Chapter 28: The Yellow Sand Palm Technique

A single victory on the Wind and Cloud Ranking carries immense weight, equivalent to winning twenty regular matches. If one does not wish to accumulate victories, they may freely exchange a win for an insight, deepening their own foundation.

No longer holding back, Du Gu Bieli swept through his opponents with thunderous force. After several matches, he finally reached two hundred and ten victories, meeting the requirements of the Wind and Cloud Arena and ascending to the rank of General.

A gentle, ethereal radiance, as fine as silk, as light as mist, descended from the heavens above, enveloping his entire body and nourishing him from the outside in.

His physique grew stronger. His battle prowess soared.

Once the transformation was complete, the difference in rank would vanish the next time he fought.

“What a comfortable sensation.” Adjusting to his new state, Du Gu Bieli adapted to the changes within. Power surged through him like wild stallions, roaring and galloping, matching the boiling of his blood with the swiftness of wind and thunder. This ascension was strikingly similar to a true breakthrough in cultivation.

“Finally, I am a General. Now, I should be able to enter the rankings. Next, I will continue to challenge!”

His brows arched with excitement, his eyes shone bright as he gazed at the names and rankings on the Wind and Cloud List. With a thought, he skipped past more than two hundred names and chose to challenge number seven hundred and fifty. His consciousness reached out at will.

The General he targeted was called Shang Yi, who had just gone through several battles himself. Relying on exceptional mastery of his family’s signature Palm of the Yellow Sands, he had achieved consecutive victories and secured his place. According to his background, he was a scion of a prominent family, practicing a hereditary technique known as Palm of the Yellow Sands.

Many, recognizing his strength, deliberately avoided challenging him, unwilling to court defeat and the mental blow of death—a setback that would require days to recover from.

Thus, Shang Yi was able to rest for a moment.

He was well aware that being listed on the Palace’s ranking would inevitably attract many challengers, so he fought each battle ruthlessly to intimidate others. The results were evident—at least a quarter of an hour had passed with no challengers.

He was secretly pleased, when suddenly his consciousness trembled—a voice inquired whether he would accept a challenge. Checking the challenger’s information, he saw only the codename 999, with the real name concealed. His heart skipped a beat.

Coming from a noble family, his knowledge exceeded that of the common man. He knew that only those with special Wind and Cloud Tokens could hide their true names. Anyone possessing such a token had an extraordinary background. Even he had never had the chance to obtain one.

“Who is this?”

Shang Yi hesitated, not out of fear, but weighing whether to continue his ruthless approach.

To be ranked seven hundred and fiftieth, his strength was considerable. Unless his opponent was a supreme prodigy or someone with extraordinary talent, he was confident in controlling the outcome—able to decide life or death with a single thought.

Yet, he had to consider the consequences: if he killed this person and incurred their wrath, not only could his own name be remembered, but his family might also be targeted for retribution in the real world—a price he could not afford.

Clearly, being born into a powerful family brought both advantages and disadvantages. These scions had to constantly weigh whom they could offend, trample, or bully, and whom they must never provoke. A single privileged Wind and Cloud Token was enough to trouble Shang Yi.

“Will you accept the challenge?” The voice continued to prompt in his consciousness.

“I accept!” Shang Yi’s mind turned swiftly. Where there is disadvantage, there is also benefit. Having pondered the risks, he realized that any encounter could be an opportunity for alliance—a victory or even a deliberate defeat could yield potential gains. Besides, he could always withdraw from the ranking and return later as a challenger to reclaim his position.

Du Gu Bieli, meanwhile, knew nothing of Shang Yi’s reasoning. As the challenge was announced, he was transported to an arena, facing Shang Yi.

Shang Yi was the outstanding figure of his generation in the Shang family—handsome as jade, with a tall, graceful bearing and refined demeanor. He had mastered the essence of the family’s Palm of the Yellow Sands at a young age, earning widespread acclaim. Gifted with both intelligence and charisma, he excelled at winning hearts and moving deftly through the social arena.

With influence, strength, looks, and wisdom, such a descendant was naturally groomed with great care by his family, his growth guided and swift. This, of course, had instilled in him a certain arrogance.

“Please,” Shang Yi said politely for the first time to the challenger, number 999.

Du Gu Bieli glanced at him, his gaze deep as if able to see into the soul, penetrating all thoughts and schemes. Shang Yi shivered involuntarily and lowered his head, not wishing his calculations to be exposed.

“Make your move,” Du Gu Bieli said, opening and closing his right hand, his mind commanding as a great blade appeared in his grip. As his arm swept downward, the blade shone cold and clear, its radiance rippling outward.

“This technique of mine is called Palm of the Yellow Sands. It was created by my ancestor, who, observing the vast primordial deserts, gained insight and passed it down to this day,” Shang Yi said, not attacking immediately but introducing his skill. Arms folded behind him, he spoke calmly, “I have practiced since childhood, refining my understanding until I grasped a portion of its essence. Within the General rank, I am somewhat renowned. Therefore, when I strike, do not underestimate me or be misled by appearances.”

Du Gu Bieli was momentarily puzzled, uncertain why Shang Yi would reveal his own weaknesses and warn his opponent. He replied noncommittally, “Very well, please begin.”

“Be careful.”

Having said enough, Shang Yi judged it time to act, gauging Du Gu Bieli’s expression lest delay provoke displeasure. Instantly, he spread his arms like a great roc unfurling its wings, each hand extending in opposite directions.

His body vibrated with power, momentum surging forth like a tempest beneath the heavens, sweeping across a boundless desert. Billowing clouds of sand rose, filling the sky and blotting out the sun. Within this maelstrom, direction was lost—north, south, east, west all blurred and indistinct.

With rapid steps, Shang Yi unleashed his technique, his attacks relentless. Both palms moved with the force of a storm, sweeping across the heavens and roaring like a caged beast unleashed.

Sand filled the air.

Stones flew.

Move after move, he fought with effortless grace, his true form hidden amid the swirling dust, elusive and ever-shifting. He seemed a sovereign of the world of sand, commanding legions with unchallenged might.

Hundreds of Generals had followed the commotion, witnessing their “senior” engulfed, his figure blurred, trapped and isolated. Their hearts leapt to their throats, so tense they forgot to even shout.

Yet Du Gu Bieli’s eyes gleamed. Amid the rolling sands, he moved easily, carefully tracking Shang Yi’s movements. Finding the contest intriguing, he sheathed his great blade.

“Whenever you have time, visit the Wind and Cloud Arena,” an elderly man declared arrogantly within a shimmering water curtain, before his figure faded and the curtain collapsed.

The Grand Dean gazed silently ahead for a long time. Wu Ying approached, sighed, and burst out angrily, “What a scoundrel! He’s deliberately mocking us. He knows our performance on the Wind and Cloud List falls short, with too few students ranked, and he’s here just to annoy us.”

“That’s the reality. Why be angry?” The Grand Dean looked at him calmly, then said softly, “Come, let’s enter the Wind and Cloud Arena.”

“My old friend…” Wu Ying murmured, his expression pained.

The Grand Dean rose, carefree as wind and cloud. “So there are fewer of our people on the list, and they wish to upset us face to face. What of it? Is this enough to break my spirit? Am I really so fragile in your eyes?”

“No… not at all…” Wu Ying stammered, embarrassed, rubbing his hands and struggling for words.

“Let’s go!”

With a thought, the Grand Dean entered first. Wu Ying took a deep breath and followed.

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