Chapter Seventy-Two: How Much Hardship and Suffering Have I, Hu Chaoyang, Endured...

"You! How could you..." Hu Chaoyang stared at Qin Jing in utter disbelief. He had already reached Transcendent Level One, and could naturally sense the unceasing flow of spiritual energy emanating from Qin Jing. This was a force entirely different from the demonic power he cultivated—pure, potent, even superior in essence to his own.

How could this be possible! Hu Chaoyang wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. He had endured endless suffering and hardship for the strength he possessed today. Yet Qin Jing—he had never heard of Qin Jing having any exposure to this realm. How could he, how dare he, become a Transcendent?

Hu Chaoyang still remembered the darkness and agony he experienced while imprisoned. In that hellish place, those creatures were hardly human; they tormented him mercilessly. Fortunately, he later encountered his master—a supreme powerhouse. His master recognized his talent but set forth several difficult trials. To complete them, Hu Chaoyang had even offered himself up for further torment.

The memory sent a shiver through him, and he felt a lingering ache.

"Now, those people suffer a fate worse than death. I've paid so much to become strong, Qin Jing—now you will taste my pain, one by one!"

With a savage grin, Hu Chaoyang lunged forward, intent on unleashing the ultimate technique passed down by his master...

A crisp slap rang out.

A palm appeared before Hu Chaoyang—no one saw when it got there. With a thunderous crash, the slap seemed ordinary, almost absent of spiritual fluctuations, yet it struck directly at the head of the fierce wraith beside him. The ghostly head, formed only of condensed demonic power, shattered instantly. With a miserable shriek, the wraith dissipated into wisps of black smoke.

"Ah?" Hu Chaoyang’s expression turned blank with shock. That wraith had been forged from the most formidable prisoner, after endless torments and seething resentment—it was more powerful than he was. How had it been obliterated with a single slap?

Something had to be wrong.

Qin Jing hadn’t moved at all. The one who acted was, of course, Alchemy Unit One, who had been waiting in the trunk of the F650 as Qin Jing’s personal bodyguard. When Qin Jing sensed something amiss, he had quietly summoned it.

"It's lucky Hu Chaoyang is still a novice, eager for a confrontation after meeting me. Otherwise, with my lack of combat experience, facing him head-on might have left me at a disadvantage."

Qin Jing reflected silently. This was a mistake he could not afford to repeat. From now on, wherever he went, he would always bring an alchemical puppet. In this world where spiritual energy was returning, danger lurked everywhere. He was still too weak; any misstep could lead him straight into peril.

Yet this mistake also revealed a flaw: his utter lack of practical experience—he had never even been in a fight. In truth, his skills were just for show. He could circulate spiritual power to resist Hu Chaoyang’s ghostly aura, but he had no means to counterattack.

"Unit One, stand by for support. I’ll take on Hu Chaoyang myself."

Qin Jing’s greatest strength was his ability to learn from failure. Back when he was expelled from university by Hu Chaoyang, he realized the importance of connections and influence. Over the next year, he deliberately honed himself. Once a reclusive student, he transformed rapidly—learning to speak shrewdly, negotiate with street vendors in Erdaozi Alley, and sharpen his wit.

Now, recognizing his lack of combat experience, he decided to use Hu Chaoyang as his trial.

Like a street brawler, Qin Jing charged at Hu Chaoyang.

Though Hu Chaoyang lacked practical experience as a Transcendent, he had a master—giving him an edge over Qin Jing. As Qin Jing lunged, Hu Chaoyang activated a sensory ability, accurately tracking his trajectory and kicking out at Qin Jing’s leg.

Another slap-like crack sounded.

Striking with demonic power at Transcendent Level One would have easily shattered an ordinary person’s bones. Yet Qin Jing felt only a fleeting numbness. The sudden surge of demonic power was instantly absorbed by his Six Strategies spiritual energy, causing him no harm at all.

"So, Six Strategies spiritual energy is of a higher order than his cultivation. His demonic power can’t hurt me at all," Qin Jing mused. He pressed the attack, while Hu Chaoyang, frowning, shifted to a defensive stance.

The two exchanged blows—at first, Qin Jing’s attacks were wild and uncoordinated, but gradually, he found some rhythm. His moves, though simple punches and kicks, became more cautious and precise.

Hu Chaoyang appeared competent, always seizing on Qin Jing’s openings. Yet each time, the black demonic energy he unleashed proved useless. When their powers collided, his was instantly broken; in terms of fundamental strength, he was outmatched. Gradually, he found himself being pushed onto the back foot.

How could this be? When did this guy even begin cultivating? His spiritual energy was scarce—he hadn’t even broken through to Transcendent Level One. How was he overpowering me?

He was just a penniless nobody before. So what if he was clever in business? How could he surpass me even in extraordinary power?

I’ve suffered so much—why am I still being suppressed by Qin Jing?

He grew more furious with each exchange, his power surging in frustration. It seemed that, driven by rage, he made some progress during the fight. Yet whenever he advanced, Qin Jing’s combat abilities seemed to improve just enough to keep him subdued. The sense of helplessness was maddening—he was like a mouse caught under a cat’s paw, unable to escape no matter how he struggled.

"Enough—training’s over."

At that moment, Qin Jing murmured, signaling the end. Training? So you weren’t even serious? Are you mocking me?

Hu Chaoyang’s resentment deepened, and then—

A figure, who had been standing quietly near Qin Jing, flashed before Hu Chaoyang. With a single slap, a surging force crashed into him—ferocious and domineering. All the demonic power within him was instantly dismantled. The blow struck his core of strength; a searing pain pierced his spirit. His very core had been shattered with a single slap.

Impossible! The demonic power I cultivated with such agony—my strength—just destroyed, like that?

Hu Chaoyang’s face turned ashen. He recalled his recent days of swaggering dominance, wielding power beyond the imagination of ordinary people. He had thought he could do as he pleased on this campus, monopolize all the beauties, trample his enemies, and make the world bow before him...

With a dull thud, Hu Chaoyang collapsed to his knees.