Back when they encountered the horse bandit Luo Er on the mining route and Xiangzi couldn’t match him, he had asked Uncle Jie what to do against a stronger opponent.

Uncle Jie hesitated before replying firmly, “Show weakness to inflate their pride, then strike with a Turning Horse Spear.”

At the time, Xiangzi didn’t fully grasp it, nor did he take it to heart.

Now, he understood—Uncle Jie had already taught him this ultimate spear technique.

And at this moment, Uncle Jie was using his life to teach it one last time.

Heart pounding, Xiangzi gripped his spear, its hum resonating as he ignored the scattered mineral dust in the air. His dantian surged with blood and qi pushed to their limit, his figure blurring into afterimages.

The tiger demon bared its ferocious maw, its pale golden fangs like jagged saws.

To it, this middle-aged warrior was mere prey—it had no patience left for toying.

Just as it closed in on Uncle Jie—

In an instant, Uncle Jie’s dragging blade halted. He crouched slightly, his arm twisting at an eerie angle, thrusting backward—

His longsword pierced with lethal precision, like an unstoppable spear.

It aimed straight for the tiger demon’s sole remaining eye.

Man and beast collided.

Uncle Jie’s body was pierced through by a tiger claw, but his hand no longer held the blade.

Shlick! The longsword drove through the tiger’s last eye, unleashing a spray of pale golden blood.

A deafening wail followed, the tiger demon’s agony shaking the heavens.

Xiangzi surged forward, his spear dancing.

Its tip gleamed coldly, carving a bowl-sized wound into the tiger’s hide.

Calm and precise under the panel’s enhancement, Xiangzi targeted the beast’s old wounds.

His spear plunged into one, erupting in a burst of blood.

With a grunt of effort, Xiangzi yanked the spear free.

He stomped the ground, his body drifting like a leaf, flipping yards away.

Blinded and enraged, the tiger demon flailed its claws wildly, seeing nothing.

Xiangzi dragged his spear, its tip scraping the earth, sparking a line of fire.

The sound drew the beast.

Pain consumed its thoughts. Following the noise, it leaped toward Xiangzi with a press of its limbs.

Fury fueled its speed, its massive, mottled form blending into the night like a specter.

“Xiangzi, watch out!” Liu Tang staggered after him, blood-dripping sword in hand.

In that moment, the usually unflappable ninth-rank minor completion warrior’s pupils shrank, as if witnessing something unbelievable.

The wind carried Liu Tang’s voice.

A bead of sweat slid down Xiangzi’s forehead, his face stone-still.

Under the [Rickshaw Puller] panel’s boost, his feet gripped the earth, kicking up dust in the dark—his speed nearly matched the wounded tiger demon’s.

The stench of blood and heavy panting loomed behind him.

Without looking, Xiangzi felt the beast’s oppressive presence.

Its gaping maw, barbed tongue—ready to swallow him whole.

Xiangzi was like a frail yellow flower trembling in the wind.

Not close enough.

He silently urged himself—not close enough!

He slowed his pace.

As the beast’s fangs neared his body, Xiangzi ducked.

In mid-sprint, the crouch was awkward, yet eerily familiar.

Uncle Jie’s movements were etched in his mind.

Dodging the massive fang, Xiangzi’s arm thrust backward—

The spear trailing behind flipped at a strange angle.

Abruptly, Xiangzi halted, spear leading, body following.

The spear’s icy gleam shot toward the tiger’s maw.

Five Tigers Gate-Breaking Spear, thirteenth move—Turning Horse Spear!

This strike owed nothing to the panel, only to the memory seared into his soul.

In this obscure night, Xiangzi unleashed Uncle Jie’s ultimate technique for the first time.

Uncle Jie, lying on the ground, barely clinging to life, witnessed it.

A gaping hole pierced his chest.

It was unimaginable what willpower kept this middle-aged warrior alive.

Blood and flesh gushed from the wound, yet a warm smile graced his lips.

Liu Tang’s heart jolted, his sword-hand trembling.

Suddenly, Xiangzi’s figure vanished into the tiger’s maw.

The beast staggered, then let out a skyward howl—shrill, desolate.

It rolled and thrashed, desperate to expel the tiny warrior in its belly, but to no avail.

As the saying goes: Without entering the tiger’s den, how can you seize its cub?

For Xiangzi, without entering the tiger’s maw, how can you slay it?

The dust and clamor settled.

The scarred tiger demon reached its end.

Shlick! A sharp sound, like silk tearing or flesh splitting.

A gleaming spearhead sliced through the tiger’s belly.

Drenched in blood, Xiangzi emerged before Liu Tang.

Behind him, the tiger collapsed with a thunderous crash.

In the swirling dust, Xiangzi panted, flashing Liu Tang a grin.

Uncle Jie lay in Xiangzi’s arms.

Xiangzi stared at the hole in his chest, trying to stem the blood, but it seeped through his fingers.

“Xiang… Xiangzi, don’t waste time,” Uncle Jie rasped, his voice a thread.

Xiangzi said nothing, gazing silently at him.

The once-vibrant warrior now seemed so frail.

“Well done… I, Li Jie, didn’t misjudge you. That spear move… it’s better than mine.”

Uncle Jie smiled, his expression one of pride.

Liu Tang turned away, his sword trembling faintly.

Uncle Jie gripped Xiangzi’s hand, mustering his last strength. “Xiangzi, promise me one last thing.”

His voice was weak but resolute.

Xiangzi nodded firmly.

Uncle Jie stared at the towering youth, his mind drifting back months ago, to the first time he saw this clumsy lad under the locust tree at the east wing.

Back then, this fool couldn’t even hold a stance.

Those brief, vivid months flashed through Uncle Jie’s mind like a carousel.

The timid boy who quaked before a tiger demon had become a true man.

Uncle Jie smiled brightly—this fool’s my disciple.

With his final breath, he whispered, “Xiangzi… when this night’s done, go to the martial hall.”

“Don’t seek revenge…”

“Don’t!”