eanwhile, Fan Xian had already withdrawn his right hand and, in a flash, flicked Ye Ling’er’s maimen!
Not even Gong Dian could avoid this trick when caught off guard, so there was no way Ye Ling’er could. She grunted lightly and opened her fist right next to Fan Xian’s cheek. But Fan Xian had no time to be pleased. He squinted and took three steps back in an odd manner. He then clapped in the air three times.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Three claps rang out next to him!
As it turned out, as soon as she opened her hand, Ye Ling’er spread her fingers like the branches of a peach tree and aimed them at Fan Xian’s temples. Fan Xian dodged the initial attack with pure instinct, blocking the three blasts of qi with his hands.
"Ye style sanshou!" The crowd gasped. They knew Grandmaster Ye Liuyun was her granduncle, but they didn’t know she had inherited any skills from him.
Before the gasps died down, Fan Xian closed in with a perfectly calm expression and landed a solid punch into Ye Ling’er’s still-opened hand.
There was a dull thud. Peach branches or not, Ye Ling’er’s sanshou had been breached by Fan Xian’s overpowering zhenqi! She drifted over a meter backwards, holding her wrist in pain while staring at Fan Xian in shock. She could never have imagined his zhenqi would be so powerful. After contact, it traveled up her own meridians to attack her. The pain made her release her sanshou.
"You are no match for me." Fan Xian provoked her.
Ye Ling’er clenched her teeth and charged at him again, even fiercer than before. She chopped down with her hand, her fingers lined up into a blade which pierced the wind. As a young woman, her zhenqi was already inferior to an adult man, which was why Ye Liuyun taught her to use a slashing motion when fighting opponents with stronger zhenqi.
Fan Xian was secretly startled, but managed to make use of panicked footwork developed on the Danzhou cliffs to escape Ye Ling’er’s strikes by the skin of his teeth.
As the wind pressure from Ye Ling’er’s strikes picked up, the spectators felt a chill.
Countless blades of qi danced around Fan Xian, who vaguely sensed danger. With a restrained grunt, he filled his entire body with zhenqi and stomped his foot down hard, forcibly stopping himself from retreating any further. He then channeled strength into his waist and threw himself forward, as if he had been punched from behind. He had changed from a retreating posture to an advancing one. It was completely unexpected!
The winds disappeared, and so did Fan Xian.
The next moment made everyone drop their jaws.
Fan Xian was right up between Ye Linger’s arms, his hands firmly grasping her armpits. Ye Linger’s terrifying hands stopped just short above Fan Xian’s shoulders—more accurately, right before her hands came down, Fan Xian struck her in a weak spot by practically hugging her.
What Fan Xian had done might have looked improper, but among the wildly dancing blades of qi, this was the only way to get close enough to her. Fan Xian’s eyesight and speed had reached such terrifying levels; Wu Zhu had taught him well.
Having first been charged by Fan Xian, who looked like a vengeful spirit, and then having been embraced by him, Ye Ling’er was greatly shaken. But she did not panic. She pushed down with both arms, raising herself into the air!
Without warning, she kicked down towards Fan Xian’s tibia. If it connected, Fan Xian would be sure to fall on top of her from the pain, but she didn’t care that much at the moment.
Right before the kick landed, Fan Xian let go, and she fell.
Such was how the human body moves. If you chop down with your hands while kicking up at the same time, it would be extremely unpleasant. Fan Xian was aiming for this moment and stabbed out with his own punch!
Other than the incident on Niulan Street, this was the third punch he had thrown since arriving in the capital. Each one prior had broken someone’s nose; today was no exception.
There was a light crack and a splash of blood; the way it trailed in the air somehow gave off a romantic feeling.
Ye Ling’er immediately knelt down and clutched her nose. There was blood between her fingers. After a moment, she began wailing. Fan Xian was uneasy; she wanted a fight, he obliged, and now she cries?
The maidservants of Ye manor rushed forward, but didn’t get in the way. It looked like this young miss often challenged people to duels. Fan Xian did not feel guilty in the slightest—just because he disliked hitting women didn’t mean he wanted to get hit by one. When his mother first came to the capital, she had beaten Ye Ling’er’s father—Sir Ye Zhong, the current Commander of Defense—into a sorry pulp. Uncle Wu Zhu had fought a grand battle against Ye Liuyun under the city walls, forcing the grandmaster to shut himself in for many months, renouncing the sword for sanshou.
Fan Xian punching Ye Ling’er was him carrying on this glorious tradition, in a way.