Chapter 193: Life on the Line

Translator: Tim Editor: Chrissy

Ye Mo knew he was caught, so there was no point in hiding. He stood up from behind the stone.

Although Bian Po knew someone was behind the stone, he was still surprised when Ye Mo emerged. He hadn’t expected Ye Mo to be so young; he looked to be just in his twenties.

“Where are you from?” Bian Po studied Ye Mo and asked. If the long-haired man hadn’t said he was following him, he might not have found Ye Mo. That long-haired guy was a fool—why follow from the front?

He had killed the other two quickly by exploiting their fear of earth-level masters. A real fight to the death would have been much harder, and he might not have won. But this youth had evaded those two, suggesting considerable strength. Moreover, Ye Mo’s youth shocked him.

Ye Mo compared Bian Po’s sword technique to that of the swordsman at the Ye Family mansion. He found Bian Po’s technique far superior.

He didn’t want to fight someone like him, and certainly not now. However, he knew Bian Po was after the Red Leaf Pumpkin Fruit; with Bian Po’s ruthlessness, he wouldn’t be let go.

“Would you believe me if I said I came to Shen Nong Jia for a holiday?” Ye Mo scanned the surroundings with his spirit sense. Escape was difficult; aside from one path down the mountain, it was all cliffs.

Bian Po smiled, his face expressionless. “I believe you, but it’s useless. Watch my sword.” As he spoke, his sword blurred into a gust of white, rushing towards Ye Mo. Even with his spirit sense, Ye Mo couldn’t track the sword’s trajectory.

Ye Mo’s face changed drastically. He twisted his body sharply to barely avoid the blade. It sliced into the ground where he’d been standing, leaving a deep mark. A direct hit would have cut him in half.

Ye Mo stood at the edge of the cliff, watching Bian Po while focusing his spirit sense on his wrist. He hadn’t expected a sneak attack. Still, Ye Mo wasn’t annoyed. In his view, any means were justified in a fight, as long as you won.

“Not bad, you dodged that,” Bian Po said, surprised but quickly regaining his composure. He attacked again.

Ye Mo focused on Bian Po’s movements. Seeing the attack, he realized his disadvantage without a weapon, especially against someone stronger. Even with equal power, victory would be difficult unarmed. His only thought was to find a chance to dash down the cliff.

This time, Bian Po’s seven strikes formed a continuous attack, sealing all escape routes.

Ye Mo casually produced Xian Daoist’s whip. He was sure that without his spirit sense, he would be dead. Even with it, many segments of the whip broke after this attack. The remaining piece was barely longer than Bian Po’s sword.

Xian Daoist’s whip was a decent weapon, but it was no match for Bian Po’s sword.

Without the whip, Ye Mo would likely have lost an arm. From the start, he had been on the defensive. His clothes were torn by the sword energy, and seven or eight slashes marred his body. It looked terrible.

However, Ye Mo knew this was only the first round. Bian Po was terrifying. Was the difference between levels really this vast? At Stage 2, he would be dead. Even now, he needed to find a way to survive.

Bian Po’s second round of attacks still failed to kill Ye Mo. He stopped, his eyes growing cold. He stared at Ye Mo for a moment before asking, “Just who are you? How did you survive seven consecutive strikes? And where did you get that whip? Speak.”

Ye Mo sneered. Although Bian Po was stronger, he had noticed something. When Xian Daoist’s whip broke, he’d found Bian Po’s weakness.

Bian Po must have just reached Earth Level; although his seven strikes were powerful, there were gaps between each attack. These gaps gave Ye Mo a small chance. Without them, even with the whip, he would have been killed.

“Stop wasting time. If you want to fight, then fight.” Ye Mo calmed his chi, quickly planning a surprise wind blade attack followed by an escape.

“Okay, let’s see how long you last.” Bian Po sneered. His long sword, glowing white, surged towards Ye Mo.

…

“Ning Qingxue, what are you looking at?” It was night. The tour guide noticed Ning Qingxue staring at a large rock in the distance.

“Look…” Ning Qingxue pointed, worried.

“Hm, two people fighting? Hallucinations at Shen Nong Jia? No, wait,” Cui Lin said. She saw two shadowy figures fighting, then separating.

“They’re fighting again.” Cui Lin had been a tour guide for several years but had never seen anything like this.

Cui Lin looked at Ning Qingxue. Ning Qingxue seemed focused on one figure, appearing quite excited.

Cui Lin didn’t mind, thinking, “If this were Wu Liang Mountain, I’d think it was a goddess practicing swordsmanship. This is fascinating; I’ll get everyone to see.”

Cui Lin went to call others.

Ning Qingxue, however, stared dumbly at the rock, her heart pounding. She felt one of them was Ye Mo—the movements and build matched the man of her dreams. Was she imagining things?

If she hadn’t seen it, she would have thought she was dreaming, or that her longing for Ye Mo had created an illusion.

Illusion? Ning Qingxue thought. Perhaps the sun was reflecting two people fighting?

The figures on the rock gradually faded and disappeared.

Ning Qingxue’s heart still pounded. She quickly took out her telescope. She was sure one of them was Ye Mo; she knew his figure so well.

Ning Qingxue was shocked. On a distant peak, two indistinct figures were fighting.

It’s real. Ye Mo, is that you? Why are you here? Ning Qingxue screamed in her heart. She longed to help him, even by throwing a stone, but the cliff was too far. The mist would obscure her view.

Ning Qingxue could only watch helplessly.

…

Although Ye Mo found ways to avoid the blade light, after the third round, he suffered more wounds. Besides a few whip strikes, he couldn’t mount a serious attack.

His whip was now just a handle. Blood trickled from his chest to his waist, soaking his pants.

Ye Mo’s face paled; he knew the next round could be fatal. Bian Po’s attacks were terrifying, and his defense was strong. After three rounds, Ye Mo couldn’t find an opening.

He knew he had only one chance.

Bian Po also breathed heavily. His clothes were also torn by Ye Mo’s whip. Several whip marks were clearly visible.

“You’re a strong opponent, but this time next year, you’ll be dead.” Bian Po ignored his minor wounds and attacked again.

Ye Mo suddenly threw the whip handle at Bian Po and leaped, as if jumping off a cliff.

“You’re asking to die.” Bian Po sneered, seeing Ye Mo’s desperate escape. His long sword became a white ray, striking at Ye Mo, ignoring the thrown handle.