Liu Ping watched the clashing and striking of weapons nearby, but Ye Tian was still hopping around vigorously, showing no signs of dying at all.
"Damn it, what are they all doing!" Liu Ping cursed under his breath, his foot nudging forward an inch, but ultimately retreating without stepping forward. Tang Kaitai glanced at him inadvertently, noting his small movements and silently criticizing Liu Ping as someone who appeared strong but was actually weak and useless.
Blades and swords have no eyes. Ye Tian was no immortal; his flesh and blood were mortal, and underneath his skin flowed red blood. Suffering several cuts, his wounds grew wider due to his movements and his blood began to flow faster. Facing an onslaught of adversaries who, owing to their numbers, charged recklessly head-on, Ye Tian fought for his life, abandoning his initial conservative tactics. Disregarding the worries of facing legal consequences for killing, he commenced a rampage.
Once Ye Tian unleashed his full potential, his fearless nature was fully awakened. He wielded his steel blade, causing more than a dozen foes to cry out for their parents in terror. Eventually, the blade was dulled and notched, but Ye Tian still managed to use the blunted weapon to incapacitate several opponents on the ground.
Liu Ping and his two companions watched the scene, their initial excitement and thrill vanishing completely, knowing that Ye Tian had skilled fighters at his side—but who could have known that Ye Tian himself was also a formidable and fearless fighter?
Suddenly, a blinding ray of light shot up from the road at the base of the mountain, causing everyone to squint.
Through the gaps between his fingers, Liu Ping let a smug smile cross his lips, "Finally, Ye Tian’s little girlfriend has arrived!"
Zhen Yulin and Tang Kaitai were perplexed at first and then overjoyed. According to Liu Ping, Ye Tian’s caring for this woman went beyond a normal relationship. With her in their grasp, Ye Tian will have no choice but to submit. If they played their cards right, they might even get his shares from Zheng Xinru back. A full hundred percent ownership of the company wasn’t out of the question. Thinking of this, they looked at the continuously battling Ye Tian and considered him at the end of his tether. However, wishes are beautiful, but reality is often cruel. True, that car belonged to Liu Ping, but it had plowed straight into the men blocking the road. Alongside the sound of screeching brakes was the heavy impact noise—the "thump" of bodies being flung into the air.
A bloodied person was hurled out, landing at Liu Ping’s feet. The three stood rooted to the spot, wondering who could grab a person and fling them over ten meters away.
Looking at the car, a silhouette approached. The figure was backlit by the headlights, rendering his face invisible, but his outline was discernable. Beside the silhouette, something black, soft, and stick-like protruded from his side.
Ye Tian turned his head and glanced at the figure, and with a sigh, thought: You’ve finally arrived.
The "whisking" sound arose as Li Jing’s Soft Sword moved with his body, creating an imposing presence greater than any of the broad blades forged from hard steel.
Ye Tian knew, but the opponents did not.
The Soft Sword is not something that just anyone can wield. Compared to the rigidness of steel or iron, the materials for the Soft Sword are not only special but also demand exceptional skill from the wielder. First and foremost, one must endure hardship, not the kind of suffering from the blazing sun or shivering cold, but the pain of having flesh sliced and skin peeled by the thin blade. Furthermore, mastering the Soft Sword requires talent—namely insight. The average person cannot grasp the intricacies of the Soft Sword. Even if one practiced it casually, to truly excel and bring out the essence of the art requires exceptional perception.
Back in the day, to master the Soft Sword, Li Jing bore countless painful cuts across his body; a rough estimate summed up to about a kilo or two. Moreover, diligent and unwavering practice was imperative. The young Li Jing would resume training even before his wounds healed, cutting open skin barely formed, both flesh and skin together, an excruciating pain. But precisely because of this, under Old Mr. Li’s personal guidance and after a decade of dedication, the most distinguished descendant of the Li family in a century achieved mastery—a feat shrouded amidst the decline of the Li family.
But today, this brilliance was finally to be revealed to the world. Ye Tian felt that allowing these commoners to witness the Sword God in action was an act of divine grace.
Li Jing moved swiftly, and Ye Tian instinctively distanced himself from the group. Since Li Jing did not arrive in Zheng Xinru’s BMW X5, it meant that Li Ruoshui’s safety had been secured. Otherwise, Li Jing would not have had the leisure to come here and slay.
Probably disoriented by the recent glare, everyone had yet to recover and comprehend this new arrival wielding what appeared to be a wooden stick. However, as they witnessed limbs soaring into the sky, they realized this newcomer was even more fearless.
Li Jing’s Soft Sword danced wildly within the crowd, its supple movements akin to the Running Snake in water, accompanied by the whisking sound of tearing through the air, echoing with the desolate wails of his targets. Along with the wails came severed hands and feet—all cuts were on the limbs, not a single one on the neck; he only dealt with amputating arms and legs. Li Jing’s swordsmanship, mingling violence with exquisite grace, exhibited a soft and gentle form tumbling through the air. Narrowly dodging blades coming from all directions, the thin margin between them was the difference between life and severe maiming. Amidst the danger was a thrilling appeal to the most sensitive of human senses—"Art!"
When Li Jing finally landed, the Soft Sword ceased its whining through the air, resting alongside its master as if they were naturally one, complementing each other.
On the ground, limbs lay scattered, and the most harrowing were the pleas for help coming from those fallen, their agonizing cries pulling at the heartstrings.
"Useless! Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"
Li Jing, holding his blood-dripping Soft Sword, walked up to Liu Ping. He glanced back at Ye Tian and then stepped aside.
Ye Tian was genuinely surprised by this gesture. How could such a skilled individual yield a spot to him? But seeing Li Jing stand with the Soft Sword to one side, it was clear the position was indeed intended for him.