Chapter 78: Onstage They Fight, Offstage They Talk

The trainees have been divided into groups.

There are nine groups total, each with eight members.

The Wuzhengsuo’s training ground is large enough; the trainees from the eight martial halls occupy the surrounding areas, leaving the central arena clear.

At this moment.

Just ten zhang from the training ground stands the tallest building of the Wuzhengsuo: Wuchang Tower.

It is also the tallest building in Poyang County.

On the sixth floor of Wuchang Tower, Jiang Qing and seven other martial hall trainees are present, yet none speak to one another; all their gazes are fixed on the training ground.

All eight are the strongest trainees of their respective martial halls this year, each with their own pride, naturally unwilling to initiate conversation with others.

Two levels higher, two men sit dressed in light blue official robes embroidered with nine auspicious clouds.

Ninth-rank official robes.

Only two people in all of Poyang County are entitled to wear them: the director of the Wuzhengsuo and the county magistrate.

“Brother Su has truly gone to great lengths for this competition,” He Ruyun sipped his tea and spoke.

Su Lingchuan smiled faintly: “In recent years, martial cultivation in Poyang County has declined. As director of the Wuzhengsuo, I can only do my utmost to stir the trainees’ fighting spirit.”

“Only Brother Su could accomplish this. If anyone else had this intention, they still couldn’t manage it.”

He Ruyun’s words came from genuine feeling; had Su Lingchuan not been the direct disciple of the Wuzheng Office’s director, the Ru Prefecture Wuzheng Office might never have approved thirteen Tongqiao Pills as rewards.

It’s not that the Wuzheng Office lacks these Tongqiao Pills—it’s just that these are only the beginning. The three-month competition awards Tongqiao Pills; the sixth-month, ninth-month, and year-end grand contests will demand even greater rewards.

Taken together, this reward package is extremely generous. The previous two directors of the Wuzhengsuo could never have mustered such support.

“Brother He, it’s not just Poyang County—other counties are the same. The Wuzheng Office doesn’t favor one over another.”

Su Lingchuan knew what his brother He was thinking and offered an explanation.

“The other counties are the same too?”

He Ruyun pondered. As county magistrate, he knew the conditions in other counties, but his focus was mostly on government affairs and civilian life; he rarely concerned himself with martial halls, paying attention only slightly during the provincial and prefectural examinations.

“What’s the reason?”

Su Lingchuan shook his head in silence.

Seeing Su Lingchuan’s silent nod, He Ruyun traced the rim of his teacup with his fingers and formed a guess. After a long pause, he said: “Brother Su, may I add an extra reward after this competition, on behalf of my county office?”

“Brother He supports Poyang’s martial path—how could I refuse? It’s entirely appropriate. I thank you on behalf of the martial hall trainees,” Su Lingchuan replied.

“Brother, you’re too formal. As magistrate of Poyang County, these trainees are my people too.”

He Ruyun laughed heartily. Some things need not be spoken outright—his brother Su had already given him the answer, and that was enough.

Thinking carefully, that person has indeed reached the time to take this step.

…

…

The training ground.

The match for Group A is now underway.

Trainees draw lots within their group, pairing off; losers are eliminated, winners advance.

Lin Chen watched as Sister Li lost in the second round to a fellow six-meridian trainee from Qixing Martial Hall, his expression showing regret.

Sister Li still lacks practical combat experience.

The eventual winner of this group should be Zhang Qing of Tie Xue Martial Hall; though only six meridians open, he has mastered Iron Collapse Fist, making him comparable to a seven-meridian trainee, and he defeated both opponents within just a few strikes.

The ferocity of Iron Collapse Fist is evident.

“Lin Brother, if you faced Zhang Qing, do you think you could win?” Fu Jingya asked curiously.

“Hard to say.”

Lin Chen shook his head: “His realm is no lower than mine, and I’ve never fought a disciple of Tie Xue Martial Hall.”

“Iron Collapse Fist is brutally powerful, but its flaw is that without reaching minor mastery, it exhausts quickly. When facing Tie Xue disciples, avoid their initial assault and strike back once their momentum fades.”

Kong Yinglei, listening nearby, softly offered this advice.

The Group A match was Haowuxuannian , and the crowd offered little commentary; after the Group A list was announced, Zhang Qing’s victory was already expected.

“Zhang Qing wins. Group A competition ends. Group B trainees, draw lots.”

As the Wuzhengsuo referee spoke, the atmosphere grew electric—Group B would undoubtedly be the most thrilling.

Of the eight martial halls, only twelve trainees have opened seven meridians. Among them, the two seven-meridian trainees from Zhen Yue and Tie Xue Martial Halls are seeded and exempt from the first round.

Tanglang Martial Hall has no eight-meridian trainees, only two seven-meridian ones; one of them received a seeded spot. Thus, only nine seven-meridian trainees remain on the field.

Group B now has three seven-meridian trainees—destined to be a fierce battle.

“Sister Gu, good luck!”

Lin Chen cheered for Gu Qingqing, but seeing her puzzled look, he realized this world had no word for “ Jiayou .”

“I wish you a swift and victorious start, Sister.”

“I accept your good wishes, Brother.”

Gu Qingqing smiled faintly. Upon seeing her group’s opponents, she had felt pressure, but now she had regained her composure.

The Group B draw concluded quickly. Seeing the results, Lin Chen and the others from Jing Shui Martial Hall smiled.

Sister Gu’s luck was excellent—her first opponent was a five-meridian trainee from Qixing Martial Hall. But that wasn’t why Lin Chen and the others were pleased.

They were pleased because the seven-meridian trainee from Qing Feng Martial Hall drew the seven-meridian trainee from Tanglang Martial Hall in the first round.

Even Kong Yinglei smiled. In contrast, Qi He’s face darkened. But Lin Chen noticed the deputy director of Tanglang Martial Hall showed no change in expression.

“Is there something special about that Tanglang trainee?”

In this group match, losing means elimination—no trainee would hold back. It would be a full-out battle. One opponent rested, the other had just fought a grueling match—the difference in condition would be significant.

Group B’s first match: Gu Qingqing easily defeated her opponent, her expression unchanged. To defeat a five-meridian opponent as a seven-meridian was not worth celebrating.

Group B’s second match: a five-meridian Tie Xue trainee versus a six-meridian Kuang Feng trainee.

The fight lasted a full quarter-hour; the Tie Xue trainees began shouting insults.

“If you’re too cowardly to fight, don’t come up!”

“So Kuang Feng’s Wind Leg is just for running away? Today I’ve learned something!”

The Tie Xue trainees shouted, and the Kuang Feng trainees didn’t hold back—they fired back.

“What ‘brutal’ Iron Collapse Fist? Can’t even land a punch—what good is it?”

“Ridiculous! Who says a fight must be fought standing still? If that’s the rule, then skip the match entirely—just trade blows until one falls. Winner takes all.”

“Brother’s right. Maybe they really think that way. But if so, I think Zhen Yue Martial Hall will still win—they’re the toughest to knock down among the eight halls.”

The reason for the two martial halls’ shouting was that the Kuang Feng trainee avoided direct confrontation, using his leg speed to dodge, refusing to engage Tie Xue head-on.

Tie Xue trainees called Kuang Feng cowards; Kuang Feng trainees retorted that it was called strategy.

Wuchang Tower.

Tie Xue’s Fei Hong snorted, glancing at Zhang Qing nearby: “Is this all the Kuang Feng trainees are capable of?”

“Whether they’re capable or not, we’ll know when the match ends.”

Zhang Qing replied bluntly. The Tie Xue trainee below had not even reached mastery of Iron Collapse Fist—his full-power punches had missed Chen’s brother repeatedly and were now losing steam.

“I hope your legs can run just as fast when it’s your turn.”

Fei Hong had noticed his junior’s qi was flagging—this pace would lead to defeat, hence his complaint.

“Whether I can run that fast is none of your concern.”

As Fei Hong and Zhang Qing exchanged barbs, the match on the ground reached its conclusion.

The Tie Xue trainee’s face was pale, his punches weak. Seeing this, the Kuang Feng trainee’s eyes lit up—he stopped dodging, leapt high, and unleashed his Wind Leg with a sharp whistle, sweeping it with brutal speed.

“Tricked!”

Lin Chen murmured softly from the sidelines.

His words drew Kong Yinglei’s gaze. Fu Jingya asked curiously: “What do you mean, Brother?”

But Lin Chen didn’t need to answer—the arena had already answered.

Just as the Kuang Feng trainee’s leg neared the Tie Xue trainee’s body, the latter suddenly reversed his weakness—his aura surged violently. He threw a punch, also whistling through the air, smashing directly into the opponent’s leg.

CRACK!

Everyone heard the sound of the Kuang Feng trainee’s leg breaking. The Tie Xue trainee struck with full force, showing no mercy.

“Lin Brother, how did you know?”

Seeing the Kuang Feng trainee writhing in pain on the ground, Fu Jingya’s eyes widened in surprise—she too had believed the Tie Xue trainee was exhausted.

“If his qi were truly depleted, his steps would be light and unsteady. But when he shifted his stance, his footing remained firm. So I judged he was faking—deliberately appearing weak to lure the opponent into attacking.”

“Yes. Lin Chen observes very carefully. In martial combat, no detail can be overlooked. The more cautious, the better.”

Kong Yinglei was satisfied with Lin Chen’s answer and added a reminder to the other trainees.

After this match, the Tie Xue trainees launched another round of mockery; the Kuang Feng trainees glared in fury, but defeat was defeat—they had no grounds to argue.

Group B’s third match was dull—Zhen Yue’s trainee won easily.

Group B’s fourth match: the main event—Qing Feng’s seven-meridian trainee, Chi Hanfei, versus Tanglang’s seven-meridian trainee, Meng Yuan.

Both were seven-meridian, but among the crowd, Chi Hanfei was clearly favored—Tanglang Fist was famously the weakest, and Tanglang Martial Hall was the lowest-ranked of the eight.

Of this year’s new trainees, only three martial halls had no eight-meridian disciples: Tie Xue, Zhen Yue, and Tanglang.

But Tie Xue and Zhen Yue lacking eight-meridian trainees was expected—both halls naturally advance slower than the others.

“Lin Brother, who do you think will win this match?”

Fu Jingya asked again. Lin Chen’s lip twitched—Sister Fu really loved asking questions.

“Meng Yuan.”

After a moment of thought, Lin Chen gave his answer.

“Do you think Meng Yuan will win? Isn’t Chi Hanfei more likely to prevail?”

Fu Jingya was puzzled, but then remembered that Lin Chen had transferred from Qingfeng Martial Hall to their Jingshui Martial Hall.

She instantly realized: Lin Chen must have no fondness for Qingfeng Martial Hall, which was why he hoped Meng Yuan would win.

Seeing Fu Jie’s “I understand” expression, Lin Chen felt helpless—what was she imagining now?

(End of Chapter)