The Competition of Splitting One’s Concentration into Two Parts

"They call me Ghost Hand," said the young man. His gaze was empty and his voice equally so.

"Ling Chuxi," said Ling Chuxi curtly.

The surroundings were quiet as everyone nervously looked on. Qing Lingyan stood watching from the back from a distance away. There was no longer the anger of yesterday in her eyes, instead, they were calm, chilling and confident. Ghost Hand's pill refinement was of a level that even the old folks of Cold Moon Palace who have immersed themselves in perfecting medicinal skills for dozens of years would not be able to compete against. No matter how skilled Ling Chuxi was, she could not possibly be more skilled than him. Furthermore, given Ghost Hand's level of achievement in martial arts, hmph, what could Ling Chuxi's do in comparison? Could she possibly win against him? Qing Lingyan was filled with incomparable self-confidence.

"Begin!" barked Su Yizhi as an order.