Chapter 33: Zhang Zhiwei, do you submit?

Watching the younger generation burst into hearty laughter all around him, Zhang Jingqing felt not a shred of annoyance; instead, he felt increasingly delighted.

After witnessing the bout between Zhao Zhen and Lu Jin, Zhang Jingqing had essentially abandoned all expectations of being able to humble Zhang Zhiwei today. After all, who knows a son better than his father, or a student better than his master? How could he, as his teacher, not be aware of just how formidable Zhang Zhiwei’s strength truly was?

Yet, who could have foreseen that just when he had written off Zhao Zhen, the boy would deliver such a surprise! If not for the constraints of his status, Zhang Jingqing would have joined the youngsters in their boisterous laughter right then and there.

"Splendid, a truly magnificent match. Celestial Master, I never imagined you were keeping such a gem hidden away on your mountain." Zuo Ruotong smiled as he glanced at Zhang Jingqing beside him.

"Hah, a gem? He’s just an arrogant brat who thinks a few self-defense tricks make him invincible." Zhang Jingqing suppressed a smile that threatened to spread across his face, shook his head, and slowly walked over to Zhang Zhiwei.

Zhang Zhiwei, having just crawled out of the crater, was about to say something to Zhao Zhen when he looked up and saw his master’s stern, darkened face.

"Master..."

Zhang Zhiwei shrank back. He knew his performance today must have disappointed his teacher. Just as he braced himself for a scathing reprimand, Zhang Jingqing walked straight past him.

"You wretch! I’ll deal with you later."

As the whisper reached his ears, Zhang Zhiwei turned his head in confusion, looking behind him. He saw Zhang Jingqing crouching beside Zhao Zhen, who was lying on the ground, gently placing two fingers on the boy’s wrist.

"Good, nothing serious. Just a bit of overexertion of his *qi*."

As he spoke, Zhang Jingqing took a pill from his robes and, without room for protest, forced it into Zhao Zhen’s mouth. "This is a pill I refined myself; it will help you recover your *qi* quickly."

"Many thanks, Celestial Master..." Zhao Zhen offered a weak smile. He wanted to cup his hands in gratitude, but the exhaustion radiating through his body left him unable to move a single finger.

It was no wonder; during the final exchange with Zhang Zhiwei, Zhao Zhen had used the "Golden Escape Streamer" four times in rapid succession. The first three short-range shifts were manageable, but the final one—tossing Zhang Zhiwei over a hundred meters into the sky—had nearly drained him dry.

One had to understand that while the Golden Escape Streamer could transport people and objects, the *qi* consumption varied wildly based on what was being moved. Much like the difference between moving a pebble and shifting a mountain, the higher the cultivation of the target, the greater the *qi* required. Furthermore, the distance of the transfer was another primary factor. The further the distance, the heavier the cost.

Seemingly sensing Zhao Zhen’s intent, Zhang Jingqing stood up and smiled at him. "Young friend, there is no need for such formalities. If anyone should be giving thanks, it is my foolish disciple for your restraint."

Behind him, Zhang Zhiwei’s eyes flickered, but he ultimately remained silent. He knew his master’s words about restraint were not unfounded. Given Zhao Zhen’s mastery of the Golden Escape Streamer, Zhang Zhiwei didn't believe that tossing him a hundred meters was the limit of his abilities. Had Zhao truly wanted to take his life, he could have just as easily teleported him thousands or even tens of thousands of meters into the air. At that height, no matter how heaven-defying his Golden Light Curse or Thunder Method were, the only outcome would have been falling into a puddle of meat.

Reflecting on this, Zhang Zhiwei finally lowered his proud head and bowed solemnly to Zhao Zhen. "Many thanks, Brother Zhao, for your mercy earlier."

"Brother Zhang, you speak too heavily. Ours was merely a sparring match, not a fight to the death; we both know to stop at the appropriate moment, so why speak of mercy? Besides, if we are talking about restraint, didn't you show me mercy as well? If you hadn't reined in your power at the last second, I would have surely perished under your Thunder Method."

Zhang Jingqing nodded with a smile, his eyes filled with genuine appreciation for Zhao Zhen. "Both of you are truly phoenixes among men. This match today has truly been an eye-opener."

Zuo Ruotong and Lu Jin walked over from behind Zhang Zhiwei. As he stepped forward to help Zhao Zhen up, Lu Jin gave a sly wink and, shielded from Zuo Ruotong’s view, gave Zhao Zhen a thumbs-up.

"Celestial Master, since both of these young men showed restraint at the critical moment, why not declare this match a draw?"

"Hmm, very well, I have no objections. Zhang Zhiwei, do you accept this?" Zhang Jingqing nodded, then cast a cold, sidelong glance at his disciple.

"This disciple accepts."

Seeing Zhang Zhiwei’s uncharacteristically obedient demeanor, Zhang Jingqing felt a surge of satisfaction. *So, Zhang Zhiwei, you’ve been so high and mighty all these years—why so docile now? Walking around with your nose in the air, arrogant as a lion who thinks no one exists but himself! Now that you’ve met a peer who can keep you in check, you’ve lost your edge, haven't you? I was debating whether to spike your breakfast with a little something this morning, but it seems I’ve been spared the trouble... Good work, kid. Good work.*

Zhao Zhen, seeing the scene, tried to say something more, but the exhaustion finally overwhelmed him. His vision went black, and he fainted right into Lu Jin’s arms.

"Brother Zhao? Brother Zhao! Are you alright?"

"He is fine, just severely depleted of *qi*," Zuo Ruotong said, shaking his head with a faint, helpless smile. "Jin'er."

"Yes, Master."

"Take Zhao Zhen to a place where he can rest properly for a while."

"Yes, Master!"

***

That night.

When Zhao Zhen opened his eyes again, he found himself in the familiar temporary quarters Lu Jin had arranged for him. He sat up slowly; the hollow sensation of overexertion had vanished, likely thanks to the pill Zhang Jingqing had fed him.

*Crack, pop.*

Zhao Zhen stretched his limbs, his body emitting a series of pops like roasting beans.

"Whew... I suppose this is the first time since I started my journey that I’ve pushed myself this hard," Zhao Zhen sighed, a flash of reflection in his eyes.

His opponent was the man known as "The One," Zhang Zhiwei. To fight to such a standstill felt like a significant achievement. After all, in terms of raw cultivation and lifespan, he was indeed inferior to Zhang Zhiwei. The reason he had managed a draw today was twofold: first, it was a friendly spar where both sides naturally held back. Second, Zhao Zhen understood Zhang Zhiwei’s personality well enough to design that final, "mad" suicidal maneuver—a desperate "limit-trade."

While the final teleportation seemed simple, it contained layers of psychological warfare. He knew Zhang Zhiwei would never aim to kill, which is why he dared to risk taking a direct hit from the Yin Thunder to get close. If this had been a real, life-or-death struggle, he would never have chosen such a "suboptimal" strategy.

Using the Golden Escape Streamer to toss someone into the sky seemed like an uncounterable move, but its limitations were vast. First, it required direct physical contact. The difficulty of achieving that against Zhang Zhiwei’s protective lightning was immense—had Zhang not held back, Zhao would have been charred to a crisp. Furthermore, if he were already close enough to make contact, he would have had simpler, more direct ways to end the fight without such a convoluted maneuver.

Still, all things considered, he felt the move had been used to perfection against Zhang Zhiwei.