Chapter Forty-One: Meeting Duanmu Meng’er Again

What Zheng Yuan took out was indeed lightning-struck wood, and a piece the size of a palm at that—quite a rarity. Its surface was charred black, indicating that a long time had passed since it was struck. Chu Han accepted the lightning wood, sensing it with his internal energy. The power of thunder within remained perfectly preserved, filling him with delight.

“Thank you, General. This is exactly what I need. I truly don't know how to thank you,” Chu Han said with genuine surprise, cupping his fists in gratitude. Though he spoke this way, he understood well enough why Zheng Yuan had presented him with such a treasure. Lightning-struck wood was extremely valuable; Zheng Yuan clearly wished to win him over. But that was just as well—the Tang family and Lantian Camp were now unambiguously allies, and he no longer needed to worry about the Tang family’s safety.

“No need for thanks. I have no use for this myself. I happened to hear Sun Hao mention that you once bought lightning wood at an auction, so I thought you might need it. Just a small gesture,” Zheng Yuan replied with a smile, not stating his true intentions. Both men were shrewd, and understood each other’s motives without words; some things were better left unsaid.

After chatting for a while, Chu Han took his leave. As he made his way home, his thoughts lingered on the encounter. Danqing was certainly a remarkable figure, but he had met his match in the General of Lantian. Defeat was nothing shameful. In fact, the general was the most inscrutable person Chu Han had ever met; even he couldn’t fully discern Zheng Yuan’s intentions.

When he returned to the Tang residence and was just about to enter, a sudden gust of force whooshed toward him. Startled, he leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the attack. Blue lightning curled around his body, ready to strike back at any moment.

He was astonished. Yongquan Palace and Lin Jiayi had already been destroyed by his hand—who in Jingyuan City would still dare attack him? Could it be the Prince’s men?

He looked up, and upon seeing his assailant, was even more surprised. He knew this person well; she was someone he’d only just parted ways with—Duanmu Meng’er.

“Duanmu Meng’er? What are you doing here? Didn’t you just leave using a secret art? And how did you know I was staying here?”

He could scarcely imagine that it would be Duanmu Meng’er, and that she would find the Tang residence so accurately. It deepened his curiosity about who she truly was. What’s more, the secret art she’d used to escape was one he had never seen before. He’d heard that some great clans possessed such techniques, so her background was certainly not simple.

“Heh. I told you when I left that we’d meet again—and that I’d kill you. After what you did to me in the Forbidden Zone of the Primordial Realm, you should have known this day would come,” Duanmu Meng’er sneered. She darted forward, dagger in hand, her speed far surpassing what she’d shown in the Primordial Realm—her strength had increased at a staggering rate.

Chu Han dared not be careless. Planting his feet, he met her dagger with his fist. Both were forced back several steps. Chu Han glanced at his fist—a faint white mark marred his skin, and his expression darkened.

Since he’d mastered the Infernal Golden Body, this was the first time he’d been injured. Though it was only a scratch that vanished quickly, it meant Duanmu Meng’er’s dagger could indeed wound him.

“Oh? To think you could block my attack. You’ve grown stronger. Still, you will die today,” Duanmu Meng’er remarked, surprised. In the Forbidden Zone, she had been only a wisp of soul; now, in her true body, her power had soared. She’d reached the Dao Palace realm, albeit just the first stage, but that still made her far stronger than Chu Han, who was only at the Wheel Sea stage.

Beyond the Heavenly Palace realm lay the Dao Palace realm, which comprised ten levels. Duanmu Meng’er had just broken through to the first of them, yet she still could not injure Chu Han.

“You’ve improved as well, but that alone won’t be enough to make me surrender,” Chu Han replied, arching an eyebrow, battle spirit rekindled within him. Sensing her strength, he felt a thrill—lately, his opponents had been too weak, easily dispatched with a single punch. Now, finally, he’d met a worthy adversary.

Duanmu Meng’er said nothing more, but took several steps forward, her eyes flashing with a strange, seven-colored light. Before Chu Han could react, she lunged, dagger aimed at him.

Suddenly, Chu Han found his body immobilized—the same technique she had used on him in the Primordial Realm. She clearly intended to repeat her old trick.

Indeed, Duanmu Meng’er closed in, stabbing her dagger fiercely at his face, a smile playing at her lips; she clearly meant to end the fight with this move.

But she was disappointed. At the very instant the dagger was about to strike, Chu Han laughed—an audible, derisive laugh. He stretched out his right hand, seized her wrist, and flung her away with force.

She had not expected him to counterattack. Unable to dodge, she crashed to the ground, coughing lightly, and rose in disarray.

“I may not know how your technique works, but I won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Chu Han said with a laugh. He stripped off his shirt, revealing a patch of charred black across his chest. It turned out that, once ensnared by her technique, he’d used his own lightning power to inflict pain on himself, thus breaking her spell.

Though he had broken free, he had hidden his intent, waiting until she was certain of victory to strike unexpectedly, wounding her in a single move.

Attack while the enemy is weak—that had always been Chu Han’s creed. While she was still struggling to her feet, he charged, fist whistling through the air with such force that the wind howled, testifying to the power behind the blow.

But the punch did not land as expected. Duanmu Meng’er slipped beneath his arm like a nimble dormouse, her movements deft and agile, and with a swift reversal, stabbed her dagger at the back of his head.

It all happened in an instant—deadly quick. Chu Han tilted his head just enough to avoid the blade, but a lock of his hair was sheared away, drifting gently to the ground.

Chu Han laughed—her strength was indeed impressive, but he too had yet to reveal his true power. Now that the probing was over, the real fight would begin.

The blue lightning crackling around Chu Han’s body grew even more intense, so fierce that the surrounding trees were reduced to ash. He charged forward, his speed pushed to the extreme, appearing before her in a flash, his fist launching like a cannonball.

Duanmu Meng’er was not to be outdone. Her dagger shone with rainbow light as it met his fist. The resulting impact sent out a violent shockwave, filling the air with dust and obscuring everything from view.

The noise of their battle was so great that it woke the entire Tang household. Everyone hurried over to see what was happening, but with dust swirling everywhere, nothing could be seen.

“Cough, cough—so, are you dead yet?” Duanmu Meng’er stood up from the ground. The blast had left her clothes in tatters, strips hanging loose, blood trailing from her lips, and her body staggering.

“You’re still alive—how could I be dead? Let’s continue.”