Chapter 9: Luo Chen Breaks Down Again

The scene shifted to the martial arena outside the banquet hall.

The grounds were wide and orderly, clearly arranged in advance by Luo Chen.
Guests sat in neat rows, Luo clansmen separated from outsiders.
At the center stage, Luo Chen stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Before long, a tall young man stepped forward, cupped his fists, and said,
“Since the Young Master wishes it, I, Luo Yuanshan, will take the first match.”

His arrival stirred murmurs among the Luo juniors.

“Luo Yuanshan? He’s already at Mid Foundation Establishment, and he fights ruthlessly in real combat.”
“I heard during his last training trip, he suppressed all three sons of the Li family single-handedly—beat them so badly they couldn’t get out of bed for half a month.”
“He’s straightforward by nature. For him to step up first isn’t surprising.”

Luo Chen smiled faintly and gestured.
“Please.”

Luo Yuanshan wasted no words.
His foot sank, body leapt, and his right fist blasted out like thunder, power surging, the sharp wind of the strike pressing straight toward Luo Chen’s face.

The Luo clansmen tensed.
Some swallowed nervously.

No one dared underestimate this fist-trained cousin.
Even less did they think Luo Chen could easily withstand such a blow.

Yet the instant Luo Yuanshan closed in, Luo Chen’s body tilted aside.
His right palm shot out, precise to the extreme, striking squarely on Luo Yuanshan’s shoulder.

Everyone watched as Luo Yuanshan’s steps faltered, sliding backward uncontrollably until he barely steadied himself at the stage’s edge.

Luo Chen didn’t press the attack.
He immediately withdrew his hand, stepped back half a pace, and bowed slightly.
“Concession.”

The arena fell silent.

Luo Yuanshan’s brows are knitted tight.
After a long breath, he finally said quietly,
“I’ve lost.”

Only then did gasps ripple through the audience.

In less than three breaths, Luo Yuanshan—equal in realm to Luo Chen—had been defeated.
And it was no contest at all.

Everyone had seen it clearly.
Luo Chen’s force was not only accurate but astonishingly controlled.
Every strike avoided lasting injury, yet left his opponent utterly powerless to resist.

Many Luo juniors exchanged glances, and in their eyes, respect had already taken root.

Onstage, Luo Chen reached out and helped Yuanshan up.
“Brother Yuanshan’s fists are fierce and heavy.
Had I not evaded in time, I might not have prevailed.”

Yuanshan returned the salute and stepped down.
Though his expression was complicated, there was no resentment—only convinced acceptance.

Several Luo elders exchanged nods, approving smiles on their faces.

“Steady hands. No arrogance. No flashy tricks.”
“He wins without shaming his clansmen. This child has a good heart.”

On the high platform, the three patriarchs sat side by side.

Luo Changqing sipped his wine, joy shining in his eyes.
“My son, he does me proud.”

Li Yunzhen and Xiao Qiankun were both taken aback.
This Luo Chen’s skill was far beyond the rumors.
They had thought Luo Changqing was merely propping him up.

Now it seemed this Young Master’s seat was well-earned—and firmly held.

Xiao Qiankun clicked his tongue with a sigh.
“A pity my boy isn’t here. Else he could spar with Luo Chen as well. What a rare chance it would’ve been.”

Li Yunzhen said nothing, only staring deep, unreadable.

Luo Changqing smiled.
“No matter. In a few days, the Azure Cloud Secret Realm will open.
The youngsters are bound to meet there. Plenty of chances to test each other then.”

Meanwhile, Luo Chen scanned the arena, his tone calm.
“Who else is willing to enlighten me?”

The crowd exchanged hesitant looks.

Then a voice rang out from among the juniors.
“I am Luo Yan. May I ask for Young Master’s instruction.”

Another clansman, lean and cold-faced, stepped onto the stage.

The Luo juniors stirred uneasily.

“Luo Yan too? Hasn’t he always sided with Luo Jiutian—cough.”
“This one’s not easy. With the late Foundation Establishment, he never accepts anyone.”
“He used to clash constantly with Luo Jiutian. Now that the Young Master has changed, I’m afraid he wants to seize the chance to show off.”

On stage, Luo Yan bowed perfunctorily, his eyes showing no respect.

Luo Chen remained serene and nodded.
“Please.”

At once, Luo Yan moved.
His steps flickered, fingers shaped like swords, thrusting straight for the kill.

His strikes were vicious, accurate, offering no room for retreat.
Every move went straight for the throat.

Luo Chen did not dodge.
When the attack neared, his right palm rose obliquely, his left hand drew back, stance sinking.
In a flash, his form shifted.

His fingertips twisted, diverting Luo Yan’s attack aside.
Then his elbow struck back, driving into Luo Yan’s waist.

Luo Yan grunted, stumbling, but quickly steadied himself and lunged again.

The two clashed rapidly.
In only a few exchanges, they had crossed several times already.

Yet Luo Chen never lost footing.
His rhythm was flawless, his techniques measured.

The spectators were stunned.

Luo Yan, giving his all, only exposed more and more openings.

In the next head-on clash, Luo Chen shifted a step, tugged, and Luo Yan lost his balance completely.
With a final strike, his palm wind roared like thunder, forcing Luo Yan back to the very edge of the stage, his foot nearly slipping off.

Luo Chen withdrew at once, not pressing further.
“Concession.”

Luo Yan’s teeth ground hard, his face dark.

Scattered applause broke out from the seats.
Eyes turned toward him—some complicated, some cold.

Without a word, Luo Yan cupped his fists, turned, and left the stage.

Voices rose from the stands.

“Our Young Master is remarkable indeed! First day back, and he’s already subdued someone as hardheaded as Luo Yan!”
“Exactly. Our former Young Master used to suffer plenty under Luo Yan. But now? The difference is clear as day, tsk tsk…”
“In the end, it’s all about strength. Luo Jiutian should’ve stepped down sooner—could’ve saved the clan a lot of wasted years.”

The words weren’t loud, but they were clear enough for everyone to hear.

Luo Chen’s heart swelled with satisfaction.
The corners of his mouth curled into a grin—crooked enough to shame a Dragon King.

He turned deliberately toward Luo Jiutian in the crowd, eager to see what expression the former Young Master now wore.

Was it a disappointment?
Rage?
Or forced calm?

But when his eyes fell on Jiutian, Luo Chen’s smile froze.

For there sat Luo Jiutian, relaxed at the edge of the seats.
On one side, Su Wan’er gently massaged his shoulder with intimate care.
On the other hand, Luo Yunlan poured tea for him with soft hands.

…What?

How was this fair?

Here he was, sweating and battling onstage—
Yet his fiancée and his elder sister were doting on that useless trash?

[ Ding! Host has successfully broken the Mental Guard of the Child of Fate ‘Luo Chen.’ Fortune value converting… ]

[ Current countdown to Blue Star’s return: 297 years, 6 months. ]
[ 6 months deducted. Remaining time: 297 years. ]

Hearing the voice in his mind, Luo Jiutian looked up in confusion—
just in time to meet Luo Chen’s shadowed gaze.

But soon, Luo Chen smoothed his expression, a smile returning to his lips.

He called out, voice loud and calm:
“Brother Jiutian, I’ve sparred with several of our clan tonight.
Would you care to come down and cross a few moves with me?”

The moment those words fell, every eye turned toward Luo Jiutian.

The atmosphere grew taut.
All knew Luo Chen’s true aim—
to trample Jiutian underfoot and cement his Young Master’s authority.

Luo Yunlan’s eyes chilled, and she moved to rise—
but Luo Jiutian’s hand pressed her shoulder down.

Su Wan’er opened her mouth, but Jiutian raised a hand, gesturing for silence.

He rose slowly, dusting his robe.
“Since the Young Master is so eager, I, naturally, must oblige.”

Before the words had even faded, Luo Jiutian stepped onto the stage under countless astonished stares…