From Beast Abilities to Sect Grand Master

The banker shifted his eyes left and right, trying to see if there was a way out for him.

Lin Fan took a glance at Ho Ming.

He wanted to see what Ho Ming would do.

If he was that Ho Ming back in An Xiang village, the banker might get away with some sobbing and begging for his life.

To Lin Fan's relief, Ho Ming had grown.

Ho Ming drew one of his swords and put it next to the banker's neck.

"So, where are my contribution points?"

"I... eh... give me some time. I only have five hundred contribution points left with me," the banker, with his hands clasped together as if he was praying, pleaded for time.

"What about money? I could take that," Ho Ming said as he pressed his sword closer to the banker's neck.

"Ah, money. Yes, I have ten taels of silver to maybe cover for a hundred contribution points," the banker said, as he took out his wooden slab and some taels of silver.

Ho Ming took them and said, "Your deadline is until the end of the month. If you don't pay up by then, I will come for you."

"I definitely will. My name is Sima Lian, from the Sima family in Hong Feng city. Everyone knows my family's business there. So don't you worry."

Sima Lian looked at the disciples standing beside him, and they nodded their heads.

With confirmation from the other disciples, Ho Ming let Sima Lian off.

When Sima Lian was far away, Ho Ming let out a huge sigh.

Wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead, Ho Ming said, "Phew. Nearly thought I couldn't pull it off."

"Relax, there's always a first time," Lin Fan patted Ho Ming's back and said, "And dear senior martial brother, all my spending for the rest of the month will be on you."

"No problem. In fact, I should be giving you some of my earnings!" Ho Ming exclaimed in excitement when the fact that he had won finally sank in.

His trust and bet in Lin Fan had paid off.

And more than he could've imagined.

"No need. I've got five hundred contribution points myself. The village head would have good use for all the money," Lin Fan said.

"And if you really want to, maybe help repair my wooden hut in An Xiang village."

Lin Fan hated all the to-and-fro accepting gifts; he rather asked for it in a straightforward manner.

Ho Ming nodded as he knew Lin Fan was right about the village head needing money.

Getting the Ho family to the next level, that was his purpose of coming to Qing Feng sect.

As for Lin Fan's wooden hut, it would definitely be done.

...

Hall, upper floor.

"What a close match. I see your disciples are well trained."

Qing Yang Zi stroked his long beard as he commented on the result.

Clenching his fists, Low Qiang wasn't too happy.

He squinted his eyes and stared at Tan Fei.

The matches had ended, and he still hadn't given him the signal to go ahead and make a ruckus.

According to their plan, Tan Fei's man would then come out with Low Tian's head, making it irrefutable for Qing Feng sect.

Tan Fei was in no mood to care about Low Qiang.

He'd roughly known the outcome after waiting for so long.

His doubts were cleared when he heard a familiar voice.

"Sect master, how did my disciples perform?" Zhao Ming Ye came into the room with a wide grin.

"Come, Ming Ye, sit. Your disciples did well."

When Zhao Ming Ye sat down, he grinned and looked at Han Dang.

Han Dang just glanced at Tan Fei.

That's when it hit Tan Fei.

Zhao Ming Ye and Han Dang were putting on a show.

Making use of the fact that they were always at odds with each other to fool him that the mission was legitimate.

Tan Fei picked up the teacup in front of him and slowly sipped the tea.

He was running through all the different ways he could escape in his mind.

But he knew he had no chance; the sect master could kill him easily with his Void Fusion level.

"Now that Ming Ye is here, let's get on with the next agenda," Qing Yang Zi said.

Low Qiang slammed his hands on the table and said, "Yes, let's settle the rumor floating around once and for all. Did Qing Feng sect kill my brother!"

The other Storm Fist Thunder sect disciples immediately stood up and got ready for action.

"What do we have here? Senior martial brother, are you keeping all the good wine to yourself?"

Zhao Qing Ying's voice suddenly boomed in the air.

The Storm Fist Thunder sect's disciples felt their chests compressed, as if someone was pushing their ribcages and making them cave in.

Their shoulders felt an intense weight pushing down on them.

Plop.

All of them sat down, due to the intense pressure.

When Tan Fei saw Zhao Qing Ying, he knew he was done for.

Although Zhao Qing Ying looked like a drunkard old man, he knew what he was capable of.

A stage short to level up to the Great Ascension level.

And his suicide team most likely had been slain by him.

"Be serious and let Ming Ye do his work," Qing Yang Zi said.

Zhao Qing Ying shrugged and stepped aside, letting the disciples behind him into the room.

They carried with them an object wrapped in a yellow piece of cloth.

The cloth had scriptures written in red vermilion all over it.

Low Qiang looked closely at what the disciples were doing.

They took out demonic beast cores and placed them in the shape of Eight Trigrams.

Then they took out ink brushes with vermilion and drew formation patterns on the ground.

Finally, one of the disciples untied the knot on the yellow cloth, revealing what was inside it.

Low Tian's head.

"How dare you! Today shall be the day where either one of us perishes!"

The Storm Fist Thunder sect disciples cried out in anger when they saw Low Tian's head.