The only explanation was that Li Qiye had cultivated a body technique beyond compare. That single kick left an indelible impression on Li Shuangyan. She could not let go of his words, and for a long time her mind churned with thought.
The next day, Li Qiye once again appeared at the Martial Hall. Three hundred disciples lined up in the training court, the entire place silent.
After the beating of the previous day, many feared even to breathe when his gaze swept past. Memories of the Snake‑Beating Staff's pain made their skin crawl — even though the miraculous rod inflicted no lasting injury and the Grand Elder's salve had healed their bruises overnight.
"Good," Li Qiye said with a smile. "I'm glad to see so many courageous disciples complained about me. Well then — which of you filed it? Step forward."
Eyes shifted uneasily. That smile of his made hearts pound.
"I did!" Luo Fenghua shouted, standing out. He could walk again, but the plasters on his face ruined his once handsome look.
Li Qiye strolled down from his seat, still smiling. > "I admire the brave. Luo junior brother, you certainly have spine. But those who challenge my authority must be ready to face it. Will you crawl back today or be carried back?"
He drew the Snake‑Beating Staff again. Seeing that familiar rod, every disciple blanched.
"Using a treasure isn't much of a skill," Luo muttered, though his voice trembled. "Fight me fair and square if you dare."
Even a fool could see the ordinary‑looking staff was no ordinary stick.
"You truly wish to spar?" Li Qiye asked, eyes half‑lidded.
That lazy smile unnerved Luo more than any glare, but he gritted his teeth and nodded. > "Yes! If you're stronger, I'll admit defeat."
"As you wish." Li Qiye put away the staff. "As your senior, I should let you strike first."
Delighted that the rod was gone, Luo summoned his sword. The blade gleamed as he took up a tight defensive stance — he'd learned a little fear.
Li Qiye noted it with amusement. > "A bit of talent."
Then his vitality flared. The life wheel spun, blood energy boomed — he kicked.
Bang! Defenses meant nothing. Luo was launched three zhang backward; his sword shattered mid‑air, blood gushed from his mouth, and as he hit the ground — crack! a rib snapped clean through before he fell unconscious.
Li Qiye had refined the Prison‑Suppressing Divine Body (镇狱神体), a body art of infinite weight — his "Ten‑Thousand‑Mountain Kick" was pure mass and dominion.
All three hundred disciples were stunned. Their strongest peer had been felled by a single kick; it was beyond belief.
"You couldn't withstand even a tenth of its weight," Li Qiye remarked softly. "And still you dare speak so boldly."
The kick had been merciful — a true strike would have killed him.
Nan Huairen shook his head. Six months ago Li Qiye hadn't even begun cultivating and still slaughtered powerhouses like Du Yuangguang and Xu Hui; Luo had brought this upon himself. Following his orders, Nan reset Luo's rib, applied medicine, and carried him away.
"Seems I'd best return to the staff — it's safer for you that way." Li Qiye smiled, drawing it once more and pointing casually. > "You — your turn."
"M‑me? Chief Brother, I swear I didn't complain!" the chosen disciple protested, face white.
"I know," Li Qiye said mildly. "But lesson two remains — a good beating. You can try to run, but if I catch you, I promise it will hurt ten times worse."
The boy had no choice but to step forward, stammering, > "Please, go easy on me."
"Don't ask for mercy — earn it through effort," Li Qiye replied, and the staff flashed.
Within two moves the disciple was down and wailing — no blood this time, but pain enough to etch into memory.
Li Qiye tapped the staff on the ground. > "You, you, and you — step out."
Bang — bang — bang! Within the time it takes to eat a meal, all three hundred were again on the ground, groaning. Even without blood, the sting cut to the bone.
Sighing, he murmured to himself, > "Hopeless brats." Then he turned and left.
Day three came. Again the disciples assembled — even bandaged Luo Fenghua dragged himself in. The moment Li Qiye appeared, they stiffened like haunted men — the sound of that staff haunted their dreams.
"Today's lesson is still more beating," Li Qiye announced with a smile.
A collective shudder swept through the crowd.
"Who will go first?"
His eyes swept the rows; many took an instinctive step back.
Finally, one voice rang out: > "I will!" It was Luo Fenghua himself, brandishing a large shield.
"Courageous — and a bit clever," Li Qiye said with a nod.
Bang — bang — bang! Moments later the boy was on the ground again, blood‑streaked. If a mere shield could block the Snake‑Beating Staff, the treasure would never have been worth retrieving from the Ghost Forest.
"Cleverness is fine," Li Qiye said, "but wisdom is better. Learn to think, not just react — today's lesson should spark that thought."
None dared respond. Many bled; all lay moaning.
Day four. Once more they stood in the yard. At his words — > "Lesson Four: more beating. Who first?" — faces drained of color. All stepped back. Even Luo Fenghua kept silent.
Then a voice broke the silence. > "I'll go."
It belonged to a stocky eighteen‑year‑old youth with honest eyes. Li Qiye recognized him — he'd noticed the boy before, the one who always stood his ground, who climbed back up each time he was knocked down.
"What's your name?" Li Qiye asked.
"Reporting to Chief Brother — Zhang Yu," the youth said sheepishly.
"And why volunteer first?" Li Qiye smiled.
"W‑well … you'll beat us whether you're happy or not," Zhang Yu stammered honestly. "So since we can't escape it … it's better to get it over with first."