From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables

Chapter 437: 203 Ultimate Kill (First Update)

Translator: 549690339

Yan Shu appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a red short outfit, standing just over 5’7”, with a square face, thick eyebrows, and big eyes that exuded a strong aura, enough to make anyone feel intimidated upon meeting his gaze.

He coldly said, “I want to challenge Xi Yu.”

The scene suddenly erupted into chaos.

What a thrill, challenging a master right from the start.

When everyone looked towards the main seat, they noticed that Xi Yu had disappeared without anyone noticing.

“Did Xi Yu run away?”

“Are you referring to yourself? You’re just a coward. Xi Yu would never be like that.”

“Then why hasn’t he shown up to face the challenge? He represents our Qinglong Association, and if he loses, it would be a huge embarrassment.”

Zhu Shaodan glared fiercely at the man who spoke, scaring him into silence.

Yan Shu looked around and said, “Xi Yu, I challenge you. If you don’t appear after I count to three, it will be considered cowardice in the face of battle. One…”.

As soon as his words left his mouth, a shadow descended from the sky, landing lightly on the arena.

Ming Jing hooked her lips, saying casually to Ran Tengxiao, “Mr. Ran was right, this is indeed very exciting.”

Zhao Qin leaned on the railing, her eyes gleaming, “That was so cool! Go, Xi Yu! Give that arrogant guy a good beating.”

Everyone was stunned by the graceful figure of the young man in black. His thin, solitary figure looked lofty and arrogant, the low brim of his hat adding a hint of mystery. Many people wondered what he would look like without the hat, but they could only imagine.

“Are you Xi Yu?” Yan Shu squinted and asked as he assessed the young man.

He looked so young, still a minor, with a frail stature that seemed like it couldn’t withstand a few punches.

For such a person to be regarded as a master, the Qinglong Association must have run out of talent.

“Enough talking, make your move,” the young man replied disdainfully.

“Arrogant brat, take this!” Yan Shu threw a few punches and kicks, accompanied by a “Yah-hey” shout, which somehow managed to look imposing.

“What kind of technique is this?” someone curiously asked.

Everyone looked at each other, only able to watch the commotion, not knowing the real techniques involved.

“The founder of Liehuo Hall, Yan Hong, hailed from the Shaolin Sect, which values short-range punches in the south and long-range kicks in the north. He combined the Shaolin Arhat short-range punches with qigong, creating the unique Passing Arm Fist. It combines the openness of long-range punches with the flexibility and subtleties of short-range punches. Compared to popular modern combat styles like Sanda and Taekwondo, the Passing Arm Fist is superior.” Ming Jing casually explained.

Ran Tengxiao squinted at her, “How do you know?”

Zhao Qin asked anxiously, “Will Xi Yu be in danger?”

Ming Jing played with her Buddhist beads, casting a glance at the arena below.

Yan Shu moved first, launching himself into the air and closing the distance in an instant. His punches were as fast as lightning, unleashing a torrent of attacks.

Everyone was thrilled, marveling at Yan Shu’s explosive power, and fearing for Xi Yu’s safety.

Zhao Qin rushed to the railing, gripping it in worry.

The young man in black stood unmoving like a mountain, unruffled despite the flurry of punches just before his face, showing no signs of panic, appearing somewhat aloof and beyond the ordinary.

As Yan Shu’s fist came within a hair’s breadth of the young man’s nose, he suddenly pivoted, and Yan Shu’s punch barely grazed his nose. With a subtle step, Xi Yu appeared behind Yan Shu before anyone could see clearly. Yan Shu was shocked, but it was too late as the young man grabbed his right shoulder. Yan Shu tried to exert his strength from below, but the young man used his shoulder as a pivot and nimbly leaped in front of him. Clutching Yan Shu’s right shoulder, he slid his hand down his arm, causing a series of cracking sounds followed by Yan Shu’s anguished groan, his face turning pale.

Xi Yu withdrew a step and resumed his nonchalant demeanor.

Ye Feng, who had been lazily leaning against a pillar, suddenly straightened up.

Ye Shuang’s eyes sparkled as she noticed Ye Feng’s reaction, chuckling, “I told you long ago not to underestimate Xi Yu. He defeated your senior brother, and now Yan Shu has learned his lesson.”

Yan Shu lost in just one move.

Everyone shook their heads. Yan Shu had seemed so formidable at first, but in the face of a true master, he was nothing but a show-off.

Yan Shu knelt on one knee, feeling his entire right arm numb and powerless. Glaring at the black-clothed young man standing still opposite him, Yan Shu was horrified. His Liehuo Hall’s Passing Arm Fist, augmented by qigong, should have been invincible. But there was a fatal weakness – the blind spot on his right shoulder, which no one should have known.

How could his opponent possibly know?

“Who are you exactly, and which sect do you hail from?” Yan Shu asked through gritted teeth.

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