Auxiliary Women's Strategy: A Virtuous Wife Helps the King to Rule the World

Inside the arena, the tense atmosphere hung like a thick, oppressive haze, making it almost suffocating. Fierce battles between disciples from various sects filled the air with a thick, pungent smell. Each match was a thrilling, life-or-death struggle. Masters from all factions poured their energies into displaying their unique skills and techniques without reservation. Their eyes burned with fervent fighting spirit, and every movement was filled with power and determination. They all yearned to distinguish themselves in this competition and win glory and honor for their respective sects.

After round after round of competition, the disciples of the Black Feather Palace experienced mixed results, leaving the overall situation uncertain. The victorious disciples beamed with pride, while the defeated ones expressed frustration and resignation. Yet, their eyes still shone with determination, ready to learn from the experience gained from watching the subsequent matches and offer support and encouragement to their fellow disciples. Each victory or defeat was like a hammer, hammering down upon the hearts of the Black Feather Palace. Amidst tension and anticipation, they anxiously awaited the next round of challenges and breakthroughs.

In this tense atmosphere, the competition came to an end. According to the final points, some rewards were also distributed. The rewards were nothing more than some elixirs, spiritual weapons, etc. Finally, the host invited several masters who led their teams to show their skills, on the one hand to broaden the horizons of the younger generation, and on the other hand to show the strength of their own sects.

Mo Shang sneered and glanced back at Mo Yu and Su Nan, as if to say, "The show is about to begin!"

……

Mo Shang took the stage. With steady, powerful strides, he approached the ring. His posture was as straight and tall as a pine tree, each step carrying a force unwavering, yet as light as a breeze. His resolute face betrayed neither fear nor hesitation, but rather a calm and composed expression, as if this competition was nothing but a daily routine. His gaze was firm and piercing, like the brightest star in the night sky, capable of piercing all darkness and fog, leaving no room for direct gaze. His appearance instantly captivated the entire arena, and the previously bustling arena fell silent, leaving only the heavy, rapid breathing of the crowd and the occasional rustle of the wind.

Mo Shang's opponent this time was Leng Ying of the Phantom Pavilion. Renowned in the martial arts world for his unpredictable movements and ruthless attacks, Leng Ying was a feared and formidable figure. Clad in a black bodysuit that seemed to blend seamlessly with his form, Leng Ying only emphasized his ghostly agility. His face was stern, and his narrow eyes shone with a cold, ruthless aura, as if he had only eyes for victory and slaughter. When he saw Mo Shang approach the ring, his lips curled up slightly in a scornful, disdainful smile, and he whispered, "Mo Shang, today I'll show you the true power of the Phantom Pavilion!" His voice seemed to emanate from the depths of hell, carrying a chilling chill and an endless challenge.

Mo Shang was not moved at all. There was no expression on his face. He just responded lightly: "Then come on." His voice was calm and steady, but it contained an indescribable majesty and confidence, as if he had already won.

With the referee's command, the competition officially began. Leng Ying's figure flashed and vanished instantly, leaving only a dark figure on the stage, elusive and unpredictable like a ghost, its exact position and whereabouts difficult to grasp. His speed was so swift that it was almost impossible to capture with the naked eye, leaving only a series of blurry afterimages that were dazzling.

Yet, Mo Shang remained remarkably calm. He slowly closed his eyes, shutting out all external distractions and concentrating entirely on capturing Leng Ying's presence with his powerful senses. His mind was completely absorbed in sensing the subtle changes in the surrounding air currents, acutely aware of even the smallest fluctuations. He carefully listened to every subtle sound carried by the wind, sensing every shift in the airflow, trying to pinpoint Leng Ying's location and movements.

Just as Leng Ying, seemingly unnoticed, appeared behind Mo Shang, ready to launch a fatal sneak attack, Mo Shang, as if with eyes on his back, spun abruptly and unleashed a palm strike without hesitation. This seemingly simple and casual strike, in reality, contained immense internal energy and exquisite technique. The palm wind roared out like a surging wave, carrying unstoppable momentum, forcing Leng Ying back several steps. Wherever the palm wind passed, the air ripped apart, emitting a sharp, piercing cry, as if protesting the devastating force.

Leng Ying was horrified. He had never imagined Mo Shang's perception was so sharp, able to so easily see through his carefully planned sneak attack. A flicker of panic and unease flashed through his mind, but as a master of the Phantom Pavilion, he quickly suppressed his fear and anxiety, regrouping and preparing to attack again. He unleashed his acrobatic skills once again, transforming into countless phantoms that launched a torrent of attacks at Mo Shang from all directions and angles. For a moment, the arena was thick with shadows, making it impossible to distinguish between the real and the fake. It was impossible to tell which was Leng Ying's true form, as if he had become a million forms, omnipresent.

Mo Shang remained unfazed. Unleashing the Black Feather Palace's unique skills, his movements were lightning-fast, his moves fierce and swift. Each movement was clean and precise, seamless, imbued with power and beauty. His punches were powerful and relentless, each one accompanied by a whirring sound, as if capable of shattering the very air and destroying any obstacle before him. His kicks were agile and varied, like a dragon emerging from the sea, majestic and powerful. Each kick unleashed a gust of wind powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks. Mo Shang's figure darted across the ring with ease, intertwining with Leng Ying's phantom form, creating a breathtaking and thrilling spectacle.

The audience's eyes widened as they stared intently at the two on stage, each holding their breath, afraid to miss a single exciting moment. Their gazes quickly followed the two figures, their emotions fluctuating with the battle's momentum. Some couldn't help but cheer loudly as they saw Mo Shang deftly deflect Leng Ying's attacks; others, seeing Leng Ying's unpredictable movements and tricky attacks, couldn't help but break into a cold sweat for Mo Shang.

Su Nan and Mo Yu stood in the audience, feeling relaxed. They knew Mo Shang's strength very well, so it would be easy and pleasant for them to deal with this small fry. However, they still had to perform the necessary scenes.

As time went on, Mo Shang gradually gained the upper hand. Each of his attacks perfectly targeted Leng Ying's weak spots, rendering Leng Ying's attacks increasingly weak and chaotic. Leng Ying's illusion began to become increasingly illusory, and his movements were no longer as swift and agile as at the beginning, but became slow and hesitant. It was clear that he was gradually unable to withstand Mo Shang's violent and violent attacks.

Just when Mo Shang saw the right moment and was about to give Leng Ying a fatal blow to completely end the battle, the leader of the Phantom Pavilion suddenly shouted: "Palace Master Mo, please show mercy!" His voice was full of anxiety and worry, and he was obviously afraid that Leng Ying would be seriously injured or even lose his life from this blow.

Mo Shang smiled slightly, and without stopping his hands, he slapped Leng Ying on the heart. Leng Ying groaned and flew out of the arena, crashing into the wall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't stop." Mo Shang said this, but there was no guilt on his face.

The Phantom Pavilion Master was already pale at this point. He knew full well that Mo Shang could have stopped, and that he had done it on purpose. But that was how the arena was. If you lost, you lost. To be fair, it all came down to who had the harder fist.

Mo Shang's outstanding performance in this competition excited the Black Feather Palace. They erupted in thunderous cheers and applause. Shouts of "Palace Master is mighty!" "Black Feather Palace will surely win!" echoed throughout the arena, their faces brimming with pride and joy.

Mo Shang didn't leave the stage. He wanted to deal with all the enemies in front of him at once: "Who else...? Vision? As the leader of the Phantom Pavilion, you sent an elder down to fight me, the leader of the Black Feather Palace. It seems that you look down on me, don't you? Now you can come down, let's have a fight."

……