Starting with a beautiful woman's private doctor

The already unbalanced dragon staggered forward two steps, barely managing to steady himself by bracing himself with one hand on the ground.

He turned to look at Master Ding, his eyes filled with surprise.

Just a moment ago, Master Ding's palm was pressed against his back.

If it weren't for a friendly spar, that palm strike wouldn't have just broken his balance and caused him to fall to the ground in a sorry state; it would have... taken his life!

Guojianglong took a deep breath, stood up, raised his hands, grinned at Dingye, and said, "I admit defeat."

Li Erdan and Zhang Laosan were both stunned, as was Erniu.

These people, at most, know a little bit about things; they can't even be considered real martial arts practitioners.

Therefore, it was impossible to discern any hidden secrets in the exchange just now.

In their eyes, the dragon who crossed the river was still launching a fierce attack, but his attack was neutralized once. How could he suddenly admit defeat?

Guo Jianglong lowered his hands, his smile showing no trace of defeat or frustration. "Master Ding, you truly are the first person in the history of Nanxiang to unify the region. You are indeed still vigorous despite your age."

"I thought that even if things went badly, I could still get some advantage from you, but now it seems I was too naive."

"With my meager skills, let alone defeating you, if it were a life-or-death battle, I'm afraid I would die at your hands within three moves."

Three moves?!

Li Erdan and Zhang Laosan looked extremely grim.

They never imagined that the gap between Master Ding and the Crossing Dragon would be so great.

They had no doubt about the truthfulness of these words.

The reason is simple: given Guojianglong's arrogant attitude just now, he would never have said such polite words unless he was truly outmatched.

Now that even the out-of-town dragon has been defeated, it seems that this unprecedented upheaval in the southern region will not happen again today.

It's even possible that there won't be another one for the next ten years or so.

Erniu, however, didn't care about anything else and shouted loudly, "Master Ding is awesome!"

The words were a bit crude, but most of the villagers present laughed.

To them, Master Ding is the embodiment of power and order.

As long as Master Ding is alive, Nanxiang will not be in chaos.

Therefore, they all genuinely hoped that Master Ding would win.

Unexpectedly, Guojianglong suddenly turned around and bowed respectfully towards the direction of the horse team.

Then, with his hands clasped in a fist, he shouted in undisguised reverence, "Master, it's your turn."

As soon as he finished speaking, a strange sound of water came from behind the caravan.

It wasn't the splashing sound of a horse's hooves hitting a puddle; it was a deeper, slower, and more oppressive sound.

Even without wind, ripples spread across the surface of Longquan Lake, one after another.

Then everyone saw a figure walking on the water from the center of the lake.

He was an old man, wearing a faded blue long gown with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing two thin but firm arms.

His hair was completely white, but his face showed no signs of aging; his brow bones were high and his eyes were deep-set.

Her eyes shone with a light that seemed beyond what one would expect at her age.

It wasn't the shrewdness that occasionally flashed in the cloudy eyes of an old man, but a clearer and sharper light.

It's like the purest edge left after decades of polishing by time.

He walked barefoot on the water, and with each step he took, the water beneath his feet sank.

Then he leaped forward, his body drawing a straight white line across the lake's surface. Water splashed behind him, then returned to calm before he landed.

He crossed the nearly forty-foot-wide lake in just three steps.

When the third foot touched the bluestone slab on the shore, several fine cracks silently appeared on the slab, as if it had been pressed down by something extremely heavy.

The air around Longquan Lake seemed to sink a little as he landed.

Ding Ye's fingers tightened around his pipe. Looking at the white-haired, youthful-faced old man before him, he couldn't help but exclaim, "Riding the waves, leaping ten zhang... you are a Grandmaster?!"

His voice wasn't loud, but the lakeside was so quiet that you could hear the wind blowing across the water.

These words still reached the ears of everyone present.

They didn't know what a Grandmaster was, but they could clearly see how the old man had arrived riding the waves.

This almost supernatural ability indicates that the person is no ordinary individual.

Erniu froze on the spot. Dingye had fought two foreign aids alone without blinking, and only became a little more serious at the end when facing the continuous attacks of Guojianglong.

But when Master Ding uttered the word "Grandmaster," he completely lost his nerve.

Because Master Ding said that he is indeed very strong, but with the abilities of a Grandmaster, he could be crushed with a single finger!

The old man in blue stood with his hands behind his back on the bluestone slab, his gaze sweeping over Master Ding. "Oh? I didn't expect that this remote and impoverished place would produce a fellow with some discernment."

Master Ding didn't respond to that question, but instead clasped his hands in a fist and asked, "May I ask your esteemed name?"

"You, a mere Transformation Realm martial artist, are not worthy to inquire about my name."

The old man in blue took his hand out from behind his back and let it hang at his side. "Will you admit defeat yourself, or will I teach you a lesson and spare your breath before you admit defeat?"

All eyes on Ding Ye were focused on him.

The villagers who had been cheering for Master Ding just moments ago all fell silent. They didn't understand martial arts, let alone the concept of a grandmaster or master, but they could read Master Ding's expression.

That face, which had never shown fear in front of them, was now filled with solemnity.

After a moment of silence, Master Ding lowered his clasped hands and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, assuming the starting stance.

"I know I am no match for you, but in the territory of Nanxiang, there is no rule of surrendering without a fight."

A hint of displeasure flashed in the old man's eyes. "He's courting death."

The next second, he moved.

It's not running, it's not jumping, but a method that's close to "disappearing and teleporting".

The image of him standing with his hands behind his back still lingered on everyone's retinas; he had already appeared in front of Master Ding.

The five fingers of the right hand are brought together to form a palm, and a sharp sonic boom is emitted the moment the palm tip cuts through the air.

It was as if someone had cracked a whip in mid-air, causing everyone present to simultaneously buzz in their eardrums.

The seemingly thin hand slapped straight down toward Master Ding's chest, the movement simple and without any fancy moves.

It was a single palm strike, aimed straight for the center.

Master Ding reacted the instant he moved.

He didn't try to dodge, because he couldn't avoid the attack at all.

He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest, with the outside of his forearms facing outwards, his knees slightly bent, and his center of gravity lowered.

He channeled all his energy into the outside of his arms, taking the ghostly palm strike head-on.

The moment the palm struck the forearm, a muffled thud exploded in the air.

It wasn't the crisp sound of a punch landing squarely, but a muffled thud, like someone hitting an old bronze gong with a hammer.

The force of the impact sent Ding Ye flying, his body tracing a straight line through the air before his back slammed into the stone railing ten meters behind him.

The bluestone railing made a "crack" sound, and several cracks appeared centered on the point of impact.

Dingye slid down the broken railing, knelt on one knee, blood continuously spilling from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the bluestone slab beneath his feet...