Unparalleled medical and martial arts skills, saving the CEO's fiancée at the start.

After Ye Chen finished speaking, he suddenly disappeared from the spot.

Qin Wuyi's pupils finally showed an extremely subtle change.

In his vision, Ye Chen's figure stretched into a blurry gray shadow, his speed more than 30% faster than before.

Qin Wuyi flicked the tip of his sword, and a bluish-white sword light coiled upwards like a swimming dragon, piercing straight at the gray figure.

Before the sword light arrived, Ye Chen had already moved up from the center line, almost burrowing into the sword.

This reckless fighting style made Qin Wuyi frown. He rolled back his longsword, the blade drawing a bloody gash on Ye Chen's shoulder, while simultaneously using the momentum to retreat.

Ye Chen seemed completely oblivious to the pain, forcefully grabbing Qin Wuyi's sword sheath with his left hand while simultaneously slashing his short sword upwards with a swift and ruthless motion, like a wild wolf cornered on the edge of a cliff.

With Qin Wuyi's sword sheath restrained, he flipped his wrist and forcefully smashed the hilt of his sword against the back of Ye Chen's blade.

With a clang, sparks flew everywhere. Ye Chen's knife was shaken so badly that it almost slipped from his hand, his thumb and forefinger split open, and blood smeared all over the hilt.

But Ye Chen just wouldn't back down.

The two exchanged more than a dozen moves on the pebble beach by the river, so fast that it was dazzling to watch.

The ghost servant, clutching his chest, leaned against the warehouse door. Several times he tried to go up and help, but was forced back by the crisscrossing sword energy and blade wind.

The sounds of the river and the clanging of the tin roof mingled together, and the only sounds on the dock were the clatter of weapons clashing and the heavy breathing of the two men.

Qin Wuyi grew colder and colder as the fight progressed, and his swordsmanship became increasingly unpredictable. His sword was like a silver snake, with tricky angles and subtle variations in every strike.

Ye Chen's wounds multiplied, his left arm, back, and calves were soaked in crimson blood, turning his dark clothes black.

But his eyes remained bright, even brighter the more he was hit, as if a fire was burning brighter and brighter inside.

Qin Wuyi suddenly stopped, the tip of her sword pointing diagonally at the ground, her voice calm: "You're not bad. Not many people can withstand my 'Whispering Silk Sword Technique.' If you continue, you will die."

"Who dies is still uncertain. Guess how many needles I have left in my pocket?" Ye Chen laughed, spitting out bloody foam that stained his lips, making his face appear even more arrogant.

Qin Wuyi did not respond to that sentence.

Ye Chen didn't want to delay any longer.

This guy is too strange. He can still laugh even after suffering so many injuries. He's just like Su Youdao back then.

Ye Chen disliked unpredictability, so he used all his strength in his next sword strike.

The sword light pierced the night sky like a shooting star falling from the heavens, heading straight for Ye Chen's heart.

The sword strike was so fast and the sword intent so chilling that Ye Chen had no time to dodge.

He did only one thing: he poured all the remaining power of the dragon's heart into the blade, and instead of retreating, he advanced, slashing out at the sword's edge.

The clash of swords did not produce the expected loud noise, but rather a very brief sound, like two pieces of hard metal scraping against each other at extremely high speed.

Then came the shockwave, a visible shockwave that exploded from beneath their feet, sending rocks and river water flying everywhere, even shaking the iron doors of the warehouse.

The ghost servant felt a tightness in his chest and was pushed back several steps by the shockwave, almost hitting the iron wall with the back of his head.

Ye Chen's knife broke.

Half of the blade flew out and embedded itself in the soil three zhang away. The hilt was still clutched in his hand, and his tiger's mouth was already a bloody mess.

Qin Wuyi's sword also had a chipped edge, and half of the sword tip flew off and fell into the river.

The two stood facing each other, with less than two steps between them.

"You used your knife to block my sword." Qin Wuyi's voice cracked for the first time, as if she couldn't believe it.

"What? Is that not allowed?"

"In your strike... no, you didn't use any swordsmanship at all. You used medical principles. You found the weakest point in my sword technique and used the tip of your blade to press it down."

"I already told you, I'm a doctor." Ye Chen gasped for breath, almost completely exhausted, his legs trembling violently, but he still managed to stay upright.

"Impossible..."

"No matter how fancy your swordsmanship is, it's really just a special way of generating power. I've been observing for a long time and I've finally figured it out. This 'Silk Sword' technique of yours will damage your liver meridian if you use it for too long. So every twenty thrusts, your breathing will become shallow. On the sixtieth thrust, you took a breath, revealing a flaw that lasted less than half a second. That's exactly what I was waiting for."

Qin Wuyi's expression finally changed.

He stared at Ye Chen as if he were looking at a monster.

Then he looked down at his hand; the web between his thumb and forefinger was split open, and blood was dripping down the hilt of the sword.

He had practiced the silken sword technique for twenty years, and his sword strikes were as smooth as mercury flowing onto the ground. He thought he had no flaws.

But this young man, covered in blood, used a broken knife to see through the greatest secret of his swordsmanship in the face of life and death.

Qin Wuyi sheathed the chipped sword, took a step back, and for the first time ever, smiled—a smile as cold as the last layer of ice on a river: "I won't kill you tonight. Next time we meet, I'll have a better sword."

After Qin Wuyi finished speaking, he turned and walked towards the riverbank. After taking a few steps, he leaped and landed on a half-submerged small boat on the riverbank.

In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Ye Chen remained standing there, like a sculpture whose blood had been dried by the wind.

Several seconds later, his knees buckled, and he knelt on the gravel beach, falling backward.

The ghost servant staggered over and caught him, only to find that Ye Chen had already fainted, his lips were bluish-black, and his whole body was as cold as if he had been pulled out of ice water.

"You little brat, how come you're so tough? Quick, call a car." Ghost Servant's hands trembled slightly, a rare occurrence. He took off his coat and wrapped it around Ye Chen, then shouted towards the hidden sentries not far away.

At daybreak, Ye Chen was sent back to the Jiang family villa.

Jiang Ruoxi hadn't slept all night. When she saw Ye Chen being carried in covered in blood, her face instantly turned deathly pale.

She didn't cry or scream; she just gripped Ye Chen's cold hand tightly, her nails almost digging into her palm.

The family doctor and the ghost servant treated his wounds together, which took more than two hours.

When Ye Chen woke up, it was already afternoon.

Ye Chen opened his mouth, his throat burning dry, when a faint voice came from the side: "Don't move."

He turned his head and saw Jiang Ruoxi sitting on a chair by the bed, her eyes dark and swollen, clearly having been watching over her for a long time.

Jiang Ruoxi held a bowl of warm rice porridge in her hand, stirred it gently with a spoon, blew on it, and held it to his lips: "Drink some first."

Ye Chen wanted to laugh, but the movement aggravated the injury at the corner of his mouth, causing him to wince in pain. He still forced a smile and said, "Wife, I won by half a move."

Jiang Ruoxi fed him rice porridge little by little, her movements very gentle, as if she were taking care of someone who might break at any moment: "I know, Uncle Gui told me that you almost died."

"It's alright, he won't die. Doctors are tough." Ye Chen tried to raise his hand, but Jiang Ruoxi pressed it down.

Jiang Ruoxi's hand was warm and strong, carrying an undeniable domineering air.

"Ye Chen, promise me one thing." She looked at him, her eyes red, but she didn't shed a tear.

"What is it?"

"If you do this again, think of me first. I won't allow you to die at someone else's hands. If you're going to die, it can only be at my hands."

Looking at her, Ye Chen felt the fire in his heart warm and softened by the bowl of rice soup.

He laboriously raised his left hand and hooked her fingers around his: "Okay, once we get rid of the black water, I'll serve you tea and water every day. If you tell me to go east, I'll never go west, okay?"

Jiang Ruoxi didn't answer, she just looked at Ye Chen.