Chapter 29 – Mirror of the Past

Now that he was faced with the inevitability of this confrontation, Qin Yun wondered if he had gone too far.

His anger had faded, leaving only a stubborn resolve and a bitter taste. He stood by his words, but hated that it had come to this.

Ever since they had been stuck in that unfortunate incident, things had gone so wrong that he could hardly believe it.

Who was he kidding? Of course, he could believe it. It was his fault, after all. He had no one else to blame but himself for this. Had he kept his cool, they would probably be on their way back by now, and not stuck having to face that fool in seemingly deadly combat.

It was clear Ma Zhurong wanted him dead. He barely hid it. The fire in his eyes and the grin on his face were a dead giveaway. Qin Yun knew the fool wouldn’t rein in his blows and would come at him with everything he had.

Even if an elder was officiating over the duel, Ma Zhurong would blatantly go for the kill, claiming an accident if the worst were to happen.

Qin Yun glanced at his wife, a small tinge of guilt in his heart. He shouldn’t have been so harsh on her, but the sight of a Ma Zhurong, smugly in his face, had eroded most of his rationality.

He would have to apologize after this.

As for why Qin Yun hated Ma Zhurong, the answer was rather simple: his sight was a constant reminder of what he used to be, in his first life, before it was cut short.

He was a fool, blessed with talent, but too lazy to make good use of it. His parents were upper caste within the Commonwealth. Since he was young, he had everything he could have ever dreamed of without any effort.

If he had been ordinary, it might have been forgivable. But he was a prodigy, succeeding at everything without struggle, even blessed with good looks—just like Ma Zhurong.

It bred complacency and blindness. He drifted through life, indifferent to others, simply going through the motions.

In some ways, he hadn’t changed at all. Personality was stubborn, surviving even across lifetimes. He had only mellowed, matured, no longer flaunting privilege as he once did.

Unlike Ma Zhurong, who clung to privilege as if it were his very skin, unable to imagine life without it.

Qin Yun could clearly see why his sister wasn’t interested in him. For someone with drive, a goal in sight, people like him were pitiful.

That was why Qin Yun found himself drawn to Alex—Ria. She embodied everything he lacked: hard work, drive, stubborn resilience. In truth, she reminded him of his sister.

He saw exactly why Ma Zhurong was infatuated with her, and that only fueled his own resentment.

Ma Zhurong cared only for flaunting his superiority. His character was as shallow as a puddle.

He was a living mirror of the self Qin Yun longed to bury forever.

He cringed at the thought.

“Gentlemen,” Xiao Liuguang said, his tone sombre. The crowd could tell how reluctant he was to even be here. “I don’t mind you settling this with your fists. Strength has always been what cemented practitioners’ supremacy over their peers. It is the law of the land. However, one must also know when to apply that strength… What I mean to say is, you don’t have to do this.”

Even now, Xiao Liuguang tried to avert the fight, but one glance at Ma Zhurong’s face told him it was already set in stone.

Surrounding them, the crowd was getting amped up. They didn’t care that Qin Yun wasn’t a practitioner. It was well known that he had chosen the martial path.

Still, not a single one of them believed that Qin Yun could stand up to Ma Zhurong. They didn’t have a good grasp of what the martial path entailed, but how could he possibly match up to the genius of the Ma Clan?

To all, the outcome was a foregone conclusion—even Xiao Liuguang silently agreed.

He recognized Qin Yun’s hidden depths—his earlier feat with the fireball proved that much—but against the Ma Clan’s Ghost Flame, only a miracle could save him.

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Suddenly, Yun Jingfei could swear the elder next to her had frowned. It was just a moment, but it was unmistakable. Had something happened?

Unbeknownst to her, Xiao Liuguang was not the only Nascent Soul practitioner watching this duel with keen interest.

The elder sensed a half-dozen other divine wills observing from afar, some familiar, all intent.

There were two from the Ma Clan.

Naturally, the Ma Clan watched over Ma Zhurong. An elder’s gaze likely shadowed him at all times within Jin City. They would not risk their rising star.

Despite how peaceful Jin City seemed on the surface, the elders weren’t naive enough to think the other clans wouldn’t move against them.

Yet what truly startled Xiao Liuguang was sensing another divine will—one he hadn’t felt in ages, and one he shouldn’t have been able to sense at all.

Its owner was someone far beyond him, someone he should normally have been unable to even notice the divine will. The fact that he could meant the owner didn’t mind being seen observing.

Most astonishing of all, that powerful gaze was fixed not on Ma Zhurong, but on Qin Yun.

Had he overlooked something crucial about that youth?

“Finally,” Ma Zhurong said, grinning. “You’ll pay for what you’ve said!”

Qin Yun exhaled, resolve settling in his bones. He would see this through, no matter the cost.

“Enough chatter,” he said. “Can we get on with it? I’ve no interest to hear a maniacal monologue about what you’ll do to me, or hear you boast about yourself. I have places to be.”

Ma Zhurong’s eyes narrowed, his grin evaporated, and he lunged at Qin Yun in utter silence.

Usually, a practitioner wouldn’t be foolish enough to close the gap between himself and a martial artist. Ranged combat was one of the greatest advantages practitioners held over their more close-combat-oriented counterparts.