Impromptu Performance

In the hospital, Jin Youxi had just witnessed Chen Feng make his move, and her petite mouth hung open in shock.

Having followed her master for so long, this was the first time she had seen him take action.

What stunned her the most was that the technique he used was identical to the opening stance of the first move of the Buddha's Palm, the very technique she had been learning.

Meanwhile, the security guard who had been punched so hard by Chen Feng earlier that he vomited blood was now quietly sipping goji berry tea in his security booth, watching the live stream on his phone.

When he saw Chen Feng teach that old woman a lesson, he felt an indescribable thrill.

Grabbing his phone, he transformed into a keyboard warrior, furiously spamming the chat:

"I knew it—this was all just a rumor!"

"You idiots were all fooled by that traitorous disciple!"

"This guy is clearly a master."

"I bet even an average martial artist wouldn’t stand a chance against him."

...

Other viewers in the live stream also noticed that the situation didn’t match the rumors.

"Wasn’t he supposed to have zero qi and blood?"

"How can someone with no qi and blood manifest a martial shadow?"

"What kind of martial arts is this? I’ve never heard of it before."

"Based on my years of experience, there’s a twist coming."

...

Chen Feng turned to Yang Honghui and asked,

"Weren’t you going to verify me? How do you plan to do it?"

Yang Honghui was momentarily caught off guard by the question.

Damn it!

This wasn’t part of the script.

Originally, the plan was to appease the online crowd.

But now, it looked like they’d have to switch to a redemption arc.

After a brief pause, he quickly regained his composure.

"Mr. Chen, please don’t misunderstand—I’ve always believed in you."

"If you’ve been wronged, the Martial Arts Association will absolutely clear your name."

With that, he immediately pulled out an exquisite metal eyeglass case from his pocket and retrieved a high-tech-looking monocle.

Seeing this, Chen Feng couldn’t help but marvel inwardly.

"As expected of the Martial Arts Association—even their qi and blood detection equipment is top-tier."

Ordinary qi and blood testing required bulky machines, usually found in major martial arts hospitals, with each test costing a thousand yuan.

But the smart detection monocle Yang Honghui wielded was also a specialized device for measuring qi and blood.

The only catch? A single monocle like this cost over eight million yuan—far beyond the means of most people.

Yang Honghui put on the monocle and looked at Chen Feng.

Within less than a second, numbers flickered across the lens before settling on one value:

100.

Yang Honghui was stunned.

Given the aura Chen Feng had displayed earlier, he had assumed the man was at least an advanced martial artist.

But it turned out he was just a martial disciple.

Still, even this was enough to prove that the Martial Arts Association hadn’t issued a license to a zero-qi-and-blood civilian to open a martial arts school.

Too bad all the prepared speeches were now useless.

He’d have to improvise carefully—especially since the association’s president was watching the live stream.

His future depended on today’s performance.

Just then, reporters in the crowd pressed for answers:

"President Yang, what’s the result?"

"Is it zero qi and blood? Are you too embarrassed to say it?"

"Just tell us already!"

...

Yang Honghui didn’t rush to respond.

Instead, he walked over to the notaries and handed them the monocle.

After each of them examined it and nodded in confirmation, he finally turned back to the cameras and audience.

"Mr. Chen’s qi and blood value is 100 points, placing him at the martial disciple level."

What?!

The first to react was Xiao Ruohan.

"How is that possible?"

"For the past two years, Chen Feng never once displayed any martial ability!"

"And he admitted himself that he had zero qi and blood!"

"Was he lying this whole time?!"

...

Viewers watching the stream also erupted in discussion.

"See? No way someone with zero qi and blood could run a martial arts school!"

"People will do anything for clout these days."

"So the zero-qi-and-blood rumor was fake all along!"

"That pretty female disciple was lying!"

...

After delivering the verdict, Yang Honghui smoothly transitioned into his newly improvised script.

"Rest assured, the Martial Arts Association would never issue a license to someone with zero qi and blood."

"Please don’t believe these baseless rumors meant to slander us."

As he spoke, his eyes flicked toward Xiao Ruohan.

The message was clear:

"You were the one who kept insisting he was a zero-qi-and-blood fraud."

Xiao Ruohan was at a loss for words.

She had been the one spreading the claim that Chen Feng had no qi and blood.

Now, the truth had slapped her in the face.

Her mother, however, immediately started shouting:

"So what if his qi and blood is 100?"

"That doesn’t prove anything!"

"My daughter’s qi and blood is 179—this Chen guy is nothing!"

Then, Xiao Ruohan’s father remembered what his daughter had said earlier—that Chen Feng had stolen her martial arts techniques.

He stepped forward, pointing at Chen Feng.

"He must have stolen my daughter’s techniques—that’s how he became a martial disciple!"

"With qi and blood this low, how could he possibly have taught a genius like her?"

"Besides, what kind of master has lower cultivation than their own disciple?"

"Ruohan, don’t worry. Dad will make sure justice is served."

Hearing her father’s words, Xiao Ruohan nodded silently.

She had panicked for a moment, but remembering that Chen Feng’s qi and blood was a full 79 points lower than hers, she quickly regained her composure.

As long as she stuck to her story—that Chen Feng had stolen her techniques—her reputation would remain intact.

The live stream’s chat quickly shifted again, this time turning against Chen Feng.

Meanwhile, Xiang Jingpeng, the master of the War God Martial Arts School, was also watching the broadcast.

His brow furrowed slightly.

"This Chen Feng isn’t what the intel suggested."

"If he has qi and blood and knows martial arts, this complicates things."

Xiang Jingpeng had assumed Chen Feng was truly a zero-qi-and-blood waste.

That would have made it easy to openly claim Xiao Ruohan’s palm technique.

But now, things were getting messy.

If Chen Feng taught the technique to others, ownership disputes would inevitably arise, tarnishing the War God School’s reputation.

Still, Chen Feng was just a lowly martial disciple.

Perhaps he could be crushed before he became a problem.

With that thought, Xiang Jingpeng pulled out his phone and sent a message to his prized disciple:

"On the grounds that Chen Feng stole your junior sister’s techniques, cripple his martial arts."

Sha Heming, who had been casually watching the drama unfold, felt his phone vibrate.

After reading the message, he replied with a quick "OK."

Then, turning to Xiao Ruohan, he said:

"Junior Sister, the War God School has a rule—those who steal our techniques must have their martial arts crippled."

"Since you’re now part of our school, you must abide by this rule."

"Go and strip that scum of his martial arts!"