Chapter 3791 — Long in the Making
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 3
If it had been the Qiao Hongcai of before, still at the peak of the Heaven stage, Meng Zhou's wish to kill him would have been merely a whim born of listening to Meng Jue Ming; in his heart he had never truly taken the man seriously. But now that he had discovered this good-for-nothing had actually established his Foundation, everything was different.
To Meng Zhou, a Qiao Hongcai at the peak of the Heaven stage and a Qiao Hongcai in the early Foundation stage were two entirely different things. The former could be trampled at will; the latter must be schemed against and done away with at the first opportunity, for a long night breeds many dreams, and at the same level, one wrong step and the fellow might well turn the tables on him!
"I don't think there's any trouble. Senior Brother Ku, let's watch a while longer—Hongcai isn't so easily finished off." Wei Zhao only smiled faintly, not a trace of worry on his face.
Had Qiao Hongcai failed in his attempt to establish his Foundation, then perhaps he would have worried. But Qiao Hongcai was, after all, now a capable hand of the early Foundation stage; even gravely wounded, he would not be easy for Meng Zhou to kill, and so long as he did not die on the spot, no matter how badly hurt, Wei Zhao was confident he could have him healed in short order. There was simply nothing to worry about.
Besides, though the scene before them made it look as if Qiao Hongcai was badly injured and Meng Zhou held the absolute upper hand—was that really so?
At least in Wei Zhao's eyes, far from it.
Sure enough, Wei Zhao had scarcely finished speaking when Qiao Hongcai suddenly opened his mouth on the stage: "Senior newcomer Meng, do you really think that's enough to win for certain?"
"Huh? What kind of idiot question is that? Qiao, you worthless thing, have you been kicked simple, or what? Don't tell me you still think you can snatch victory from defeat?"
Meng Zhou laughed heartily. Even now the sole of his foot was still planted firmly on Qiao Hongcai's chest; one little push and he could make Qiao Hongcai keep spewing blood, and one could even hear the crack-crack of breaking breastbone!
"Snatch victory from defeat?" Qiao Hongcai's face was ashen, his mouth full of blood, and then he laughed, his face suddenly savage: "I've never been defeated, so what the hell are you talking about, snatching victory from defeat? But you've reminded me of something, Senior newcomer Meng—rest easy, I won't leave you that kind of chance!"
Meng Zhou was struck dumb for a moment, and when he came to his senses he was just about to open his mouth and mock, only to find he no longer had the chance at all—because Qiao Hongcai had suddenly struck.
Bang! Quicker than the eye could follow, Qiao Hongcai at last lashed out with the Iron Cold Palm, Twenty-One Forms, which he had been gathering all this time. And Meng Zhou was utterly unprepared—one leg still planted against his chest, he was a living, breathing target, and it was already too late to run.
The Iron Cold Palm was admittedly a martial art everyone dismissed as useless, so clumsy it generally could not hit anyone—but once it did land on a man, it could truly be the death of him.
The palm struck home, and there came a sound of bones cracking and shifting that made every scalp in the crowd prickle. Amid a chorus of incredulous gasps, Meng Zhou's whole body was sent flying backward, crashing down at the very edge of the platform, a bloody, mangled, pitiful wreck.
Even a crafty old schemer like Meng Jue Ming could not help but suck in a cold breath at the sight, murmuring over and over: "This good-for-nothing Qiao—he's really got a vicious streak!"
Anyone could see that Qiao Hongcai's palm had been long in the making. If in the first exchange Meng Zhou had merely been careless and contemptuous and got taken in by a trick, then this exchange now was where his true strength truly showed.