Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Stubborn

Everyone stood frozen, staring up at Tian Fu Base.

A land that housed millions was hoisted into the sky and carried toward Shan Cheng.

Even for Blue Star—already stepping into cultivation civilization—this was beyond belief.

Yun Lai’s face drained white.

Was this still a “gap”?

He’d been called a genius since childhood, but in this moment he felt smaller than dust.

Wen Zhao’s voice shook. “Chen Art is a battle art that only becomes possible in higher realms. It’s cast entirely through Starforce. At our level, we don’t even have the qualification to witness it. Our Starforce isn’t remotely enough to use it—let alone control it.”

She swallowed. “And no one has ever heard of someone using Chen Art within the Ten Seals realm. Not once. Not in all of history.”

For the first time, Wen Xing Ru was afraid.

She regretted coming to Blue Star.

Regretted trying to fight Shu Mu Ye.

One use of Chen Art made the insect sea feel like a joke.

Even if it grew ten times larger—could it stop him?

This man was invincible.

His reputation wasn’t exaggeration.

Then figures surged forward.

Bai Yuan and the others.

Tian Fu Base had been lifted ten meters. Sunlight vanished beneath its shadow, and the world below fell into darkness.

The more one understood Chen Art, the more terror tightened the throat.

But fear wasn’t a reason to step back.

“If we can abandon Tian Fu Base today,” someone shouted, voice hoarse, “then tomorrow we can abandon all of Blue Star!”

“This isn’t Hua Xia’s Bone Qi Method!”

“We were born stubborn!”

Wang Jie moved with them—Qing Zheng, Old Five, and Old Nine at his side.

He didn’t know why, but he felt strangely steady.

Even facing a dead end.

As if this—this moment—was why they existed at all.

They were stubborn.

All of them.

Shu Mu Ye held Tian Fu Base aloft with his left hand, looking down at the eleven charging toward him. His smile widened. “You’re more worth keeping alive than they are.”

He waved his right hand.

A hurricane erupted—an invisible lever prying at Blue Star itself. It slammed into Bai Yuan’s group and tore them from the ground, flinging them away.

The Jia Yi Divine Sword flashed—then was driven back, reversed by the sheer pressure.

But in the heart of that storm, a figure twisted through the air.

He stepped on the wind itself.

He drew his arm back—

And punched.

The boom was so violent it shook the world.

The hurricane ripped apart. Ripples spread through the air like shattered glass.

Shu Mu Ye’s eyes widened. He raised an arm to block, but the force drove him back—step after step.

His left hand trembled.

The Starforce supporting Tian Fu Base scattered.

Chen Art dissipated.

Tian Fu Base dropped.

Shu Mu Ye snapped backward, retreating fast.

The figure who’d struck him withdrew as well.

Tian Fu Base fell from ten meters up and smashed into the earth, denting the land and cracking it in every direction. Dust exploded into the sky, blotting out everything.

Silence.

Absolute, stunned silence.

Trialists. Blue Star cultivators. Even Mo.

All of them stared at the lone silhouette in the dust.

Shu Mu Ye—the man who could sweep armies aside with a gesture—had been driven back by a single punch?

Chen Art had been broken?

Who could do that?

Shu Mu Ye waved the dust aside, then slowly turned his head. His eyes gleamed—excitement flickering where cold certainty had lived.

He had been pushed back.

Outside of those few monsters in the universe, there was someone else.

Interesting.

On a native world destined for sacrifice, there was a man like this.

Wang Jie stood in the drifting dust, back narrow, body steaming with heat.

Sixty times strength.

Just yesterday, he’d done his exercises again. His strength had climbed—yet the gains were shrinking, inching toward a limit that might not even reach seventy.

He’d expected that punch to injure Shu Mu Ye.

It only pushed him back.

Shu Mu Ye was Eighth Seal.

No matter what his identity was, no matter what monstrous talent he carried—right now, he was still Eighth Seal.

And he had taken Wang Jie’s sixty-times punch head-on.

A monster.

Wang Jie walked forward.

Shu Mu Ye walked toward him through the thinning dust.

Everyone else—Wen Xing Ru, Bai Yuan, the Trialists—found themselves moving too, drawn along like they’d been earlier on the wall, following the gravity of those two.

When the dust finally cleared, Shu Mu Ye and Wang Jie faced each other from a thousand meters apart.

Shu Mu Ye studied him, admiration plain. “So it was you. You were present last time—but you didn’t act.”

Wang Jie’s voice stayed even. “I was observing.”

Yun Lai’s expression twitched in the distance, as if the words physically pained him.

Shu Mu Ye chuckled. “And what did you observe?”

“I can’t beat you,” Wang Jie said.

Shu Mu Ye looked genuinely surprised. “You want to beat me?”

“What else would I want?”

Shu Mu Ye laughed—loud and delighted. “Do you know the universe? No one dares say that at a time like this. Jia Yi Sect. The Third Zen Heaven. Even me—Cheng Yi Dao. No one dares.”

Wang Jie flexed his fingers; faint cracks sounded from his joints. “Saying it costs me nothing.”

Shu Mu Ye pointed toward the distant crowd. “Ask them. Should my opponent be one man—or a crowd?”

Wang Jie’s gaze didn’t flicker. “Doesn’t matter. Right now, your opponent is only me.”

Shu Mu Ye’s eyes brightened. “You’re from Blue Star?”

“Born and raised.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

“There are always monsters,” Wang Jie said.

Shu Mu Ye smiled. “I like you. Strike, then. Show me how you plan to beat me.”

The Trialists watched, unsettled.

Anyone who understood Shu Mu Ye’s pride knew what this meant.

They were being ignored outright.

Yet this native stood here speaking to Shu Mu Ye as an equal.

Wang Jie’s hands were slick with blood. His arms were barely responsive. Only his fingers still moved with any ease—he’d pushed himself to the edge.

He looked up at Shu Mu Ye, expression steady.

Shu Mu Ye’s smile turned approving. “I didn’t think anyone in my realm could push me back during my third rebuild.”

His eyes held a rare sincerity.

“Wang Jie,” he said, tasting the name. “I acknowledge you.”

Then he lifted his chin.

“You can come with me.”