I become stronger by sacrificing my lifespan, becoming invincible in the world.

Lin Chen retreated again, still avoiding direct confrontation, but instead using his unpredictable movements to weave through Zhao Xiong's fists. His waist knife was not even drawn; he merely used it to parry and deflect attacks while still sheathed.

To outsiders, Lin Chen appeared completely overwhelmed by Zhao Xiong's powerful punches, forced to dodge and unable to retaliate. On Bing Sanwu's side, Zhao Tiegu and Li Quezi's palms were sweating, Shuanzi's face was pale, and Lao Dao squinted, carefully observing Lin Chen's footwork.

Wang Meng, Zhou Qing, and the others already had smiles on their faces.

"As expected, he's only fast on foot; he's no match for me in a real fight," Zhou Qing sneered.

"Considering that his cultivation level is two levels lower, it's not bad that he was able to hide for so long," someone commented from the side.

Only Zhang Heng and a few other seasoned officers discerned the underlying pattern. Lin Chen's evasive maneuvers appeared clumsy, but each time he dodged at the last second, his footwork and rhythm remaining perfectly in place, clearly demonstrating his mastery. His decision not to draw his sword suggested he was observing, or perhaps… waiting for an opportunity.

Zhao Xiong was growing increasingly impatient as his attacks failed to break through the defenses. He had initially thought he could finish off the newly promoted corporal in a few punches, but his opponent proved to be incredibly slippery. With a growing crowd gathering, he knew he would lose face if he couldn't defeat him soon.

"What kind of skill is it to dodge and weave!" Zhao Xiong roared, his fist suddenly changing. He no longer pursued continuity, but instead took a deep breath, his muscles bulging, his right fist retracted, gathering power, and then he suddenly blasted it out!

The ultimate move of the Breaking Formation Fist - Breaking Army Hammer!

This punch concentrated all the power of his sixth level of the Acquired Realm. Before the fist even arrived, the surging air currents made Lin Chen's hair fly! He was forcing Lin Chen to take the punch head-on!

In a flash, Lin Chen made his move.

Instead of retreating, he stepped forward half a step to meet the force of the punch! At the same time, the waist knife that had never been drawn suddenly rose up and pointed at Zhao Xiong's wrist, sheath still attached!

It wasn't a chop, it wasn't a slash, it was a "point"! A precise point was placed on the nerve endings on the inside of Zhao Xiong's wrist!

Zhao Xiong felt a numbness in his wrist, and his punch, which had been fully charged, went astray, grazing Lin Chen's shoulder and hitting nothing. To make matters worse, because he had used too much force, his body involuntarily staggered forward.

Just as he leaned forward and his defenses were wide open, Lin Chen's scabbard followed like a shadow, flashing forward and pressing against Zhao Xiong's chest at the Tanzhong acupoint.

Although no blade was used, this thrust concentrated all of Lin Chen's strength, making it both fast and accurate.

"puff!"

Zhao Xiong groaned, feeling as if he had been hit hard in the chest. He felt a lump in his throat and staggered back three or four steps before he could barely stand. His face flushed red as he glared at Lin Chen with a mixture of shock and anger.

The entire room fell silent.

No one expected the situation to reverse so quickly. Just a moment ago, Zhao Xiong had the upper hand, but the next moment, he was struck in a vital spot by the scabbard, and his defeat was already evident.

"You flatter me." Lin Chen sheathed his sword, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and spoke calmly.

Zhao Xiong's face flushed red, and he wanted to go again, but Wang Meng stopped him with a cold shout: "Enough! Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough?!"

Zhao Xiong gritted his teeth, glared fiercely at Lin Chen, and retreated sullenly behind Wang Meng.

Wang Meng stared at Lin Chen, his eyes sinister: "Impressive footwork, excellent eyesight. Corporal Lin is indeed a man of hidden talent."

"Just a fluke," Lin Chen said calmly.

"Just lucky?" Wang Meng sneered. "Next time, you won't be so lucky. Let's go!"

He led his men, the second platoon, away through the crowd. The way the surrounding soldiers looked at Lin Chen was now quite different. Before, there might have been some contempt, but now there was more fear and scrutiny. To be able to defeat a stronger opponent with such precision was not something that could be achieved by luck alone.

Lin Chen returned to Bing Sanwu and the others. Zhao Tiegu patted him on the shoulder forcefully, and Li the Cripple grinned broadly. Shuanzi looked at him with admiration, while Lao Dao whispered, "Sergeant, your pressure point strike was spot on."

"Let's go, it's time for training." Lin Chen acted as if he had just done something insignificant, and took the lead in walking towards the training area of ​​the drill ground.

As he passed Zhang Heng, Zhang Heng suddenly spoke up: "Not bad swordsmanship. It looks like it's still sheathed, but the power has already penetrated. Who taught you?"

Lin Chen stopped: "I just came up with this on my own, I hope you'll forgive me, Captain."

The mornings at Ghost Cry Pass are shattered by the rapid sound of horses' hooves.

Lin Chen was leading his squad in their routine drills outside the Cliff Fortress. Snowflakes stung their faces, the blades cut through the howling wind, and the shouts of the thirty men were rough yet orderly.

Suddenly, a long, drawn-out horn sounded from the direction of the distant fortress.

It was neither the sternness of an enemy attack nor the somberness of a troop rotation, but a rare, long cry carrying a certain ceremonial significance.

"stop."

Lin Chen sheathed his sword and raised his hand. The thirty people behind him instantly stopped and stood silently. Only their heavy breathing condensed into white mist in the cold air.

He squinted at the pass.

The heavy ironwood city gates were slowly opening, wider than usual. A troop of about a hundred cavalrymen, their armor gleaming, surged out first, carrying bright yellow dragon banners and some kind of insignia he didn't recognize. Sunlight shone on their steel breastplates, reflecting a blinding, cold light.

Then came the ceremonial procession.

The procession stretched out like a magnificent python, stretching out from the city gate and standing out starkly against the desolate snowfield. It included guards in brocade robes holding halberds, eunuchs carrying incense burners and palace fans, and attendants riding tall horses dressed as civil or military officials.

"People from the capital." Zhao Tiegu had appeared beside Lin Chen at some point, his voice low and tinged with barely perceptible tension. "Judging by the flags... it's a royal procession. And over there—"

He raised his chin and pointed to the middle of the line.

There stood an exceptionally exquisite carriage. Four pure white horses, without a single blemish, pulled the carriage shafts. The carriage was crafted from deep purple sandalwood, carved with intricate phoenixes and cloud patterns. Pale gold gauze curtains hung from the windows, swaying gently in the breeze.

Beside the carriage, a magnificent black horse sat a young man in fine clothes. He was about twenty years old, with a handsome face, but his eyes and brows carried an air of pampered nobility and aloofness.

He was wearing a dark cloak with a snow-white fox fur trim around the collar, and he was slightly turning his head, talking to the person inside the carriage.

"That's the Third Prince, Lin Jing," Zhao Tiegu's voice lowered even further. "I've heard... he's quite favored by the Emperor."

Lin Chen didn't say anything.

His gaze was fixed on the window of the carriage.

The wind suddenly picked up, stirring up snow dust and lifting a corner of the pale golden veil.

It was just a fleeting moment.

But Lin Chen saw it clearly.

A woman was sitting in the car.

Clad in white as snow, with flowing black hair, a beautiful and ethereal profile flashed by through the swaying curtain.

Her skin was like jade, her eyebrows and eyes like paintings, but those eyes that were once full of smiles were now lowered, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow under her eyes, revealing a kind of frozen tranquility and...distantness.

Su Qingxue.

Even if we were hundreds of steps apart, even if I only caught a glimpse of his profile.

Lin Chen would never admit his mistake.

Sixteen years of childhood sweethearts, a cold farewell in prison three months ago, and the almost fatal knife wound to the chest... every detail has long been etched into the bone marrow with blood and hatred.

My heart skipped a beat.