Chapter 336

Chapter 336: You’re Not Worthy

A piece of news spread through the universe like a shockwave.

The technique Ting Chen cultivated was called Guang Yin San Jie.

Someone found the name in ancient texts. When the corresponding records were dug up, the entire era trembled.

The present age looked prosperous—sects everywhere, experts rising in waves—but compared to the ancient records, it was clearly inferior.

History had suffered a break.

Above that break lay an era with a name that was both simple and terrifying:

Star Position.

Very little remained from the Star Position era, as if a catastrophe had cut it off and swallowed every trace.

The current age had spent endless years scavenging for fragments.

Among those fragments was a term that survived like a scar: Star Position.

Star Position was the title of the strongest beings of that era.

No one knew how many there had been. They only knew that even Little Small-World Realm experts weren’t qualified to be called Star Positions.

And Little Small-World Realm experts were already the peak of the current age.

Perhaps there were existences beyond that—but they stayed hidden.

The fact that Star Positions had left legends behind meant that, in that era, beings beyond the Little Small-World Realm were not some secret myth.

It also proved, from another angle, just how far that era had surpassed the present.

Among the Star Positions recorded, one name stood out like a brand burned into time itself:

Time-Walking Star Seat.

And the technique passed down from that ancient powerhouse was Guang Yin San Jie.

Which meant Ting Chen’s inheritance traced back to a being beyond the Little Small-World Realm—an ancient monster from a lost age.

The moment that rumor spread, Ting Chen’s odds became nearly absolute.

No one spoke of Wang Jie’s chances anymore.

Ting Chen’s identity spread with it: the Star Vault Vista’s eldest miss.

Praise flooded the stars.

Her popularity surged beyond reach.

Wang Jie, meanwhile, gained no new legends. No one even bothered insulting him. Standing beside Ting Chen now, he simply had no light left to shine.

In Black-White Heaven, Wang Jie knew none of it.

He didn’t need to.

He waited quietly for dawn.

—

When the light screen rose, the entire universe held its breath.

On the arena, Wang Jie and Ting Chen stood facing each other.

Only one day had passed, yet Ting Chen’s gaze had changed completely.

It was no longer calm, no longer contained.

Now it carried anger—and disdain.

Wang Jie’s heart sank.

He’d been exposed.

If his cheapskate master’s enemies could trace him, then the Star Vault Vista could trace him faster.

Silence stretched between them.

Then the barrier vanished.

The final battle began.

Ting Chen raised her hand at once, eyes locked on Wang Jie. Her voice was ice. “After this fight, never appear before us sisters again.”

“You’re not worthy.”

Her fingers curled.

The crowd sharpened.

That move again.

Wu Ming had vomited blood three times under it, helpless to resist.

The instant Ting Chen moved, Wang Jie dispersed his aura.

No defense. No preparation.

He charged like an ordinary man.

In the next heartbeat, a twisting force crushed through him—like the void itself folding around his body.

Now he understood what Wu Ming had felt.

There was no warning. No visible strike. Only sudden, incomprehensible destruction.

His organs felt as if they’d been clenched into pulp. Blood burst from his mouth.

No one was surprised.

No one could block it.

This was a Star Position technique.

But Wang Jie only staggered, caught himself, and kept coming. “Whether I’m worthy isn’t for you to decide.”

“I’m still coming for you.”

Ting Chen’s eyes narrowed. “Courting death.”

She struck again.

Blood sprayed again.

This time he paused only for a fraction of a second—then continued forward.

He still wasn’t fast.

He didn’t use footwork.

He didn’t use lockforce.

He’d replayed Wu Ming’s three vomits of blood in his mind all night.

There was no technique without a flaw.

If Ting Chen’s strength didn’t change, then the difference had to be in Wu Ming himself.

Wu Ming couldn’t defend against that strike. So why had he been hurt worse each time?

Because his defense got stronger.

The stronger the defense, the heavier the backlash.

So Wang Jie tested it.

He dropped his guard and let Ting Chen strike him head-on.

He was hurt—but less than he’d expected.

That first hit had still been cautious. He hadn’t dared to let go completely.

The second hit was different. He let go entirely.

He still bled.

But less than the first time.

Ting Chen wasn’t holding back.

Which meant he was right.

Her move couldn’t be cracked.

But it could be endured.

Ting Chen’s expression flickered—not disbelief, but something sharper.

As Wang Jie closed in, she stepped back.

Her first retreat.

The crowd erupted in shock.

That impossible power… was being tanked.

Was Wang Jie’s defense truly that terrifying?

At Reverse-Delusion Mountain, Wu Ming stared at the screen, eyes heavy.

He had only figured it out after returning.

Wang Jie’s approach meant he had figured it out too.

Did he realize it on his own?

Or had someone taught him?

Wu Ming believed it was the first.

“Guang Yin San Jie,” someone murmured. “Ancient records say the first tribulation is Tracing Shadow. The principle wasn’t recorded, but to endure it you only need to drop your guard. For Wang Jie to do this, it must be guidance from his star dao master.”

“Not necessarily,” another voice countered. “Back in the Blue Star trial, this kid defeated Shu Mu Ye. He’s gifted.”

“It’s a pity our Jia Yi Sect didn’t see through the fact he wasn’t dead. Otherwise, our sect would be represented now.”

In Black-White Heaven, Zhi Yu looked toward Shu Rang. “Did you teach him?”

Shu Rang laughed. “Of course not. If he needed me to teach him that, how would he ever finish the mission?”

Zhi Yu shook his head. “This girl has Guang Yin San Jie, and you still expect him to finish that task?”

“The deeper you go, the wider the gap between lockforce cultivators and starforce cultivators.”

“He reached this point in the Full-Star Tournament—he can even glimpse the crown. But the Wandering-Star Tournament is different. It’s another world entirely.”

“All those peers he crossed blades with will grow stronger. Some will transform.”

“And the geniuses who’ve been holding their breath to enter the Wandering-Star Tournament… their targets are the Four Great Wandering Gods.”

Shu Rang rolled his eyes. “So what? We’ll take it one step at a time.”

“My disciple can do what others can’t.”

—

On the arena, Wang Jie threw a punch.

No lockforce. No qi. No technique.

Just the raw power of his body.

Ting Chen tried Tracing Shadow again.

Wang Jie didn’t even flinch.

The punch continued forward, unbroken.

So it really worked.

Ting Chen’s eyes flickered. “Interesting.”

She struck with a palm.

A sharp crack rang out as her force met his fist.

Wang Jie was driven back step after step, his hand trembling.

Ting Chen didn’t move at all.

Her brows lifted slightly in surprise. What kind of strength was this? Was he a human-shaped feral beast?

“No wonder Wu Ming said that,” Wang Jie murmured, flexing his fingers.

In that exchange, Ting Chen had struck twice.

Two identical palm forces: the first stopped his punch, the second knocked him back—sending his blood and qi into a violent churn.

Yet to the crowd, it looked like a single palm.

A bizarre, elegant brutality.

Ting Chen’s voice was flat. “You won’t win like this.”

“You’ll have to endure it.”

Wang Jie nodded. “True.”

“But even if I have to endure it, I’ll do it step by step.”

He lifted a hand.

Rain fell.

Rain Sword Art.

Six swords rose behind him and hovered like hungry shadows.

Ting Chen’s fingers moved again.

The invisible distortion slammed into Wang Jie. Blood surged up his throat—far worse than before.

So the moment he used lockforce, the backlash grew heavier.

Sword qi flooded the arena, slashing at Ting Chen in endless waves.

Ting Chen raised her eyes.

One pupil black, one white.

She moved through the rain without a drop touching her—gliding, untouched, unhurried.

No matter how the sword qi blanketed the arena, it couldn’t graze her.

Even Gui Xiao Die had struggled more than this.

And with each step she took, she struck again.

Wang Jie endured. Again and again.

Blood painted the arena.

Still he did not fall.

At first his eyes tracked her relentlessly.

Then, slowly, he closed them.

Ting Chen swept close. With a light tap, she parted the rain, borrowed force, and redirected sword qi back toward him.

Wang Jie’s eyes snapped open. He flicked a finger—force burst outward and shattered the returning blade-wind.

Then he stepped forward.

Ting Chen struck.

And for the first time, disbelief cracked her composure.

It failed.

Her Tracing Shadow… failed.

Wang Jie moved again, his steps crooked and wild.

Deep in the starry sky, Qing Huan’s jaw dropped. “That’s Madman Footwork…?”

Did this little kid actually comprehend it?

In Black-White Heaven, Shu Rang’s gaze turned complicated.

Wang Jie hadn’t fully comprehended the footwork—but he had seen the truth.

Tracing Shadow wasn’t twisting light.

It was twisting shadows to twist time.

Every time Ting Chen struck him, his shadow warped first.

A shadow came from the self. If the shadow warped, then what was being warped wasn’t the shadow.

It was time itself.

Guang Yin San Jie.

So that was it.

He couldn’t fight time head-on.

So he tried Madman Footwork.

Qing Huan had once said it might let him touch space-time.

He didn’t want to step into it.

But if he could brush against it… maybe he could disturb Guang Yin San Jie.

And he had.

Ting Chen struck—and he wasn’t affected.

Wang Jie’s eyes sharpened.

Now it was simple.

He surged forward on Madman Footwork.

Qi-Qi Convergence roared through him.

He threw a punch.

Ting Chen met him head-on, black-and-white eyes cold and absolute.

To outsiders, it looked like two figures charging toward collision—one like a blazing storm, one like a drifting wisp.

Then—

Wang Jie’s punch hit nothing.

A palm landed squarely on his chest.

His body flew sideways and slammed into the arena.

Blood burst from his mouth.

Wang Jie stared, stunned.

What… was that?