Chapter 103: Reverse Scale (Second Update)

They kissed with fierce intensity, caressing each other without restraint. In that moment, Ye Feng felt a rare sense of fulfillment, throwing himself into the tongue-kiss as if the world had fallen away, his mind clear of all noise.

It felt like an age had passed when they finally broke apart, both breathing hard.

Sometimes, Ye Feng was inexplicably gripped by the fear that Huan Qingwu might vanish. People would laugh at him for madness, and even he did not know where such fear came from.

If he searched for its root, it was probably those visions in the Immortal Garden: you take up your sword and cut down enemies in all directions, while I sit with my qin by your side, sharing every rise and fall with you.
That scene was still etched vividly before his eyes, impossible to erase. Ye Feng did not believe in fate, but that image was so real, he could not dismiss it.

Thinking of that, he held Huan Qingwu tighter. “I won’t let you leave me. Not unless I die.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Why would I ever leave you?” Huan Qingwu said softly, wiping the tears and crusted tears from the corner of his eyes with her fingertips.

In truth, she too had a faint premonition, though she had never really faced it.

Her life was nothing like Ye Feng’s. For fifteen years, every day had been almost identical—no ripples, no great turns. Even when her clan was ordered to oppose the Holy Land, she never believed her own safety was in danger.

“Get up quickly. Everyone is waiting for you!” Huan Qingwu gave Ye Feng a brief kiss, then slipped out of the bed.

In a few quick movements he dressed, pulled Huan Qingwu up, and they flew toward the martial arena.

“Hey— you still haven’t washed your face!”

“Shameless creature!” he retorted.

A growing impatience had already stirred him; that anxiety only sharpened his stubborn will. “Bring whatever trouble there is. Let it come straight to me. As long as I’m still alive, nothing changes!”

He shouted to the sky and dragged Huan Qingwu through the whole Ye Estate.

At a distance, the servants stood with their mouths open, wondering what provocation had struck the young master so.

By the time the two reached the arena, it was already packed to the brim. It was difficult to force oneself in. Only in the inner ring did dozens of members of the Heavenly King stand watch and keep order.

With no other way, Ye Feng hoisted Huan Qingwu across his waist and sprang into the air.

In the vast central training court, Jia Luo and his men faced a dozen of Suo Wu’s side in two opposing lines.

Twenty-odd people stared each other down in silence, as if each tried to kill the other with their gaze.

Noticing Ye Feng’s startled look, Huan Qingwu tugged him lightly. “Move, let’s go. Everyone’s watching.”

He turned, then saw to his annoyance that thousands below were glaring at him with obvious disapproval.

Turning again, he saw Xiao Chong, Sha Mo, and the others had ended their staredown and were now glaring straight at him.

“Was it really necessary? Was it just that you woke up a little too late?”

Snubmindedly dropping down to the stage floor, Ye Feng trudged forward before them, looking worn and sheepish.

“Hm, my dear Alliance Lord, you still remember you have matters today?” Xiao Chong glanced at him with a sour expression, tauntingly mocking him in a crooked tone.

Before Ye Feng could even offer a weak smile, Kongkong suddenly noticed the blood on his lips and said in exaggerated shock, “Your lips are bleeding. Who bit you?”

“Uh—this, uh, well, earlier this morning, when I was teasing the parrot, it pecked me by accident.”

“Aah…” In the next moment, a smooth, tender hand brushed his waist and gave him a hard little kiss.

When he turned back, Huan Qingwu was looking at him with a face of cold frost.

“Oh, no—no—that was your lovely, adorable Huan Qingwu who bit me! Ah, why are you pinching me again?”

Seeing this eccentric pair, the onlookers chuckled, and much of the earlier resentment dissolved at once.

With Ye Feng’s arrival, the crowd below reached its peak of excitement. The sordid business between Ye Feng and Suo Wu had already spread through the crowd that day, and each rumor grew more lurid.

Some said the young master’s neck had turned red with rage.
Some said his wife had been taken by force, and of course he was furious.

In any case, to everyone present, Ye Feng now looked like a complete tragic figure.

Only those who truly understood the matter, such as the Grand Preceptor of the Bilister Empire, were more troubled. When he heard that Suo Wu would fight Ye Feng, that old man had wept in helpless frustration.

The news that the Bilister Empire had allied with the Holy Land had reached Great Emperor Tanghen. Now he was picking quarrels with our party at every turn, trying to keep them all here. And yet Suo Wu, at such a critical moment, managed to provoke this trouble. This truly looked like a case for calamity.

He had truly wished to crack Suo Wu’s skull open and see what kind of thoughts lived in that head.

But he could not. Merely because Suo Wu is prized by the Holy Land, the old man could not move a finger against him. Not to mention that Sora himself protected Suo Wu, and that was far more terrifying.

After exchanging formalities with everyone, Ye Feng’s eyes finally fixed on Suo Wu across the ring. Without a word, the two leapt at once.

The atmosphere grew suddenly oppressive the moment they entered; both sides pressed forward, and in this life-or-death clash, there was no room for pretense.

Ye Feng drew his long saber at once, like a dragon from the abyss waiting for the moment to surge.

The battle began.

In only an instant, his fighting spirit fully erupted; when Suo Wu’s reverse scale was touched, he had already been sentenced to death.

Even though he knew nothing of Suo Wu at all, he felt no fear. His goal was simple: to eliminate the opponent.

That was the law of a dragon’s reverse scale—touch it, and death came.

In a flash, golden spiritual force rose and crashed down, a decisive force that would rush forward against anyone, whoever they were.

Suo Wu’s face stayed as calm as still water. He was not shaken by his opponent’s momentum and showed no sign of making the first attack.

The long saber moved. Though he did not draw on the power of the Dragon-Serpent Demon King, by sheer strength alone, Ye Feng feared no cultivator below mid-grade Spirit King.

Though his aura barely reached that level, the force in the very first cut told Suo Wu he had stepped onto steel itself, and the price would be his life.

Retreat. A violent retreat. That was Suo Wu’s only choice.

But Ye Feng did not let it happen. His footwork—“Jiaolong Glide”—cut out in a blur, pressing in relentlessly.

He kept his speed as perfect suppression: neither faster nor slower, only steady, maintaining his own rhythm.

Ye Feng knew his opponent was formidable. If a man had not real talent, who would come leaping from distant Bilister Empire just to be punished like this?

No matter how capable Suo Wu was, today Ye Feng would break him completely.

With his mind utterly clear, the moment he moved his long saber again, Ye Feng cast aside all thought. He would fight without regret. Whatever the result, he would make everyone understand: no one was allowed to touch the one Ye Feng had sworn to protect.