Chapter 2536 — Malfunctioning Again

"Broken legs? Then I'll give you a taste of what broken legs feel like!" Zhao Qibing drove his fist straight into Zhong Yongliang's face with a thunderous bang, and blood sprayed from Zhong Yongliang's nose! The sight only fired Zhao Qibing up further. Ha, so this was what an Earth-rank fighter could do—before, he had not been able to do a thing to Zhong Yongliang, and now, barely at the early Earth rank himself, one punch had drawn blood. The gap in strength was no joke!

"I... I'm bleeding?" Zhong Yongliang went pale with shock. He wiped his face, saw the bright red on his hand, and could scarcely believe it. Was he not supposed to be able to block every attack from any cultivator below the Heaven rank? How could he fail to withstand a single punch from Zhao Qibing?

And the searing pain in his face was no illusion—it was deep and real, so sharp it nearly brought him to tears.

"Bang!"

Zhao Qibing paid him no mind and slapped him again. After the humiliation Zhong Yongliang had put him through, he was not about to let this chance for revenge slip by. He could not beat Zhong Yongliang too viciously, not to the point of killing him, but leaving him crippled was well within bounds.

"Awooo—" Zhong Yongliang howled again. "It hurts, it hurts so much..."

"Bang!"

"Ah, I'm going to die of pain..."

"Bang!"

"Stop hitting me..."

"Bang!"

"You... you're a Heaven-rank fighter? You've advanced to the Heaven rank too?"

"Bang!"

"Ah, my leg, my leg is broken..."

"Bang!"

"Ah... I've blacked out..."

After giving Zhong Yongliang a thorough thrashing and finally venting his pent-up anger, Zhao Qibing got into his car, light of heart, humming a little tune as he drove off: "Medicine, medicine, check it out, electric cannon and flying kick, one full set..."

Gao Xiaofu was no cultivator; he could only stand there helplessly, unable to lend a hand. Only after Zhao Qibing had gone did he hurry to help Zhong Yongliang up, and he asked timidly, "Brother Liang, how are you? Please don't die on me..."

"Fuck, are you cursing me? Wei Zhao couldn't beat me to death—you think a Zhao Qibing could?" Zhong Yongliang snapped back in a fury.

"But, you just blacked out a moment ago..." Gao Xiaofu said cautiously.

"If I hadn't blacked out, would he have stopped? He'd have beaten me to death..." Zhong Yongliang staggered up from the ground. His leg was not broken, but the bone was cracked; Zhao Qibing still knew his limits and had not dared to get too carried away.

"So that's how it was..." Gao Xiaofu looked at the sorry state of Zhong Yongliang. "Brother Liang, why has your undershirt malfunctioned again?"

"Who knows? This thing seems to fail selectively, and intermittently. It failed me in front of Wei Zhao, it worked again in front of Right Panhu, and now it's failed again..." Doubt was creeping into Zhong Yongliang's own mind. If Wei Zhao had advanced to the Heaven rank, he could just about believe it—but Zhao Qibing advancing to the Heaven rank? Was that even possible? Had he taken Qi-gathering Pills?

"Then what do we do now..." Gao Xiaofu asked cautiously.

"Back to the Tomorrow-Alliance sect, right now. I don't want to spend another minute in this place." Zhong Yongliang climbed into the car and ordered Gao Xiaofu.

"Yes..." Gao Xiaofu nodded hurriedly, got in, started the engine, and they sped off in a cloud of dust.

After beating Zhong Yongliang, Zhao Qibing was in high spirits and felt like tearing around the streets for a few laps. His racing skills were really something—most professional drivers were no match for him. He had taken a cheap shot in a race once before, and had not raced since.

But before he could find a stretch of road fit for racing, his phone rang.

"Grandfather?" Zhao Qibing was a little surprised. The number was the one in his grandfather's study, and his grandfather did not often call the younger members of the Zhao family of his own accord—so something important must be afoot.

"Qibing, where are you?" Old Master Zhao's voice came through the receiver.

"I'm out on the streets, Grandfather. Is something the matter?" Zhao Qibing asked cautiously.

"I've already spoken with Old Master Yu of the hidden Yu family. Go over there and pick out a martial technique," Old Master Zhao instructed. "But once you're there, remember to be humble and courteous. Don't let them look down on you!"

"Don't worry, Grandfather, I know how to conduct myself!" Zhao Qibing was overjoyed at his grandfather's words. He had not expected news to come so soon—he had thought he would have to wait a while longer! And no wonder he was pleased. In his eyes, a martial technique was a vitally important thing for a cultivator, and the very reason Wei Zhao had been able to fight above his level at the peak of the mid Earth rank was the exquisite refinement of his martial techniques!

Otherwise, why had Wei Zhao shown no such obvious advantage back at the Yellow and Mystic ranks? He could barely fight above his level even then, but after cultivating martial techniques it had become far more pronounced. So Zhao Qibing wanted to choose a formidable martial technique for himself as well.

The Tyrant Fist clearly did not meet Zhao Qibing's standards, for it was a rather ordinary martial technique with nothing especially outstanding about it. Old Man Bi had had no choice back then—he had nothing else to cultivate—but now that there was a choice, he naturally hoped Zhao Qibing could learn something more powerful.

"Mm, go on, then." Old Master Zhao nodded. It had taken no small amount of talking to persuade Old Master Yu of the hidden Yu family. After all, he had snatched Old Master Yu's Qi-gathering Pill, costing Yu Xiaochen his chance to advance to the Heaven rank. But the two families were in-laws, and at the hidden level, their fortunes rose and fell together.

Though Old Master Yu was somewhat displeased that Zhao Qibing had not been groomed as the heir and future head of the family in place of Yu Xiaojin's son, on reflection he could understand Old Master Zhao's reasoning. It was just like in ancient times—why were the sons born of foreign princesses sent off in marriage alliances never eligible to become emperor?

The principle was the same. Was Yu Xiaojin's son to be counted as a member of the Yu family or the Zhao family? If in the future he leaned toward the Yu family, would the Zhao family not become a mere branch of the Yu family? What kind of resolve would it take to make such a decision?

If there had been any other choice, Old Master Zhao would certainly not have been so inclined to make Yu Xiaojin's son the young heir. Having thought it through, Old Master Yu still agreed—but though he consented to let Zhao Qibing choose from several exquisite martial techniques, he set a few obstacles in his path.

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