Chapter 22: The Challenge
"A concubine-born daughter is a concubine-born daughter. You can change your name and your status, but can you change your bloodline? Just because a daughter born to a concubine gets a new name and identity, does that mean she is no longer the daughter of a concubine?"
Zhao Erdong held her head high, looking down at Zhao Erqin and the group of half-siblings before her with disdain. Every gesture she made exuded an innate sense of nobility.
"You—are—courting—death!" Zhao Erqin was trembling with rage, nearly biting through her teeth. Since birth, even though she was a concubine's daughter, her clothing, food, and daily expenses had always matched those of a legitimate daughter. Not a single servant in the household dared to look at her with contempt. If not for the existence of Zhao Erdong, she would have long forgotten her own station.
"You are mistaken. I, Zhao Erdong, am willing to seek many things, but courting death is not one of them." Zhao Erdong smiled brightly, though the chill in her eyes did not dissipate in the slightest.
A flash of malice crossed Zhao Erqin's face. She flicked her hand and lunged at Zhao Erdong, her movements swift and ferocious, aiming directly at the crown of Zhao Erdong’s head.
The acupoint at the crown is the most vulnerable part of the human body; if one wishes to kill with a single blow, attacking the spirit gate is the best choice. Clearly, Zhao Erqin had no intention of letting Zhao Erdong live.
Zhao Erdong let out a cold snort. With a light tap of her toes, she retreated rapidly, easily dodging the lethal strike.
Zhao Erqin narrowed her beautiful eyes and shrieked, "You—you have been cultivating? You can actually cultivate?" If she hadn't been cultivating, how could she have dodged a fatal blow?
"What? In the Great Yue Kingdom, is only Zhao Erqin allowed to cultivate, and not Zhao Erdong?"
Zhao Erqin shook her head. "Impossible. You are clearly a waste; you have no innate spiritual power. It is absolutely impossible for you to cultivate."
A waste?
Zhao Erdong sneered. She slid her feet, darted in front of Zhao Erqin in a flash, and swung her hand to land a fierce slap across Zhao Erqin's face. "How about that? How does it feel to be struck by a 'waste'?"
Zhao Erqin stood stunned on the spot. She felt a blur before her eyes, followed by a crisp "crack," and then a searing, fiery pain on her cheek. She reached up to touch her face; it was stinging and already red and swollen.
She had actually been slapped? Slapped by a waste who had spent her whole life under her feet? Zhao Erqin was sixteen years old—when had she ever been slapped before?
Rage surged like a tidal wave. Zhao Erqin’s mind held only one thought: kill Zhao Erdong, kill Zhao Erdong.
Glaring viciously at Zhao Erdong, Zhao Erqin raised her hands to her chest, forming complex hand seals, and shouted, "Mountain-Splitting Palm!"
A palm imprint shot out from Zhao Erqin’s palm, surging toward Zhao Erdong.
The Mountain-Splitting Palm was a secret technique unique to the Zhao clan. It was formidable in its attack power and consisted of six levels. At Zhao Erqin's current rank, she had only just begun to master the basics, yet even so, the power was not to be underestimated.
The intense pressure bore down on Zhao Erdong. Not daring to take the hit head-on, she scrambled to dodge. The ancient texts she possessed contained only cultivation methods, not offensive skills. At this moment, she was like a bull with immense strength but no idea how to channel or utilize it.
Zhao Erqin’s beautiful face had twisted into a hideous mask, her entire being shrouded in endless killing intent. "You wretched girl, go join your pathetic mother!" Her palm strikes grew increasingly fierce, chasing Zhao Erdong around the room.
"Damn it," Zhao Erdong cursed under her breath. She had intended to test her own abilities but had forgotten that she had yet to learn any offensive techniques. The spiritual energy surging within her could not be channeled, leaving her to be chased around by this wretched girl.