Chapter 131: The Struggle

Seeing that Che Wuyou remained silent, Yang Yu sneered and began to close in on him slowly. As Yang Yu moved, the crowd seemed to be pulled along with him, inching closer to Che Wuyou. Many among them were secretly hoping to fish in troubled waters. Setting aside the fact that the difficulty of entering the third level was unimaginably high, if they could secure treasure worth forty kilograms of medium-grade essence stones right here, what did it matter if they gave up on the rest of the trial?

Watching the slow but inexorable approach of the crowd, Che Wuyou finally stopped. What was he to do? Should he really hand over the treasures he had worked so hard to find? If he gave them up, there would be no hope of awakening Zhang Qing’er and Yun Fan. But if he didn't, they would lose their lives instantly. It seemed that handing them over offered at least a glimmer of hope, while refusing meant certain death.

Che Wuyou struggled internally. His face was ashen, and he tried his best to hide his agitation from the others. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at the approaching Yang Yu, saying coldly, "Yang Yu, do you really think that stuff is mine? You are such a ******* idiot. Don't you think about it? Such precious treasures—who else could possess them besides someone as incredibly lucky as Yun Fan?"

At Che Wuyou’s words, Yang Yu’s footsteps faltered for a heartbeat, and the pace of the others slowed as well. Yet, driven by the allure of such valuable treasures, and having already witnessed Yun Fan’s prowess—holding his own in a clash with Yang Shi—they weren't about to be scared off by a few words. To do so would be to lose face, and they were far from willing to walk away empty-handed.

"Hmph, I know a piece of trash like you couldn't possibly possess so many treasures," Yang Yu scoffed. "Only someone like Yun Fan, who is accustomed to having such incredible luck, could have them. But even if they are Yun Fan's, so what? Not only am I going to cripple you today, but if Yun Fan doesn't have the means to protect his belongings, I’ll gladly keep them safe for him."

Yang Yu knew that since Yun Fan had managed to secure a Qiankun bag worth twenty kilograms of medium-grade essence stones on the first level, it was entirely plausible and reasonable for him to have obtained another twenty on the second.

Yang Yu’s words were, in part, a probe. While he didn't know what trickery was afoot or why Yun Fan was being dragged along by Che Wuyou, he could sense that Yun Fan was in a very bad state. Besides, even if Yun Fan were uninjured, he wasn't afraid of him. If Yun Fan were truly injured, that would be even better—it would save him the trouble of a difficult fight.

Che Wuyou knew it would be hard to stall the crowd with just words, especially since Yun Fan hadn't shown any remarkable combat feats other than that one exchange with Yang Shi. But he hadn't expected his words to backfire and ignite Yang Yu’s combative spirit. It made sense; Yang Yu was arrogant by nature, and seeing Yun Fan in this state, how could he miss the chance to establish his dominance?

The others, who had been somewhat wary of Yun Fan, felt their courage bolstered by Yang Yu’s declaration. Someone had already taken the lead; if anything happened later, could Yun Fan really make enemies of everyone? And even if he wanted to, wasn't Yang Yu there to stand in his way?

"Exactly! We haven't even seen what Yun Fan can do. If he’s skilled enough to earn forty kilograms of medium-grade essence stones, he should show us what he's got and prove if he has the means to keep them," someone in the crowd shouted.

Hearing the clamor and the rapidly approaching crowd, Che Wuyou’s palms grew slick with sweat. What to do? Should he really hand it over? Would Yang Yu even let them go if he did?

He had no choice but to use his final tactic—a desperate gamble to find life in the face of death. If this failed, the worst that could happen was that he would join Yun Fan in death, keeping him company on the road to the afterlife so he wouldn't have to walk it alone.

Having made up his mind, Che Wuyou pulled his right hand back slightly, then thrust it under Yun Fan’s arm, grabbing the hilt of the bladeless sword in Yun Fan’s embrace. He shouted, "Yun Fan, wake up! Someone is coming to steal your treasure! Wake up!"

As he shouted, Che Wuyou stared at Yun Fan, his hair standing on end. He vividly remembered that ferocious kick of Yun Fan’s. His heart was a complicated mess—he feared another brutal kick, but he feared even more that this ruse would fail, leaving the three of them with nowhere to hide.

Clutching the bladeless sword, Che Wuyou watched the rapidly approaching Yang Yu and, in a sudden, violent motion, hurled both the sword and Yun Fan’s body toward him. "You want the treasure? Then take it all!" As Yun Fan’s body flew through the air, the purple-red characters above his head—"FORTY KILOGRAMS OF MEDIUM-GRADE ESSENCE STONES"—flew with him. Stimulated by the glaring text, many in the crowd surged toward Yun Fan, sensing their opportunity.

Yang Yu watched the body flying toward him, sparing a contemptuous glance at Che Wuyou. The kid knew how to beg for mercy now, but it was too late. Once he had the treasure, he would still cripple Che Wuyou. However, Yang Yu didn't rush in immediately; he was still wary of Yun Fan, knowing his brother’s formidable reputation—his close-quarters combat skills were far superior to his own.

But seeing the crowd rushing toward Yun Fan, Yang Yu couldn't hold back. A severely injured man, no matter how good at close combat, couldn't possibly defy the heavens, could he? Yang Yu unleashed the speed he took such pride in—a speed that ranked in the top three among the younger generation of the Yang family. He quickly pulled ahead of the crowd, bolting straight toward Yun Fan.

Yang Yu’s hand finally touched Yun Fan’s chest, but he remained on high alert. Yun Fan was no ordinary man. *Eh? I touched something. What is it? It feels like metal. Right, that massive sword on his chest. I caught a glimpse of it from afar; it looks familiar...*

Before Yang Yu could think further, he felt a fist rapidly enlarging in his field of vision. He instinctively tried to dodge, but his speed seemed useless against the incoming blow. Then, the fist made intimate contact with his face. Yang Yu felt the world shift again, dissolving into the same hazy, fiery red it had been when he first arrived.