brother Ren, be careful—your senior brother is making his move!”

Having said that, he lifted his leg and lunged forward, bringing the staff down in a head-on strike.

Hmph, this Senior Brother Cheng—you’ve already taken advantage by using a weapon, and you won’t even let me have a few courtesy moves? And you still insist on striking first. With bearing like this, how could you be considered a true expert? Zhang Xiaohua secretly grumbled to himself.

Though he thought this, when he saw the eyebrow-level staff come whistling down, Zhang Xiaohua had no intention of testing his skull against the results of his Big Dipper Fist cultivation. Thus, he released his divine sense, and just as the staff’s momentum began to wane, he flashed aside. Then he reached out with his hand, directly grabbing toward the tip of the staff.

Seeing this, Cheng Shi was secretly delighted. With a shake of his hands, he produced a flourish of the staff, striking toward Zhang Xiaohua’s hand. Though the flourish looked impressive, within his divine sense, it was nothing but an empty show. Zhang Xiaohua slightly shifted his hand, reaching toward where the staff tip would land—but just as he was about to seize it, he suddenly recalled what Chen Fengxiao had said the previous night. A smile appeared on his face.

Feign a capture to lure the opponent… or rather, cast a long line to catch a big fish—who doesn’t know how?

So instead of grabbing, he clenched his hand and struck the staff with his fist, then immediately withdrew it. A trace of pain appeared on his face, as though he had truly been struck by the staff. He even sucked in a breath of cold air—so convincing that even Chen Fengxiao, watching from the side, felt his heart tighten.

This is bad. He’s been too overconfident—he’s going to suffer for it.

If even Chen Fengxiao had been deceived, there was no need to mention Cheng Shi. Overjoyed, Cheng Shi swung the staff even more fiercely, the wind whistling loudly. With another sweeping strike, he attacked toward Zhang Xiaohua’s waist.

Zhang Xiaohua drew his hand into his sleeve, performed a swift mid-air flip like a hawk, barely evading the blow again. Then he extended his left fist, striking toward Cheng Shi’s face. Cheng Shi had not yet fully committed to his previous move and hurriedly drew back the staff, holding it horizontally before his eyes. Zhang Xiaohua’s left fist landed squarely on the staff.

Under normal circumstances, that single punch from Zhang Xiaohua carried the force of ten thousand jin—let alone a wooden staff, even an iron one would have shattered. Would Cheng Shi not have coughed blood and died on the spot? But since Zhang Xiaohua was merely putting on a show, he naturally could not use real strength. He only tapped the staff lightly, then borrowed the force to flip backward, staggering several steps before finally steadying himself. With a frightened expression, he said:

“Senior Brother Cheng, your martial skill is truly formidable! It seems my victory the other day was merely a stroke of luck.”

Cheng Shi’s face shone with pride, as if illuminated by those fifty taels of gold. He shouted loudly, “Haha, now you know how formidable I am! Why not hurry up and admit defeat?”

Zhang Xiaohua waved his hand. “No, no. If I admit defeat now, wouldn’t I miss witnessing the splendor of your Pill Division Vajras? Better give your junior brother a chance to admire it a bit longer.”

Sigh, even at a time like this, he was still teasing the other party. But in his wild elation, Cheng Shi probably couldn’t even pick up on the meaning behind the word “admire”. With a flick of his staff, he assumed the stance of “Sweeping Away a Thousand Armies”, not giving Zhang Xiaohua the slightest chance to catch his breath.

Zhang Xiaohua had no choice but to remain patient and engage him in a circling fight.

It truly had to be said—Zhang Xiaohua’s martial skill had now reached an extremely high level. He was no longer confined to executing the fixed forms of the Big Dipper Divine Fist. Instead, he responded to Cheng Shi’s moves by casually producing corresponding stances. Every move was derived from the Big Dipper Divine Fist, only with slight variations in angle or arm position. He himself knew that all these movements originated from the one hundred and eight forms—or rather, counting both forward and reverse, a total of two hundred and sixteen forms. Yet to the eyes of others, it appeared as an endless stream of different techniques unfolding one after another.

Moreover, with the slight activation of his Piaomiao Step, his movements became elusive and unpredictable. His punches and palm strikes were like antelope horns hanging in the air—traceless, without any sign to follow. Though Cheng Shi’s eyebrow-level staff roared like a flood dragon swinging its tail, relentlessly pursuing Zhang Xiaohua, it could not even touch a corner of his clothing.

Those with higher martial skill—such as the five Consecrated Elders, Chen Fengxiao, and Wu Zhouxu—had already begun to notice something unusual. Though they could not accurately gauge Zhang Xiaohua’s true strength, from these seemingly ordinary moves that turned decay into the miraculous, they could already tell that Cheng Shi was certainly not his match. As for whether Zhang Xiaohua could defeat the other Vajras, they had no clear judgment.

As the saying goes: those within the game are blind to it. Nothing could better describe Cheng Shi at this moment. Staff strike after staff strike, he always felt that he was just about to knock Zhang Xiaohua down or force him out of the circle. Yet Zhang Xiaohua was like a small flower in a raging wind—whether the wind was strong or weak, he always swayed in the same posture. The amplitude might vary, but he would never be pressed flat to the ground. Even when it seemed he was about to snap under the gale, the moment the wind lessened, he would stand tall again!

Thus, Cheng Shi grew ever more focused, exerting greater and greater force, completely casting aside his increasingly disordered inner breath and his lengthening, labored breathing.

Under his focused, aggressive offense—where he firmly held the initiative—and under the defense of Zhang Xiaohua, who was clearly unable to hold out and kept retreating while fighting, the two fighters gradually shifted sideways, inching closer toward the Herb Division disciples.

The wind noise from the swinging staff made the Herb Division disciples standing far away tremble with fear. Seeing Zhang Xiaohua retreating in this direction, Qi Weicheng, who was standing at the front of the disciples, smiled faintly. He tugged at Chen Fengxiao’s sleeve and pointed at the ground beneath them. Chen Fengxiao immediately understood. He turned back to look at the disciples and waved his hand. The dozens of disciples in the front row, all suppressing amused smiles, crouched down and carefully retreated backward. Once the rear space was cleared, Chen Fengxiao and Qi Weicheng, together with the Six Arhats, also moved further back, opening up a large empty space in front.

On the opposite side, the Pill Division disciples all extended their middle fingers toward the Herb Division, gesturing and loudly jeering, hoping Cheng Shi could hear them.

Unfortunately, Cheng Shi had long taken the Pill Division disciples’ warnings as encouragement. While swinging his staff down at Zhang Xiaohua, he didn’t even bother to glance toward his own side. He casually shook his hair, completely unconcerned about whether they were nearing the edge of the arena.

It was obvious—there was still some distance to the Herb Division disciples, and Zhang Xiaohua was right in front of him anyway. Even if someone were to be pushed out of bounds, it would be Zhang Xiaohua first. What did he have to fear?

In truth, even Chen Fengxiao and the others were sweating inwardly. Zhang Xiaohua kept retreating step by step, clearly trying to lure Cheng Shi out of bounds. But he had no eyes on his back—how could he see the boundary line? If he accidentally stepped out first, wouldn’t that backfire completely?

At that moment, even Elder Lei and the others stood up, moving to the side of the table, watching the end of the wagered duel with full attention.

Zhang Xiaohua had already released his divine sense and clearly marked the boundary line. Once they were close enough, he reached out again to grab the staff.

Cheng Shi, delighted, brought another heavy staff strike crashing down. Zhang Xiaohua raised his hand to block it—striking his palm directly. He immediately feigned pain, while his other hand shot out at once, gripping the staff with both hands.

With a slight force, Cheng Shi was pulled forward involuntarily. Zhang Xiaohua released his grip, ducked low, slipped past the staff, and without even looking back, delivered a kick straight to that man’s backside.

The force wasn’t great, but it was just enough to send Cheng Shi stumbling several steps forward.