Zhao Wuji breathed a sigh of relief, turned to look at the Dragon Lord and Snake Lady, and quickly cupped his hands: "Senior Dragon Lord, I am Zhao Wuji, I have long admired your name!"
Lord Long's face darkened, and he slammed his snake staff heavily on the ground: "Zhao Wuji, no need for formalities! You have repeatedly stolen the prey of my grandfather and grandson. Isn't that going too far?"
Meng Yiran immediately stepped forward, her snake staff pointing directly at Yang Chen, her pretty face filled with defiance: "I was careless last time! This time I want to have another match with you! If you win, this Human-Faced Demon Spider is yours; if you lose, the Soul Beast is mine!"
Oscar immediately jumped out from behind, winking and shouting, "That's not fair! Besides the soul beast, the loser has to kiss the winner!"
Yang Chen secretly gave Oscar a thumbs up in his heart, thinking to himself that he was indeed a good brother who had gone to great lengths to help him obtain a spirit ring.
The Dragon Lord's eyes darted around, and he immediately laughed loudly, "Good! It's settled then!"
Meng Yiran blushed instantly, stomped her feet, and said coquettishly, "Grandpa! How could you do this!"
Long Gong laughed heartily: "Young people always need some passion! Let's begin!"
Meng Yiran bit her lip and took out thirty-two gleaming throwing knives: "I have thirty-two throwing knives here. You and I will each take sixteen and throw them at the same time, hitting the leaves that my grandfather shook down from twenty meters away. Whoever hits more leaves and still has throwing knives left on the tree at the end wins!"
Yang Chen chuckled inwardly. Comparing his throwing knife skills to Yang Chen's, who possessed precise control over his martial spirit's qi, was like showing off his skills before an expert. He remained outwardly calm, accepting the sixteen throwing knives and holding them in his palm: "Come on."
Standing under a large tree twenty meters away, Long Gong waved his arm and violently shook the trunk, causing countless emerald green leaves to flutter down like raindrops.
"Make your move!"
With a loud shout from Long Gong, Meng Yiran flicked her wrist, sending sixteen throwing knives flying through the air. Their accuracy far surpassed that of other Soul Masters of the same age. Fallen leaves were pierced by the knives, and with a few clanging sounds, several knives were firmly embedded in the tree trunks.
Yang Chen, however, remained calm and composed. With a slight flick of his wrist, his martial spirit energy subtly attached itself to each throwing knife. The sixteen cold lights seemed to come alive, nimbly weaving through the air, locking onto the trajectory of every falling leaf.
Amidst the swirling leaves, each throwing knife carried several leaves along with it; the leaves he aimed at were precisely pierced, and the knives' momentum remained undiminished.
After the last fallen leaf was exhausted, the remaining throwing knives were as if guided by invisible threads, and were neatly and orderly nailed to the tree trunk. The force was controlled to the extreme, and not one landed prematurely, nor did any miss the target.
The entire room fell silent.
Dragon Lord's eyes widened, and he exclaimed repeatedly, "Incredible skill! Truly incredible skill!"
Meng Yiran accepted her defeat wholeheartedly. Looking at the neat array of flying knives on the tree, her eyes were filled with unbelievable admiration and curiosity.
She calmed herself down, looked up at Yang Chen, and said in a soft, girlish voice, "How did you do that? I tried my best to control the trajectory, but I'm still so far behind you."
Seeing that she was honest and sincere, and had no objections whatsoever, Yang Chen did not hold back either. He slowly took down a throwing knife and lightly touched the blade with his fingertips.
"The way of throwing knives lies not in strength, but in control; not in speed, but in accuracy."
His voice was steady, and his gaze was serious. "When you made your move just now, you relied entirely on your wrist strength and eyesight to lock onto the target. Once the throwing knife left your hand, it was difficult to control it again. But my throwing knife has been under my control from beginning to end."
As soon as he finished speaking, Yang Chen slightly raised his wrist, and a faint golden martial spirit aura quietly wrapped around the blade, so subtle that it was almost imperceptible.
"I imbue each throwing knife with my martial spirit energy, as if attaching an invisible thread. The speed, angle, and trajectory of the falling leaves will be infinitely slowed down in my eyes, and the energy can be used to fine-tune the direction, force, and landing point of the throwing knife at any time."
With a casual flick of his wrist, the throwing knife flew out lightly, nimbly spun once in the air, and landed steadily back in his palm.
Meng Yiran stared in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape, utterly shocked.
"Before you throw it, calm your mind and evenly channel your soul power into the blade. Avoid pouring it out. You must integrate your soul power with the throwing knife, rather than simply throwing it."
Hitting a fallen leaf is easy; the difficulty lies in keeping the plant firmly embedded in the tree even after the force has been exhausted. This requires extreme control over the release and control of one's soul power.
Yang Chen walked to Meng Yiran's side, gently grasped her right hand holding the throwing knife, and adjusted the angle of her wrist and the posture of her grip.
The moment their fingertips touched, Meng Yiran trembled all over, her cheeks flushed instantly, her heart pounded like a drum, and even her breathing became erratic.
"Relax your wrist, don't tense it too much... Yes, use your soul power to support the throwing knife, not brute force to throw it."
Yang Chen's breath was close to her ear, gentle and clear. Meng Yiran's heart fluttered, and she could only subconsciously follow his guidance to adjust.
He took another throwing knife and placed it on her fingertip: "Try again, not for speed, just feel the connection between your soul power and the throwing knife."
Meng Yiran took a deep breath and, as instructed, slowly channeled a wisp of soul power into the blade, imagining the invisible thread.
With a slight flick of the wrist, the throwing knife flew out smoothly, not particularly fast, but precisely piercing through a fallen leaf.
"I did it!"
Meng Yiran looked up in surprise, met Yang Chen's smiling eyes, and immediately blushed and lowered her head.
Yang Chen smiled slightly: "With more practice, you will be able to do it at will. In the art of throwing knives, the mind and soul power must be united; a steady mind makes for a steady knife."
Meng Yiran nodded vigorously, her heart pounding as she looked at Yang Chen, who was tall and handsome.
She hesitated for a moment, then finally mustered her courage, tiptoed, and quickly planted a soft, warm kiss on his cheek. She then ran away like a startled rabbit, her ears burning red.
Yang Chen blushed slightly and didn't know what to say for a moment.
The Dragon King and the Snake Queen exchanged a knowing smile, their eyes full of amusement.
At this moment, I said, "Senior, you can take this Human-Faced Demon Spider. Tang San is currently unconscious and seriously injured, and he is unable to absorb a spirit ring at all. Keeping it is a waste."
Meng Yiran blushed as she looked at Yang Chen, her eyes filled with his image.
Upon seeing this, Lord Long nodded and expressed his gratitude.
The Dragon Lord laughed loudly: "Since that's the case, I'll shamelessly accept it!" After saying that, he had someone pick up the Human-Faced Demon Spider, and then he and the Snake Woman and Meng Yiran drifted away.
After a moment, Tang San slowly opened his eyes, feeling a piercing pain in his lower body. His face was pale, and he weakly said, "What... what happened to me? Why does it hurt so much down there..."
Yang Chen said in a deep voice, "Little Sanzi, you were just ambushed by the Human-Faced Demon Spider. If I hadn't intervened in time, you would be dead. Its forelimb pierced your lower body groin."
Tang San was startled and instinctively reached out to touch it. After seeing the situation, he turned ashen-faced and his whole body went cold. He murmured in despair, "This... this kind of injury is impossible to heal without immortal herbs... Does this mean I'm... ruined for the rest of my life?"
"No--!"
He let out a sudden roar, his eyes instantly turning red, and tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as he completely broke down.
Yang Chen quickly stepped forward to comfort him: "Xiao Sanzi, it's just one injury. Even if you lose your third leg, you still have two other legs. It's okay, there will definitely be a way."
Dai Mubai, Ning Rongrong, Oscar, and others quickly gathered around, offering quiet words of comfort. For a moment, only Tang San's suppressed sobs and the worried whispers of the others filled the forest.
End of this chapter ___