"You think your little magic tricks scare me?" Qiao Zhenghu snarls, his face twisted with rage and desperation.
The chair comes down like a sledgehammer, aimed directly at my skull. I don't move. Don't even blink.
The wooden chair explodes against an invisible barrier three inches from my head. Splinters shower the room like deadly confetti. The impact reverberates through the air with a sound like thunder.
Qiao Zhenghu staggers backward, staring at the shattered remains in his hands. His knuckles are bloodied from the force of his own strike. The color drains from his weathered face.
"Impossible," he whispers.
I remain perfectly still, hands clasped behind my back. The Qi barrier around my body shimmers like heat waves, visible for just a moment before fading back to transparency.
"You're not a grandmaster," Qiao Zhenghu breathes, his voice cracking with sudden understanding. "You're something else entirely."
