Chapter Thirty-Eight: Trash Is Still Trash

A cold glint flashed across Lin Chen's eyes. His figure moved like a black gale, vanishing in an instant, and he swept outward like a phantom.

With the speed of a thunderbolt, he violently shoved Xiao Yunyao into a safe corner.

At the same time, nimble as a withered leaf dancing in a violent gale, he managed a hair-breadth escape from Ye Ling'er's vicious and fierce whip, which struck out like the tongue of a venomous snake.

"Bang, bang, bang!" The whip, carrying an overwhelming and ferocious force, lashed fiercely against the sturdy wooden table.

In an instant, wood chips flew everywhere like a blizzard. Under the ravages of this tyrannical power, the table instantly disintegrated, scattering into a chaotic and desolate mess.

The steaming dishes on the table were also swept away as if by a tempest, flung in all directions.

The sounds of shattering porcelain intertwined, producing a continuous ringing that echoed persistently and endlessly through the small courtyard.

Witnessing how effortlessly Lin Chen had avoided her sure-fire, fierce attack, Ye Ling'er was slightly startled, a trace of astonishment quickly flashing through the depths of her eyes.

However, how could her arrogant and conceited nature change so easily?

After a brief moment of surprise, she quickly regained her composure and thought to herself: This good-for-nothing is merely a despicable villain who stole the fortune and merit of our Junior Disciple. Even if he has acquired some minor cultivation now, how formidable could he possibly be? It was nothing more than a blind cat hitting a dead mouse—pure luck.

With this thought, the corners of her lips curved upward into a mocking and disdainful sneer.

She let out a cold snort from her nostrils, and then shouted aloud, "Hmph! You mere piece of trash, even with the Junior Disciple's cultivation, you are simply wasting heavenly treasures, utterly incapable of unleashing even a fraction of its true might. Today, I shall act on behalf of our Master to properly discipline you, this ungrateful and treacherous wretch, so you may learn that the rules of our sect are not to be trampled upon at the whim of garbage like you!"

"Senior Sister, why bother soiling your own hands with such an ant-like waste? Leave it to Junior Sister instead. I will make this ignorant fool thoroughly experience the consequences of harming a fellow disciple! By then, he will surely regret his actions with every fiber of his being!" Wen Yun's face was plastered with the smug expression of one who had already claimed victory.

She wore a look of absolute confidence, as if she could already picture Lin Chen begging for mercy in agony beneath her feet.

She eagerly requested to take the fight, burning to showcase her prowess before her Senior Sister and prove her own strength.

"Very well. Just don't beat him to death. A few broken limbs will be of no consequence. Leave him with a breath left in him so we can give Master an account." Ye Ling'er's eyes gleamed with a playful light.

She slowly retracted her long whip, her lotus steps shifting as she retreated to the side. Crossing her arms, she prepared with rapt interest to enjoy the good show about to unfold.

Hearing this, Wen Yun nodded in confident agreement. "Senior Sister, rest assured, and watch how I make him wish he were dead yet unable to die. I will make certain he learns the price of opposing our sect!"

Lin Chen stood where he was, the corners of his mouth curling upward into a cold smile.

He mused inwardly, having originally expected these two to shamelessly join forces and launch a joint assault against him.

Unexpectedly! They were so blindly confident and utterly foolish.

Yet it made sense; these two had always looked down upon everyone from their lofty perch, regarding him all along as an ant they could slaughter at will.

Meanwhile, Wen Yun fiercely waved her arm, her long sword conjuring dazzling and tyrannical sword shadows in the air.

Lunging straight for Lin Chen's face, the flurry of flying swords instantly threw him into a flurry, forcing him to retreat step by step as he managed barely enough parries.

Wielding nothing more than a seemingly ordinary and unremarkable bamboo stick, Lin Chen maintained an agile posture, yet he could hardly conceal his disheveled state.

His robes were tattered, fluttering gently in the wind like a broken banner.

His disheveled hair fell across both sides of his cheeks, a few strands dampened by sweat and plastered against his resolute face, and he had clearly sustained considerable injuries.

In stark contrast, Wen Yun was clad in a spotless, pitch-black robe that gleam brightly, fluttering and snapping in the wind, accentuating her arrogance and domineering aura.

Clutched tightly in her hand was a razor-sharp, chilling long sword, the cold light upon its blade resembling solidified icicles, radiating a freezing sword qi.

A confident, smug expression of absolute victory hung upon her face, and powerful fluctuations of cultivation continuously emanated from her body, causing the surrounding air to tremble as though forming an invisible domain that oppressed everything around her.

"Hmph, Lin Chen, there is no escape for you today!" Wen Yun emitted a cold snort from her nose, piercing the brief silence like the cry of a night owl.

In an instant, her figure flickered like a black lightning bolt, vanishing from where she stood before swiftly closing in on Lin Chen like a phantom.

At the same time, the long sword in her hand burst into dazzling radiance, transforming into a blinding, silver ribbon of light.

Carrying a fierce sword qi capable of tearing through the air, she thrust with lightning speed straight for the vital point of Lin Chen's throat.

As the sword struck, the surrounding air seemed torn apart by the tyrannical force, emitting a sharp, hissing sound akin to the whisper of the Grim Reaper, chilling one to the bone.

Lin Chen's eyes instantly turned grave and solemn, not daring to slacken in the slightest.

His gaze locked onto the lightning-fast oncoming sword, and he sidestepped with the utmost velocity, kicking up a fierce gust of wind that whipped his tattered garments.

In a flash, the bamboo stick in his hand swept horizontally, accurately and flawlessly blocking Wen Yun's sure-to-be-fatal blow.

A deafening "Clang!" rang out like a giant bell tolling, echoing through the entire courtyard. Metal and bamboo collided violently, erupting into a dazzling cascade of sparks.

The immense impact traveled along the bamboo stick, numbing Lin Chen's arm and causing sharp, piercing pain in the web of his thumb as if ten thousand steel needles had pierced him at once. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down his forehead and dripped onto the ground.

Clenching his teeth and enduring the excruciating pain, his feet planted themselves firmly into the earth as if rooted deep underground. His posture remained straight as a pine, without the slightest sign of retreating even half a step, while his eyes revealed an unwavering determination and an indomitable will.

Seeing her attack so easily deflected by Lin Chen, Wen Yun's eyes flashed with a look of humiliated anger.

Snorting coldly, she gave her wrist a fierce shake, and the long sword instantly carved an abstruse arc through the air, undulating and shifting unpredictably like a spirit snake.

Without a moment's hesitation, she thrust out multiple consecutive sword strikes, each one as swift as a gale and fierce as lightning, aiming directly for Lin Chen's vital points.

Every thrust carried a roaring wind, reminiscent of a howling bellow from hell, as though determined to instantly consign Lin Chen to death.