Chapter 126: Daily Life

The match had martial artists as referees, but since it wasn't a professional league, any lethal moves were naturally prohibited. Bai Lang's Tiger Claw wasn't lethal, so it was perfectly permissible. Just as Wang Yali was still tearing up, upset that she'd lost in a single move, Bai Lang had already turned and walked toward the idle guy. "Hurry up, finish early and call it a day!"

That person didn't even have time to give his name; seeing Bai Lang rush over, he could only overlap his palms and push them out. Every Internal Force Martial Artist present had his own signature move, almost without exception, and none of them were the national martial arts taught at school.

This strike should have been three palms; the Yangtze Triple Wave Palm normally requires three palms to be released together, but due to insufficient internal force this comrade could only manage two palms, and likewise, with insufficient internal force the palm power couldn't be projected outward—Correct, Bai Lang's external projection of internal force suffers heavy loss; native martial artists' external loss isn't that great, yet the so-called 'one zhang splitting air palm' remains mythic. This comrade's two palms packed considerable power, but lacking follow‑through he couldn't unleash a third palm.

The Yangtze Triple Wave Palm's technique is all about stacked power; the force of two palms isn't just a casual double chop—that would be 1+1, whereas this is 1+1 plus another 1. After this comrade slapped out his two palms, he immediately kicked, delivering three rapid strikes in succession. Sure enough, he was an excellent Three‑Strikes Axe practitioner, but Bai Lang stepped forward with a Collapsing Fist, punched through his palm force and struck his leg directly.

That leg was shoved straight into his chest, the fist's force penetrating his body, and he rolled out, unable to support himself on one leg, falling to the ground. Another one‑punch victory, while the other three pairs were still undecided. Qian Ruohai and the other fourth‑year students glanced over, their eyes filled with awe. As for Yan Xiaoyan, needless to say, her eyes blinked repeatedly, almost as if they could emit light—seeing a first‑year student fight like this, she thought his future was limitless.

Should she dump her current boyfriend and try to persuade Bai Lang, the junior, that the saying 'a woman three years older brings a gold brick' actually makes sense? Besides, she wasn't even three years older, so Yan Xiaoyan probably thought that way. Bai Lang, however, didn't care what others thought; he stood to the side with his arms crossed, waiting for the other three pairs to finish their matches. Those people had naturally seen Bai Lang's fight; though it was just a match, they still had the energy to pay attention elsewhere. Being aware of six directions and listening to eight—after all, that's part of fighting.

This first‑year freshman—of course everyone knew his name was Bai Lang, and some even smirked that he shared a name with a historical figure, his parents really being quite daring—but now he looks like a mighty tiger. Easily defeating Wang Yali was expected, since she was the weakest among them, yet in the blink of an eye he also defeated Shi Jian, who ranked mid‑tier, and did it in an extremely short time, taking down two opponents with a single move each...

His martial arts were probably top‑tier among them.

Bai Lang could see that these people's fighting spirit toward him had essentially dropped to zero. As expected, no one came to challenge him afterward; they simply forfeited. Bai Lang grinned, pulled out his phone—the message was from a rich third‑generation heir, indicating that even though he lived off campus, he already knew Bai Lang was an official member of the martial arts club. The tone of the message instantly grew friendlier, saying he'd treat everyone to a meal.

That rich third‑generation heir was already decent, often treating the dormmates to meals; when Bai Lang first arrived, he was even clinging to a thigh for a yacht outing at sea. Now the heir completely adopts a humble stance, eager to network. Bai Lang casually realizes this is definitely an opportunity for the rich third‑generation heir—his classmates, especially those he gets along with in the dorm who are martial artists, mean there will be plenty of chances to ask him to step in and 'extend life'.

He himself doesn't need it for now, but his elders back home could use it, and the rich third‑generation heir also has family issues.

As expected, Bai Lang easily secured eligibility for the individual competition; the team event was irrelevant to him—one doesn't need to stand out specially, saying one wants both individual and team honors.

When he returned to the dormitory, as expected it turned into a gauntlet of welcomes—anyone from the same dorm building or the same year came over to shake hands. It felt like a leader going on a rural inspection. Although it was a male dorm, female students swaggered in and joined the line. Seeing this, Bai Lang sighed, "Gender discrimination!" Everyone wanted to get on good terms with the future big shot, while simultaneously resenting why it wasn't them.

That sour feeling could only be kept inside; speaking up would only earn the big shot's sideways glance and make oneself even more bitter, achieving nothing. However, one could mutter behind the big shot's back, letting one's failed life enjoy a tiny bit of happiness.

Martial artists are less likely to be eyed as enemies by ordinary working folk than wealthy people are, since everyone used to practice similar things; being able to cultivate a sense of qi and develop internal force shows one has the ability and qualification, and having more money merely speeds progress by a step or two. Moreover, virtually all martial artists who have reached the pinnacle throughout history came from ordinary families. Besides studying, practicing martial arts is also a path to great wealth and honor for common families.

The lackey Liang bowed and scraped, "Please, boss, enter the room, please take a seat, please turn on the computer, please..." "I'll get lost myself..." the guy ran off, clutching the "secret manual" Bai Lang had given him last time to go practice martial arts. "I doubt he'll last three days," Bai Lang muttered. His "secret manual" was merely about cultivating internal force from the outside in; the problem is it might not suit this world, and he truly hasn't tested whether practicing it here yields any progress.

"But the principle of forging strength from outside to inside won't change; as for physique… it'll probably have some effect." Bai Lang sat in the dorm thinking, then looked left and right, "This place really doesn't match my taste—change places, change places." With money soon to be in his pocket, Bai Lang's mind sprang into action.

For Bai Lang, this world's ten years were a rare decade of mind‑body cultivation without any 'crisis,' "I keep worrying that when I go back I won't be able to adapt all at once..."

The following days passed uneventfully; aside from a few lackeys appearing around him, he only received many love messages—several female classmates and even senior girls actively confessed their feelings. Of course, the goddess Tian Li should still be playing hard to get with Bai Lang, and she hasn't confessed yet. As for Bai Lang himself, besides training at the dojo, he merely tried to get on good terms with those Internal Force Martial Artists, hoping to obtain some other secret manuals—but for that, Bai Lang no longer held much hope.

His fighting style can be referenced; at least he has indeed trained in the Yangtze Triple Wave Palm—let's see how it differs.