Chapter 79: The Conflict Begins

Liu Feng watched Yang Hao and his companions, his eyes flickering. From their words alone, it was clear they had come looking for trouble.

Of course, Liu Feng could see through their intentions, and so could Zhao Hong and the others. However, since the Zhao family had already had an unpleasant episode with the Zhang family today, Zhao Hong and his companions did not wish to make any more enemies. Thus, they gritted their teeth and endured Yang Hao’s provocations.

But their forbearance did not help; on the contrary, it made Yang Hao and his followers bolder, their words growing more reckless and unrestrained.

When Yang Hao heard Zhao Hong telling him to leave, his expression changed at once. He said coldly, “Zhao Hong, I came to enlighten you, and not only do you fail to thank me, but you want to shut me out? Isn’t that going too far?”

“That’s right! To think Brother Yang came all this way out of goodwill to advise you, and yet you don’t appreciate it. Now you want to throw us out? Truly, a kind heart wasted on a dog,” sneered one of Yang Hao’s men.

Although Zhao Hong and his companions did not want to cause more trouble for the Zhao family, they were still young and hot-blooded. With each mocking word from Yang Hao and his group, their expressions shifted, barely containing their anger.

Yang Hao and his men continued their act, taking turns to play out their ridiculous charade.

Unable to endure it any longer, Zhao Hong shouted, “Enough, Yang Hao! You’re not drunk—you’re here to make trouble, aren’t you?”

Yang Hao’s expression turned sinister as he finally dropped the pretense. “That’s right, we’re here to cause trouble. You’ve already fallen out with the Zhang family; now you don’t dare oppose the Yang family as well, do you?”

Zhao Jun’s face darkened, and he forced down his fury. “Just say what you want—what’s your purpose here?”

Yang Hao threw his head back with a laugh, then said coolly, “If you don’t want any trouble tonight, then hand over your ‘Golden Scale Spear.’”

Zhao Jun’s expression grew even uglier. “Hand over the ‘Golden Scale Spear’? Are you joking? Do you know how valuable it is? It’s a weapon forged by a cultivator at the Integration Realm; not even a million lower-grade spirit stones could buy such a weapon.”

A greedy gleam flashed in Yang Hao’s eyes. “Of course I know how precious an Integration Realm weapon is. Why else would I ask for it?”

“Then there’s nothing more to discuss. Your demands are utterly absurd,” Zhao Bochao interjected coldly.

“Oh? So you’re choosing to make an enemy of the Yang family? Fine then! Brothers, break their arms and legs, and let their families pay ransom to get them back,” Yang Hao said viciously to his men.

“Brother Yang, isn’t that going a bit too far?” one of them asked hesitantly.

“What’s there to fear? The Yang family will back you up,” Yang Hao replied with arrogant confidence.

“Alright, since Brother Yang says so, we have nothing to worry about,” responded the others, who immediately surrounded Zhao Hong and his group.

A fierce glint appeared in Zhao Hong and his companions’ eyes. Since their opponents meant to cripple them, they would not hold back either.

Yang Hao stepped forward, his fists striking rapidly toward Zhao Hong. The sheer force of his blows shattered the table with a thunderous crash, sending food and wine scattering across the floor.

Without hesitation, Zhao Hong drew a dazzling golden spear from his storage pouch. A razor-sharp aura burst forth, piercing the ceiling of the private room.

Gripping the spear, Zhao Hong thrust at Yang Hao’s fists. A brilliant golden light shot out like an arrow, striking Yang Hao’s fists head-on.

With a resounding bang, Yang Hao was forced back by the spear’s deadly edge. Jealousy flashed across his face as he seethed inwardly: “Such a fine weapon, wasted in the hands of someone still at the Qi Gathering stage.”

Having repelled Yang Hao with one strike, Zhao Hong whirled to attack another foe. His spear surged forward like a golden dragon, shattering the long sword in the man’s hand.

By then, Yang Hao had drawn a pale green saber that radiated vibrant vitality. Gripping the blade with both hands, he slashed at Zhao Hong, unleashing a tremendous wave of saber energy toward Zhao Hong’s back.

Just as Zhao Hong was about to finish off the swordsman, he sensed a menacing force behind him. He spun around, raising his spear to parry.

The saber’s energy clashed violently against the spear with a metallic clang. Overwhelmed by Yang Hao’s powerful energy, Zhao Hong staggered backward. Only by driving the spear’s butt into the floor did he manage to halt his retreat before crashing into the wall.

He barely had a moment to catch his breath before the sharp saber light came slashing down again. Gritting his teeth, Zhao Hong poured all his strength into the spear, which blazed with dazzling light as it met the incoming strike.

With a deafening roar, the saber light shattered against the spear’s golden glow, but the green blade itself struck the shaft.

Sparks exploded as spear and saber collided, forcing both men back a step.

The impact left Zhao Hong coughing blood. Though his weapon was superior, his cultivation was three or four stages lower than Yang Hao’s—a gap impossible to bridge by weapon alone.

Seeing Zhao Hong cough up blood, Yang Hao’s face lit up with savage delight, as if he could already see himself seizing the golden spear.

He gathered all his strength and lunged forward, saber raised high to deliver a finishing blow.

With a furious cry, Zhao Hong summoned the last of his energy, channeling all his power into the spear. It erupted with blinding light as he thrust it forth in a desperate, do-or-die attack. The golden spear shot forward like a bolt of lightning to meet Yang Hao’s saber.

A thunderous explosion rocked the room, the shockwave shattering the private chamber’s walls. Guests in the adjoining rooms screamed and fled in panic, even the diners in the second-floor hall scrambled downstairs to avoid the fallout.

At the center of the collision, both men bore fresh wounds, blood seeping from their lips.

“Not bad, boy. With that ‘Golden Scale Spear,’ you’ve managed to fight me to a standstill. I have to admit, I’m impressed. But the next blow will shatter your bones and tendons,” Yang Hao declared, pouring all his energy into his saber.

The green blade hummed with a piercing note as a six-meter-long saber light shot forth, only to shrink and condense into a meter-long blade of pure, tangible force.

Yang Hao raised his saber and brought it crashing down on Zhao Hong. In a blink, the killing light was upon him.

Zhao Hong gave a bitter laugh; his energy was completely spent. All he could do was resist with everything he had left.

Suddenly, a golden fist tore through the air like a meteor, smashing mercilessly into the saber.

With a loud clang, the saber shattered in an instant, and Yang Hao was sent flying, coughing up blood.