Republic of China Era: Entering the Dao through Divine Strike.

Guangping Iron Pen Judge.

Cui Laojiu (Old Cui's Wine)

"Li Xin." Old Cui twirled his judge's pen, which buzzed like two iron-winged flies fluttering in his ear. "You acted like a tyrant in the capital, and now you want to run wild in Guangping? Today, I will rid you of this scourge for the sake of my fellow martial artists!"

Before he finished speaking, he pounced out like a hawk.

The judge's pen moved up and down, pointing towards Li Xin's brow and dantian.

The pen tip cut through the air with a sharp, hissing sound...

The blue light traced two thin arcs in the air.

At the same time, the seven people behind him made their move.

Two sharp blades slashed down from the left and right sides, blocking any escape route;

A short spear emerged from under Cui Laojiu's armpit, aimed straight for Li Xin's throat;

Four longswords pierced the shoulders and knees, their flashes a dazzling display of power...

The combined attack of the eight was like a net woven over ten years, sealing off all of Li Xin's escape routes.

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Chapter 191 Counterattack, Inhuman

Li Xin flicked his index and middle fingers lightly.

No one could see what he was playing.

Cui Laojiu's judge's pen was still three feet away from Li Xin's brow when he suddenly stopped.

A tiny red dot, the size of a pinhead, appeared right in the center of my forehead and quickly expanded.

A trickle of blood flowed down his nose and dripped onto his gray beard.

The judge's pen slipped from his loosened fingers and fell to the blue brick floor with two clinks.

He opened his mouth, but the expression on his face was neither anger nor fear; it was confusion.

He had practiced his judge's pen for fifty years and never imagined he would die like this.

He didn't even see how the other person made their move.

Then he lay on his back, crashing to the ground.

Li Xin flicked his fingers repeatedly.

Seven thin black shadows flew out one after another, each striking a person squarely between the eyebrows.

Sharp knives, short guns, long swords—all the weapons stopped three feet away from him, falling to the ground along with their owners. Eight corpses lay scattered on the floor of the flower hall; some were still clutching knives in their deathbeds, their fingers frozen on the hilts, their knuckles white.

The flower hall was deathly silent...

Qian Bojun slumped in the corner, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

His gaze was fixed on the ground.

He stared at the small hole between Cui Laojiu's eyebrows, from which blood was seeping out.

Cui Laojiu was a tribute he had brought from southern Fujian at the cost of three years' worth of silver. He had roamed the underworld for twenty years, and his judge's pen had killed countless famous masters.

He didn't even get past one move.

In the corner, Master Hu slumped to the ground, his legs shaking as if someone were pulling his tendons, his crotch was soaked, and he was making incoherent sobs.

Li Xin stood up and straightened his clothes.

"Old Qian, you've got guts, but your brain isn't so sharp."

He slowly stood up.

Suddenly, a loud shout came from outside the door: "Do you think you can leave?"

The sound was as loud as a bronze bell being struck, making the window frames of the flower hall vibrate.

Before the sound had even faded, a flurry of footsteps came from the direction of the government office gate.

There were dozens of people, their footsteps echoing loudly on the blue brick ground, like the beating of drums.

The sound of footsteps was mixed with the clanging of weapons, scabbards clashing, gun barrels clashing, and the screeching of chains dragging on the ground.

Li Xin stopped and looked up.

A dense crowd surged into the gates of the government office.

They were all dressed in black, tight-fitting outfits, with their cuffs tucked in, leather belts with copper buckles around their waists, and thick-soled boots on their feet.

In the front row were ten large iron shields, their edges sharpened to the point of being like knives, and their surfaces studded with dense iron spikes.

The crossbowmen were in the back row; their crossbows were already drawn, the bolts were stuck in their slots, and the tips were coated with a bluish-green poison.

Dozens of spearmen emerged from the corridors on both sides, their spear tips all pointing towards the flower hall, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

In the center of the crowd, a tall figure strode closer.

This is Wang Donghai.

He was over eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and a burly build.

He was wearing a dark brocade robe with floral patterns, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms with prominent veins.

His arms were thicker than an average person's thighs, with prominent veins standing out on his skin like the roots of an old tree deeply embedded in his flesh.

In the past thirty years, everyone in Guangping who dared to utter a single word of dissent has been beaten to death by these two arms.

He dragged a nine-ringed broadsword backwards in his hand, the copper rings on the back of the blade rattling with each step, each sound like a death knell.

The blade is thick and heavy, with a dark blue sheen on the edge.

He stopped at the bottom of the steps in front of the flower hall, raised his head, and glanced at the corpses lying haphazardly on the ground.

Old Cui lay face up, a bloody hole between his eyebrows.

Seven skilled men in black lay dead on the ground, some without even having time to draw their knives.

His eye twitched.

He had personally tested Cui Laojiu's skills.

Within forty-nine moves, Cui Laojiu couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes, but if it were him, he wouldn't be able to kill his opponent in such a short time either.

But this young man in the blue robe did it.

I heard the code and rushed over; it hasn't been long.

He suppressed the chill in his heart and fixed his gaze on Li Xin's face.

"Li Xin, I knew you were a powerful figure from out of town, with a great reputation in the capital, but I never expected that I would still underestimate you?"

His voice was low, but each word carried a heavy, forceful power, like striking the stone bricks on the ground with a hammer.

Qian Bojun scrambled out from the corner and quickly hid behind Wang Donghai, gripping the hem of Wang Donghai's robe tightly with both hands until his knuckles turned white. "Brother Donghai, this man has an account book."

He knows everything, quickly capture him…

His teeth were chattering, and he spoke haltingly, the last "down" uttered with a long, trembling sound.

Wang Donghai's expression changed, and he glared fiercely at Prefect Qian.

They didn't say anything.

With a clang, the nine-ringed broadsword in his hand was drawn from its sheath, the blade trembled, and the copper rings rang out with a loud buzzing sound.

The shock caused dust to fall from the eaves of the flower hall.

More than fifty guards shouted in unison, their voices shaking the roof tiles.

The shield bearers in the front row slammed their large iron shields heavily onto the ground, and all ten shields landed simultaneously, their edges interlocking to form an iron wall.

The crossbowmen in the back row stepped back three steps and raised their crossbows horizontally.

The flank spearmen flanked from both sides, their spear tips arranged in two dense rows, completely blocking the exit of the flower hall.

"kill."

At Wang Donghai's command, the shield wall slowly advanced.

The spearmen were positioned on either side of the shield wall, their spear tips protruding from the gaps in the shields like poisonous thorns growing from an iron wall.

Li Xin smiled.

With a gentle flick of his right foot, a spear on the ground leaped up and landed in his palm.

With the spear in hand, his entire demeanor suddenly changed.

A chilling killing intent surged towards the crowd like a tidal wave, causing them to gasp for breath.

Li Xin dragged his spear backwards and strode towards the ironclad formation. One step, two steps, three steps…

When it reached the seventh step, it suddenly accelerated.

The powerful arrow whizzed past him, piercing only afterimages.

He shot straight into the center of the shield wall like an arrow released from a bow.

The moment he reached the shield wall, he braced his spear heavily on the ground, using the force to leap into the air, over the shield wall, over the spearhead, over the heads of the shield bearers in the front row, and landed in the center of the crowd.

The spear drew a circle in the air.

The opening stance of the Bagua Zhan Shen Spear technique sweeps across the battlefield...

Where the gun tip swept, the air exploded, producing a muffled buzzing sound.

The shield bearers in the front row were all hit in the back.

The iron plates inside the leather armor cracked like paper, and seven or eight shield bearers screamed and fell forward at the same time.

The crisp sound of bones shattering mingled with screams, making one's teeth ache.

The front rank of the ironclad formation collapsed, and the crossbowmen in the rear frantically raised their crossbows and aimed again...

Li Xin had already rushed in through the collapsed gap.

The spear tip moved in rapid succession, as fast as lightning.

One after another, the crossbowmen fell to the ground. Some threw down their crossbows and tried to run away, but were struck in the back of the head by the butt of the spear. They were sent flying and crashed into a pillar in the corridor, causing the paint on the pillar to flake off.

The spearmen on the flanks were huddled together, their spear shafts too long to maneuver freely. Some tried to retreat but were blocked by those behind them, while others tried to advance but were tripped by their fallen comrades.

The impenetrable fortress of fifty men collapsed completely in the span of seven or eight breaths.

Li Xin stopped what he was doing, holding his spear horizontally in front of him. His gaze passed over the trembling, broken soldiers who could barely hold their swords, and landed on Wang Donghai.

"The formation is good, but the people are not."

The veins on Wang Donghai's hand, gripping the knife, bulged.

It wasn't out of anger, but out of fear.

The young man in the green robe broke through the ironclad formation in a very short time. When the spear flew through the crowd, he couldn't even see the trajectory of the spearhead.

He has lived for over fifty years, starting at the age of thirteen by following his father in salt transport, gradually building up this family business with his own hands and a knife.

He thought he had reached the pinnacle of martial arts and that the "True Qi Realm" mentioned by the Fish-Dragon Taoist was nothing but a legend.

Now he knew it wasn't a legend, but a nightmare.

He took a deep breath, feeling as if a ball of fire had been stuffed into his chest.

The Overturning Sea Skill is an internal martial art passed down through three generations of the Wang family. It uses qi to generate power and uses power to overcome skill.

With the infusion of internal energy, the muscles in his right arm visibly bulged, his sleeve was stretched taut, and a dark red glow appeared on his skin, making his entire arm look like an iron bar just pulled out of a furnace.

As this internal energy flowed into the nine-ringed broadsword, the copper rings on the blade trembled violently, emitting a buzzing thunderous sound.

The sea is churning with fury.

This strike was completely unpretentious.

He practiced his entire life, and his swordsmanship could be summed up in one word:

Shen.