The Only Move the Third Young Master of the Qin Family Knew Was "Sky-Shrouding Palm." And Naturally, That Was What He Used Again.
The second time he struck, the move came even more naturally. The internal energy flowed smoother, and the essence of the "One Hand Shrouding the Heavens" was fully unleashed.
It felt as if the heavens and earth were collapsing inward, shrinking rapidly the moment his palm flew out. That single hand seemed to possess a gravitational pull that devoured the sky itself. The gusts it generated were like a frenzied tornado at sea, roaring with the power to rend everything in its path.
The one who had just tried to ambush Qin Ren with a claw attack was none other than Chief Steward Wang—a man who, many years ago, was nicknamed "East Shoe." Though it had been decades since he last wove straw sandals.
Nowadays, Chief Steward Wang no longer had certain… male attributes. But ironically, his martial prowess had grown even stronger after he began cultivating a forbidden, castration-based martial art: The Lotus Scripture.
But when Qin Ren's Sky-Shrouding Palm came crashing down with full force, Wang flinched.
He felt the world shrinking as that massive hand expanded before him. In the center of the palm spun a vortex, a spiraling hell that seemed to pull everything into oblivion.
That palm exuded nothing but despair—a void without escape, a whirlpool that promised to shred anything it swallowed.
With a screech, Chief Steward Wang retracted his claw and leapt backward—but even so, a single wisp of the palm wind brushed against his hand.
Silently, and with no warning, his hand contorted grotesquely. The five fingers bent backward and slapped against the back of his palm like snapped branches. The skin split open like cracked, barren earth.
Bang!
Wang slammed into the door, which instantly exploded into splinters.
Clutching his mangled, bleeding hand, face pale and drenched in cold sweat, he rasped, "The Sky-Shrouding Palm! That's the Sky-Shrouding Palm! I… never imagined that a boy your age could wield such terrifying force… Today, it seems, I've truly met my end."
Qin Ren chuckled darkly and slowly retracted his hand. "Old eunuch, you're not bad yourself. That palm of mine? It could flatten a wild water buffalo. Didn't think you'd dodge it. Guess you're even slipperier than that buffalo."
Wang was furious. To be compared to livestock—this was an insult he'd never endured in his life. Gnashing his teeth, he shouted, "Brat! Don't think being Qin Xiaoyao's son makes you untouchable! You've injured me—not even the Heavenly King himself can save you now! I'll tear your entire Xiaoyao Manor to pieces!"
At this, a mocking smile curled on Qin Ren's lips—an expression that anyone who had seen Qin Feng before would instantly recognize.
Whenever Qin Feng wore that particular smirk… it meant the Galactic Sword Saint was ready to kill.
Qin Ren and Qin Feng, blood brothers. And when blood is stirred, even their smiles matched.
He bared his teeth in a cold grin and spoke, one word at a time: "You want to kill me? Tear down Xiaoyao Manor? Old freak—I'm the weakest of the Qin sons. Kill me first, then talk about tearing down my family."
Before the last syllable had even left his lips, Qin Ren struck again.
By now, the Sky-Shrouding Palm was second nature to him. It descended like a falling mountain, crashing toward Wang.
Wang had been on guard. Though his mouth ran wild, he dared not truly underestimate Qin Ren. The moment Qin struck, Wang rolled backward through the shattered door with a move known as "Lazy Donkey Rolling," hoping to evade the blow.
But he had overlooked one fatal detail—Qin Ren's agility had reached supernatural levels. In terms of speed, few in the world could rival him.
Just as Wang sprang to his feet, thinking he had dodged the worst, he was stunned to find a palm already pressed against his chest.
Qin Ren stood before him, face nearly touching his own, the Sky-Shrouding Palm planted firmly on his chest like an immovable mountain.
"You…" Wang's mouth opened, but all that came out was a spurt of dark red blood. It splattered across Qin Ren's palm, dyeing it crimson.
"Blood… Handed… Asura…" Wang croaked out those four words before his head slumped sideways. He hit the ground with a thud, legs twitching once—then still.
Qin Ren wore a bloodthirsty smile as he gazed down at the corpse. Satisfied, he turned to leave. As he reached the doorway, he stopped suddenly—face to face with Zhuo Feifan.
Zhuo Feifan nearly collapsed in fear. Those eyes—murderous and wild—locked onto him like a predator eyeing prey.
"Third… Third Young Master… I didn't offend you, did I?" Zhuo stammered, teeth chattering. He knew Wang's strength, and while his own skills weren't bad, compared to Wang he was clearly a tier below. If Qin Ren wanted him dead, he wouldn't even get a chance to scream.
But then Qin Ren's expression shifted.
The killing aura vanished like smoke in the wind. Smiling cheerfully, he patted Zhuo Feifan on the shoulder. "I'm starving. Send up food for two. Oh, and a bowl of ginseng soup. Maybe some millet porridge too. That'll do."
After a beat, he added, "Feifan, you run such a grand inn—how's it you scare so easily? It's just one dead body. In the jianghu, killings happen every day. According to Xiaoyao Manor's unofficial statistics, the Great Qin Empire loses at least ten famous martial artists a day to duels, twenty to bandit raids, and thirty to man-eating inns. But over seventy new names rise to fame each day. Famous warriors? They'll never run out. Look at that old corpse over there."
Qin Ren jabbed a thumb at Wang. "Wasn't he acting all high and mighty? Wanted to kill me? Level my manor? Now look—he's just meat on the floor. You hyped him up like he was invincible, but in front of me? He was nothing. You, my friend, might want to take a few pills to harden your courage. I happen to have a few bottles of Tiger Whip and Leopard Tendon Pills—want some?"
Zhuo Feifan shook his head furiously. "No need, no need! Your kindness is appreciated, Third Young Master! I'll go get your food prepared at once!"
With that, he bolted like a startled hare.
Qin Ren scratched his nose and muttered, "Why's he so scared of me? Am I really that terrifying?"
Shrugging, he strolled off to his room, humming a tune as he went: "I'm feeling so fine… yes, oh so fine…"