20demayo Chapter 354 Guidance
Chapter 354 Guidance
A group of people left the main hall and came to the square outside the hall.
The square wasn't large, but it was paved with bluestone and kept very clean.
The glow-in-the-dark array has been activated, and soft fluorescent light rises from the ground, illuminating the entire square and making even the cracks in the stone slabs clearly visible.
Murong Jing, Murong Hong, and Murong Yun stood on the steps, enjoying the best view from their elevated position.
The civil and military officials stood on both sides, craning their necks and standing on tiptoe, their eyes shining brightly.
Some military officers even brought out stools—stood on them, and looked down from above.
Murong Jing turned around and glared at them, his eyes conveying a clear message: Mind your image!
Several military officers came down sheepishly, but their necks were stretched out even longer.
Lingbo arrived at the edge of the square at some point.
Leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, as quiet as a shadow, his white robes fluttering gently in the night breeze.
If you didn't look closely, you'd think there was an extra white pillar on the colonnade.
Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were bright, staring intently at Lin Chen in the center of the square, without blinking.
Meng Chi walked to the center of the square and stood with his hands behind his back.
The old man had changed his demeanor by now.
Just moments ago, he was a humble and respectful old national advisor in the hall, but now, standing there, he seemed to have grown three inches taller, his back straight, his aura calm and composed, like a silent mountain.
Lin Chen stood opposite him, his hands tucked into his sleeves, smiling broadly as if he were strolling through his own backyard.
His posture and expression made him look like he was just taking a stroll, not coming to fight.
"Imperial Advisor, come on." Lin Chen raised his chin, his tone as casual as if he were saying, "You eat first."
Meng Chi took a deep breath.
Close your eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, his entire demeanor had changed.
It wasn't a gradual increase; it was a sudden, explosive eruption, like a volcano.
The aura of a late-stage Grandmaster was fully unleashed, and the air in the square instantly froze, as if filled with lead, pressing heavily on everyone's chest.
The bluestone slabs under his feet made a "crackling" sound, and several cracks spread out from the soles of his feet like a spider web.
The expressions of the onlookers changed.
They were all martial artists, and they knew what this meant.
When a Grandmaster in the late stage unleashes their full power, the area within a radius of ten feet becomes their domain.
If an ordinary person stood inside, they wouldn't even be able to stand properly, let alone move; their legs would be as weak as noodles.
A military officer swallowed hard and whispered to the person next to him, "Is the Imperial Advisor... serious?"
The people next to him ignored him, their eyes fixed on the square.
Meng Chi raised his hand and struck out with a palm.
The palm strike, imbued with powerful true energy, roared in like a tiger leaping from the deep mountains, tearing the air apart with a sharp whistling sound.
Wherever the palm strike passed, a row of bluestone slabs on the ground were lifted up, exploding with a "crackling" sound, and flying fragments of stone.
That palm strike could crush not only a person, but also a city wall.
Lin Chen stood still.
He simply raised one hand and lightly brushed it aside.
There was no loud noise.
There was no explosion.
There was no blinding light from the collision of energy.
The violent palm strike seemed to have crashed into a bottomless pit, disappearing silently.
The lifted bluestone slabs stopped in mid-air, as if a pause button had been pressed, and they were suspended for a moment.
Then it gently landed back on the ground, fitting perfectly, as if it had never been moved, without even stirring up any dust.
Meng Chi's pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints.
His full-force attack was neutralized with a flick of the wrist, without even a sound.
This is no longer a matter of cultivation level; it's about the control over power reaching a point that he can't even comprehend.
It's like you throw a stone with all your might, and the other person extends a finger and gently taps it, causing the stone to stop right in front of your face, completely still.
How should I put this feeling...
I feel like swearing.
But I also feel like kneeling down.
Lin Chen withdrew his hand, put it back in his sleeve, and said with a smile:
"Imperial Advisor, don't hold back. You're still worried about me. Are you afraid of hurting me?"
Meng Chi blushed.
indeed.
When he made his move, he subconsciously held back three-tenths of his strength.
It wasn't intentional; it was instinct.
The other party is the Prince of Zhenbei, a prince of Dayan, and the king's son-in-law. If he is really injured, he can't take the blame.
Lin Chen saw through his thoughts and smiled:
"Don't worry, you can't hurt me. If you can, I'll buy you a drink."
Meng Chi took a deep breath, and his eyes changed.
Lin Chen's words completely dispelled any concerns he might have had.
He formed hand seals, and his aura surged once more—this time, he was truly giving it his all.
His inner energy surged within him, causing his robes to flutter and rustle even without wind, as if blown by a fan.
With a stomp of his foot, he transformed into a blur and charged toward Lin Chen.
Fists, palms, elbows, and knees—a barrage of attacks.
Each move was imbued with powerful internal energy, causing the air to crackle and pop like firecrackers or thunder rolling across the square.
Meng Chi's fist left marks on the square, shattering the bluestone slabs and sending fragments flying, which then struck the surrounding pillars with a "crackling" sound.
He performed a complete set of ancient Nanzhao boxing techniques, with simple yet powerful moves, expansive and sweeping, and every punch landing hard.
He has practiced this set of boxing techniques for sixty years, and he can fight with his eyes closed.
At this moment, he unleashed his full power, becoming like a raging beast, each punch carrying overwhelming force.
But Lin Chen...
Lin Chen seemed to be taking a stroll.
He dodged left and right, his steps as light as if he were strolling in a garden, his hands always tucked into his sleeves, occasionally tilting his head or shoulder, and taking a small step.
Each time, they just barely avoided Meng Chi's attacks.
It's not fast.
It is accurate.
Before Meng Chi's fist even arrived, he already knew where it would land and stepped aside in advance.
Sometimes, even when you see a fist about to hit him, he just shifts his body slightly and slips away, like a fish swimming in water, so slippery that you can't catch it no matter what.
Meng Chi fought faster and fiercer, veins bulging on his forehead, and sweat was evaporated by his true energy, turning into wisps of white smoke.
His breathing became heavier and heavier, like a bellows, "huffing and puffing".
But his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
Because every time Lin Chen dodged, he saw the flaws in his moves.
Those problems that he hadn't discovered in sixty years of practice were now as clear as torches in the dark.
His punch was off-angled by an inch.
That palm strike was delivered too quickly.
That kick was mistimed.
Lin Chen didn't say anything, but instead used evasive tactics to bring his questions to the forefront one by one.
Meng Chi felt as if he were looking in a mirror, but the mirror didn't reflect his own face; it reflected his martial arts.
It was so clear it sent chills down my spine.