Panic flickered in his eyes.
Ming Yang sneered. It was clear that Ji Fudong’s sore spot had been struck.
"Still not convinced?" Ji Fudong barked. "I’ll beat you until you are! Mr. Gu, it’s your turn!"
Mr. Gu, who had been standing behind Ji Fudong with his eyes closed in meditation, suddenly snapped them open. A sharp, brilliant flash of light flickered in his gaze. A heavy, mountain-like aura of a Martial Arts Grandmaster erupted from him, crashing toward Ming Yang like an invisible, colossal wave. He intended to use the crushing pressure of a Martial Arts Grandmaster to force Ming Yang into silence.
The terrifying pressure sent tremors through everyone present. Yet, a shocking scene unfolded. Despite the pressure—enough to shatter the courage and senses of an ordinary martial artist—Ming Yang stood as motionless as a pine tree. His expression remained calm and unruffled; not even his eyes betrayed a hint of change. Instead, a more restrained yet purer and more domineering invisible energy slowly emanated from his body, dissolving Mr. Gu’s aggressive pressure as effortlessly as spring rain washing away dust.
Those standing near Ming Yang felt no effect at all. The difference in skill was immediately clear.
Although the surrounding merchants did not understand martial arts, they were all experts at reading a room. Watching Ji Fudong’s blustering, frantic behavior and contrasting it with Ming Yang’s effortless, distinguished demeanor, they had already reached their own conclusions. Who was the clown, and who was the true dragon hiding in the deep? It was obvious at a glance.
Li Mingxuan, the representative from Mingxuan Group, looked at Ming Yang with growing appreciation and amazement. He stepped forward and said in a clear voice, "I believe in Ms. Xu’s character, and I trust the strength and credibility of the Xu Group."
"Young Master Ji, business competition is based on skill. If you cannot provide concrete evidence and rely solely on hearsay to publicly slander a peer at such an important event, it is hardly becoming of a gentleman and will only invite ridicule."
Li Mingxuan’s words were impartial, yet they undoubtedly sided with the Xu Family.
"You... you all..."
Choked by the tag-team remarks of Ming Yang and Li Mingxuan, Ji Fudong was left speechless, his face turning the color of pig liver. Consumed by anger and embarrassment, his last shred of reason vanished. He whipped his head toward Mr. Gu and shrieked hysterically, "Old Gu! Stop wasting breath on him! Disable this arrogant brat for me! Break his arms and legs! Let’s see who dares to partner with the Xu Family today!"
Upon hearing this, killing intent surged in Mr. Gu’s eyes. As a high-paid Grandmaster retained by the Ji Family, his duty was to clear all obstacles for them.
"Brat, you had a path to heaven, but you refused to take it; you chose to barge into the gates of hell!" Mr. Gu spoke grimly, taking a heavy step forward.
*Boom!*
The atmosphere of the entire venue seemed to freeze in that instant. A biting, icy chill filled the air. Mr. Gu’s hawk-like eyes flared with undisguised malice.
"Die!"
With a low roar, the terrifying aura of a Martial Arts Grandmaster erupted from his body like a solid storm. The entire investment conference venue was stirred by an invisible hand. The air groaned under the pressure. Delicate display stands and tables nearby shook violently, creaking under the impact of the energy, and some were even sent flying. Calling it a scene of "flying sand and moving stones" was no exaggeration.
The pampered merchants had never seen such a terrifying sight. Pale with fear, they screamed and scrambled for cover, terrified of being caught in the crossfire.
The moment his aura exploded, Mr. Gu moved. He transformed into a hunting eagle, pouncing toward Ming Yang with lethal, lightning-fast speed. His opening move was a vicious, decades-honed killing strike; his thin, withered hands became like sharp talons, aiming straight for Ming Yang’s throat, heart, and other fatal pressure points.
His speed, force, and explosive power were not comparable to the assassin known as "Shadow" or the ordinary bodyguards of the Ji Family. He was even a cut above the reclusive ancestor of the Ji Family. This was the true power of a Martial Arts Grandmaster.
"Qingchi, move back!" Ming Yang cautioned, his expression grave but entirely devoid of panic.
He gently pushed Xu Qingchi behind him and faced the raging sea of Mr. Gu’s assault alone. Faced with this earth-shattering blow, Ming Yang did not choose a head-on collision. Instead, he shifted his feet, his body moving like a dragon through water or a willow in the wind, dodging Mr. Gu’s strike along an incredibly mysterious trajectory. This was the footwork he had realized from Feng Shui arrays—the Dragon-Roaming Step.
Mr. Gu missed his mark; a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but his offense did not slow. If anything, it became even more violent. Soon, the air was filled with claw shadows and howling gusts of wind.
Ming Yang was like a lone boat in a storm, dodging and weaving with ease. Though he appeared to be in a precarious, desperate situation, every step he took was precise, allowing him to evade fatal attacks by a hair’s breadth. At the same time, his deep eyes remained calm, observing every move and style of Mr. Gu, analyzing the characteristics of his power and the subtle fluctuations in his energy flow.
After a few moments of fighting, Ming Yang gradually realized that Mr. Gu’s martial arts were indeed fierce and domineering, characterized by wide, powerful movements. However, perhaps due to his advanced age, declining vitality, or deep-seated injuries sustained long ago, there were moments of minute, almost imperceptible sluggishness in his energy flow. To an ordinary opponent, this would mean nothing, but to a master of Ming Yang’s insight, it was a fatal flaw.
The earth-shaking battle had already alerted everyone at the conference. The merchants hid in the corners, necks craned, watching the "clash of immortals"—a scene usually reserved for movies—with terror, their hearts leaping into their throats.
Wang Qiang, a middle-aged official wearing a badge labeled "Director of the Investment Promotion Office," hurried over with a dozen uniformed security guards, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Stop! Stop immediately! This is an investment conference! It is not a place for you to run wild!" Director Wang shouted in a desperate, blustering tone, trying to halt the sudden violence.
However, how would Mr. Gu, currently driven by bloodlust and acting like a mad tiger, pay any heed to the scolding of a mere director? Although the security guards held batons, they were trembling as they watched the inhuman destructive power on display, not daring to step in and risk their lives against such terrifying energy.
Meanwhile, Ji Fudong watched from the sidelines, dancing with excitement, his face twisted in a manic grin.