Chapter Seventy-Nine: Failing to Recognize the Great One

Xiao Cheng sat inside the Lamborghini, but his condition was far from good. Having just blocked the flying sword head-on, his meridians had suffered significant internal injuries.

“Puh!” Xiao Cheng spat out a mouthful of blood, wiped the corner of his mouth, and finally felt a little better. Still, his strength was too lacking—otherwise, he would never have been wounded.

He had already placed the flying sword beneath his feet, pinned down by the Azure Edge Sword, and pressed firmly with his foot. Temporarily severing the connection between the flying sword and Wang Qiyi was doable, but as time dragged on, his spiritual awareness would inevitably falter. Once Wang Qiyi managed to reconnect with the sword, he would certainly attempt to recall it with all his might.

Wang Qiyi was only at the third stage of Innate Realm. With the flying sword pinned underfoot and suppressed by the Azure Edge Sword, he had no chance of successfully recalling it.

Now that Xiao Cheng controlled Wang Qiyi’s flying sword, he had the upper hand. Wang Qiyi lacked the resolve to sacrifice his own arm and would never abandon his sword; thus, he was forced to follow Xiao Cheng’s lead. Thinking of this, Xiao Cheng smiled faintly, his snow-white teeth stained with blood.

He was no virtuous saint. To those close to him, he could be magnanimous, but with enemies, he repaid every slight with vengeance. Wang Qiyi had set his sights on him and even targeted Zhuo Qinglian—Xiao Cheng would never let him off.

With his driving skills, shaking off Wang Qiyi would be easy, but he chose not to. Instead, he deliberately slowed down, letting Wang Qiyi catch up.

Xiao Cheng adjusted his speed so the two cars remained about sixty meters apart. He did this because Wang Qiyi’s spiritual sense extended only about sixty meters; if Wang Qiyi could not reestablish contact with the flying sword, there would be no entertainment.

Feeling the sword beneath his foot suddenly struggle, Xiao Cheng realized Wang Qiyi had reconnected with it. A cold smile curled at his lips. He slammed the accelerator, and the Lamborghini surged forward, widening the gap with the Porsche.

Wang Qiyi, driving the Porsche, felt his chest tighten and his vision darken; a mouthful of blood sprayed onto the windshield. With the distance exceeding his spiritual sense, the connection to his sword was forcibly severed, inflicting serious damage.

Glancing in his rearview mirror, Xiao Cheng saw the blood on the Porsche’s windshield and knew Wang Qiyi had suffered backlash from the broken sword connection. He felt a secret satisfaction—weren’t you pretending to be a master? Trying to snatch things? Now, let’s see how much pain you can endure!

Previously, Xiao Cheng had merely blocked the connection, causing no harm. This time, he had violently torn it apart, dealing Wang Qiyi a heavy blow.

He admitted he was no match for Wang Qiyi, but when it came to cunning tricks, Wang Qiyi was no competitor.

Xiao Cheng slowed his car again, reducing the distance. Wang Qiyi, having learned his lesson, was less eager this time and took quite a while before reconnecting with the sword.

This time, the sword struggled far more fiercely—Wang Qiyi clearly intended to resolve it in one go. But Xiao Cheng would never allow that, pressing the sword down and repeating his tactic.

Wang Qiyi, seated in the Porsche, suffered another heavy blow, coughing up blood once more.

At this point, he realized Xiao Cheng’s strategy: using the car’s distance to forcibly sever the connection with his flying sword, thus injuring him.

Even knowing Xiao Cheng’s intentions, he had no choice but to comply. He absolutely could not lose his life-bound sword; without it, not only would his vitality be greatly diminished, but he might never forge another. A cultivator without a flying sword was but a cripple.

A dignified Innate expert, now reduced to such a state—battered by a mere peak Foundation Establishment youth—he felt utterly aggrieved, nearly driven to spit blood again, though he had already spat plenty.

Xiao Cheng repeated the tactic over a dozen times, tormenting Wang Qiyi until he was utterly exhausted, finally feeling a rush of satisfaction.

His method of tormenting Wang Qiyi with the flying sword might not be unprecedented, but it was certainly unique. After all, no one else possessed such a disparity between spiritual sense and actual strength; typically, someone capable of intercepting a flying sword would simply kill the opponent outright, saving the trouble.

This was a technique Xiao Cheng had painstakingly devised shortly after his rebirth—he called it “flying a kite.” Now it seemed even more effective than he’d imagined; no one would willingly abandon their flying sword.

“Young Master Xiao, I admit defeat. Consider it my blind arrogance. Name your terms and return the sword to me!” Wang Qiyi’s voice, empowered by true energy, sounded from behind.

Xiao Cheng heard him and let out a cold laugh. Did Wang Qiyi think this was a child’s game? Now he wanted to admit defeat, offer a few compliments, and end it? If Xiao Cheng had the means to destroy the sword, he would have done so already, before Wang Qiyi could sever the life-bond, and killed him outright.

Yet, he was curious about Wang Qiyi’s true identity and purpose in the Xiao family. Keeping him alive might have its uses.

At this moment, Wang Qiyi looked utterly miserable, his face pale as gold, the black cloth on his face stained deep red, his chest soaked in blood. His mood could only be described as regretful to the extreme. Had he known Xiao Cheng could intercept the flying sword, he would never have acted so recklessly—not for a jade pendant, nor even for an immortal pill.

It was only now he realized he’d provoked a true monster—someone capable of using a flying sword as a tool for torment. “Monstrous” was the only word that fit.

As for how Xiao Cheng managed such feats, Wang Qiyi no longer pondered. Cultivation was a mysterious realm; anything was possible.

What mattered now was how to retrieve his sword.

He had tried repeatedly to sever the life-bond, but failed. The sword’s value aside, losing it would mean he might never possess another, and the loss would inflict even greater harm.

After his plea, he heard Xiao Cheng’s mocking and cold voice from ahead: “I haven’t finished playing yet.”

Hearing Xiao Cheng’s reply, Wang Qiyi felt a wave of helplessness. Xiao Cheng openly declared he wasn’t done playing, and Wang Qiyi could only stew in frustration, powerless to do anything else. If Xiao Cheng wished to continue, Wang Qiyi could only let him.

He was two realms above Xiao Cheng, an Innate expert, yet his cultivation meant nothing here. In fact, he now wished he had never reached Innate Realm—then he wouldn’t be burdened by the flying sword.

Sitting in the car, Xiao Cheng laughed freely. Since his rebirth, Wang Qiyi had secretly targeted him many times, causing him much hardship.

He had tricked Xiao Fusheng into believing Xiao Cheng and Yu Jia had an affair, spread rumors within the clan, and plotted against Zhuo Qinglian, placing Xiao Cheng in danger. Because of Wang Qiyi’s slander, Xiao Fusheng still sought ways to force Yu Jia to remarry. All of this originated from Wang Qiyi.

Tormenting Wang Qiyi now was only interest; the principal was yet to be collected. There would be plenty of opportunities in the future—no need to rush, patience was the key.

Besides, even if he wanted to deal with Wang Qiyi now, it was unlikely. Despite his injuries, Wang Qiyi was still an Innate expert—a starved camel is bigger than a horse. Xiao Cheng was not his match.

Glancing out the car window, Xiao Cheng spotted several tall smokestacks in the distance—a steel mill, he recalled. His heart stirred. Flooring the accelerator, he left Wang Qiyi behind and sped toward the mill.

Upon arrival, Xiao Cheng wasted no time, entering the factory and locating the steel furnace.

The furnace brimmed with molten iron, radiating intense heat no ordinary person could withstand. Using true energy to shield himself, Xiao Cheng climbed to a vantage point, pulled out Wang Qiyi’s flying sword, and tossed it without hesitation into the furnace.

The sword sparked briefly amid the molten iron, then vanished.

“No! No!” Wang Qiyi, like a madman, rushed in from outside, shouting wildly at Xiao Cheng atop the platform. Seeing Xiao Cheng head straight for the steel mill, he knew what was coming, but his driving skills were inferior; he couldn’t catch up.

“Heh! Sorry, you’re too late!” Xiao Cheng looked at the still-masked Wang Qiyi and smiled coldly, his eyes devoid of mercy. Everything was Wang Qiyi’s own doing.

Wang Qiyi knew his greatest fear had come to pass. Staring at the blazing furnace, his mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came. His expression was desolate; he slumped to the ground, staring blankly at Xiao Cheng.