“Next, let us welcome Qingzhou City’s number one genius of the past five hundred years, and also the Young City Lord… Han Feng!”

The steward’s voice rang out, clear and booming.

The spectator stands immediately erupted with earth-shaking cheers and applause.

Under the adoring gaze of thousands, Han Feng stepped onto the stairs of the arena. Dressed in luxurious white robes, he moved with an elegant, breezy demeanor. He basked in the cheers washing over him from all directions, his handsome face beaming with unbridled pride.

Han Lie’s gaze fell upon him from across the stage.

Han Feng, draped in glory and favor, was truly in high spirits.

When Han Lie first crossed over to this world, he had once fantasized that one day he would be the one standing in such a scene. But cruel reality had dealt him a heavy blow.

Not only was he not some genius holding the protagonist’s script, he barely qualified as a cultivator. Because… he possessed only half a spiritual vein!

Until two years ago, his entire life had been a running joke.

Looking at Han Feng now… putting everything else aside, just the name ‘Han Feng’ itself was enough to show how much hope Han Zhentian and Li Susu had placed in this son.

Han Lie smiled, a sense of dark relief washing over him.

It seemed he wasn’t holding the protagonist’s script, but the villain’s script!

According to the tropes of fantasy novels, he was the villain destined to deliver a crushing blow to the high-spirited protagonist during the tournament. Afterwards, the hero would reflect on his pain, bide his time, and build strength. Then one day, he would return triumphantly to defeat the villain who once humiliated him.

It was a classic setup. And Han Lie intended to enjoy every second of it.

After a long while, the cheers finally died down.

Han Feng spoke first, his tone dripping with condescension.

“This Daoist from the Heavenly Void Sect, it surprises me that you’ve made it this far with your mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation.”

“But I guess you must be hiding your true cultivation level, right?”

“Heh, it doesn’t matter. In front of a Golden Core cultivator, whether you’re at the late Foundation Establishment or the Perfection stage, it is all the same.”

Han Feng waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s start quickly. This farce should end; I still need to hurry back to cultivate.”

Han Lie gave an indescribable smile.

“Are these the words of someone who has never suffered a single setback? Truly not much different from what This Senior expected.”

Then, Han Lie raised his gaze.

He looked past his opponent, directly toward Li Susu on the viewing platform. His mother.

“Hmm…?”

Noticing the elderly Daoist’s gaze fixed upon her, Li Susu made a sound of surprise.

Her eyes met Han Lie’s across the distance.

Staring intently at that aged face, Li Susu’s heart suddenly trembled violently!

Although the face was old and weathered, she could vaguely make out contours that belonged to Han Lie from his childhood. The shape of the eyes, the set of the jaw…

Then, Han Lie cast her a faint, mocking smile.

Li Susu’s scalp tingled as if it were about to explode. She opened her mouth wide, wanting to say something, but the words died in her throat.

“The match begins!”

At that moment, the steward gave the order. The final match of the martial competition officially commenced.

Han Feng did not hesitate.

He reached out with a practiced gesture, and a sharp, five-foot-long spirit sword instantly appeared in his grasp.

“Old man, does this young master need to go easy on you?” Han Feng mocked.

“This Senior thinks you should consider how not to lose too disgracefully later.”

“Bluffing!”

Boom!

The bluestone slab under Han Feng’s feet shattered. His figure instantly vanished from sight, propelled by explosive speed.

Han Lie remained standing with his hands behind his back. He merely shifted his feet slightly to the left.

A piercing gust of wind brushed past him, missing by a hair’s breadth.

“What?”

Missing his first strike, Han Feng exclaimed in surprise. He quickly adjusted his posture, twisted in mid-air, and launched another attack.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

A series of tricky and fierce sword strikes enveloped Han Lie.

Yet, under the watchful eyes of countless spectators, Han Lie remained calm and composed. With minimal movements—a tilt of the head, a step to the side—he completely avoided all of Han Feng’s attacks. It was as if he were strolling through a garden rather than fighting a duel.

“What’s going on?!”

Seeing this scene, Han Zhentian couldn’t sit still on the viewing platform.

This martial competition was held solely to gild Han Feng’s reputation. If Han Feng lost, where would he put his old face?

In the stands, the gamblers clutching their betting slips were struck speechless. They held their breath, watching the arena with extreme tension. Cold sweat quietly soaked their foreheads and backs.

Conversely, the very few who didn’t believe in conventional wisdom and had placed a bet on the underdog were beaming with excitement.

“You…!”

Han Feng suddenly stopped attacking. His previously high-spirited face gradually turned gloomy and grave.

After that round of probing attacks, he was certain of one thing: this old man’s cultivation was definitely not weaker than his!

“Playing the pig to eat the tiger!”

Han Feng quickly adjusted his mindset and snorted coldly. “Reveal your true cultivation level!”

Han Lie smiled.

“Since it’s my younger brother’s request, as an older brother, I naturally must satisfy you.”

Boom!

Han Lie ceased suppressing his aura.

A terrifying pressure erupted from his body—the undeniable power of the mid-Golden Core Stage!

When the aura swept across the arena, the countless gamblers in the stands instantly turned ashen-faced.

“Mid-Golden Core?! Impossible!”

“How can this old Daoist be at the mid-Golden Core Stage?!”

“Wasn’t he mid-Foundation Establishment? What is going on?!”

“This old scoundrel hid his true cultivation! It shouldn’t count, right? I’ll go demand a refund later!”

“Refund! Refund, damn it!”

The spectator stands instantly descended into chaos. Facing a mid-Golden Core opponent with only early Golden Core strength—they couldn’t imagine how Han Feng could possibly win. Their money was gone.

“I knew it.”

In the front row, Xiao Yuruo’s vermilion lips curved slightly.

From watching the elimination matches days ago, she had already discerned that Han Lie was hiding his strength. Now it seemed her guess was correct. What she hadn’t expected was that he was actually at the mid-Golden Core Stage.

On the viewing platform.

Han Zhentian abruptly stood up, knocking over his tea table.

His gaze was fixed intently on Han Lie in the arena.

He wasn’t just shocked by the cultivation level. What made his blood run cold was what the Daoist had just said to Han Feng.

Since it’s my younger brother’s request, as an older brother…

“Heavenly Void Sect… could you be…?!”

Han Lie’s figure reflected in Han Zhentian’s violently trembling pupils. He could hardly believe his ears or his eyes.

“Son, is it really you?!”

Li Susu’s eyes had unknowingly reddened, tears pooling at the corners.

She had never imagined that her most unfortunate son—the one they had discarded—would reappear before her today in such a manner.