Chapter 84: Two Techniques Reach Minor Mastery—How Is That Possible?

Lin Chen defeated Peng Bo.

But the atmosphere in the arena was strange; few eyes looked at the battlefield, most trainees’ gazes shifted back and forth between Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall and Jingshui Martial Arts Hall.

Watching others’ drama is a universal human pleasure—even warriors are no exception.

Lin Chen’s minor mastery of Qingfeng Palm had surprised them, but now they wanted to know why Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall had let Lin Chen join Jingshui Martial Arts Hall.

Chen Chunfeng’s expression didn’t change; it was the hall’s mistake to misjudge him.

What concerned him now was whether Lin Chen could return to Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall after this match; since Lin Chen had achieved minor mastery of Qingfeng Palm in such a short time, with proper guidance after returning, Qingfeng Palm would surely reach great mastery within a year.

And this time, Qi Shixiong probably wouldn’t oppose Lin Chen receiving Class-A benefits anymore.

But this matter wasn’t urgent; he’d discuss it with Jingshui Martial Arts Hall after the match ended.

At Jingshui Martial Arts Hall, Kong Yinglei’s lips curled upward; watching Lin Chen defeat Peng Bo with Qingfeng Palm gave her great satisfaction.

Especially seeing Qi He’s dark face, her inner joy deepened.

When Jingshui Martial Arts Hall had trained Lin Chen for Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall, they had no selfish motives—yet Qingfeng hadn’t appreciated it, and now they must be filled with regret.

But knowing Qi He as she did, his regret stemmed more from shame—he’d become a laughingstock to other halls.

Wait and see.

It’s still early; when Lin Chen unleashes great mastery of Qingfeng Palm, she longed to see Qi He’s expression then.

Too bad the match wasn’t over; Lin Chen still had to conceal his strength, or she’d have made him unleash Qingfeng Palm right now—she was already impatient to see Qi He’s face.

As for Chen Chunfeng, when Kong Yinglei saw him smile faintly at her, she froze; she didn’t understand the meaning behind his smile.

Fu Jingya and the other girls from Jingshui Martial Arts Hall weren’t especially surprised; they merely cheered for Brother Lin, for they already knew his Qingfeng Palm had reached proficiency.

Final match of Group C.

Lin Chen versus Zhou Yu.

“I’ve heard of you.”

Zhou Yu stood opposite Lin Chen and spoke slowly; Lin Chen raised an eyebrow, waiting for more.

“Young Master Zhao mentioned you—he admired you most during his training at the Martial Hall. He held you in high regard. I thought he exaggerated, but now I see he didn’t.”

Lin Chen smiled; he knew Zhou Yu meant Zhao Jingchuan, also from Yunyin Martial Arts Hall, and Zhao’s nature ensured he got along well with fellow trainees.

Lin Chen didn’t believe Zhao had betrayed his true strength by mentioning him to Zhou Yu; Zhao’s character meant he’d only said he admired Lin Chen—not revealed his actual power.

Indeed, when Lin Chen’s name appeared atop Group C, Zhao Jingchuan had quietly advised Zhou Yu to choose an opponent from another group.

But Zhou Yu had confidence in himself and ignored the advice.

“Your family background isn’t as good as Zhao’s, yet you’ve come this far—I understand why Zhao admires you. If I were Zhao, I’d feel the same.”

To Zhou Yu, Zhao admired Lin Chen because Lin Chen had risen from a village to reach this level, surpassing most urban trainees.

Too bad his journey must end here.

“Storytellers love tales of humble youths rising to glory—but stories are just stories. Brother Lin, I’m sorry, your tale ends here.”

Hearing Zhou Yu’s words, Lin Chen blinked several times, unsure how to respond.

Zhou Yu wasn’t arrogant; his tone even carried a hint of apology.

“Senior Brother Zhou, that’s not certain.”

Since Zhou Yu was courteous, Lin Chen wouldn’t provoke him; for Zhou Yu’s sake, he decided to start the match quickly.

The more Zhou Yu spoke, the more humiliating the outcome would be.

“Please instruct me!” Lin Chen bowed.

Simultaneously, the referee announced the match had begun.

Almost the instant the referee spoke, Zhou Yu lightly tapped the ground and vanished like a ghost, closing the distance in an instant, leaving only afterimages in his wake.

Zhou Yu’s form appeared at Lin Chen’s left, eyes gleaming with triumph; his fingers curled into hooks, slicing through the air with a sharp whistle as he struck Lin Chen’s arm—deadly precise.

This Brother Lin surely hadn’t expected him to strike first after speaking so earnestly; caught off guard, he’d be hit.

His earlier words were sincere, but that didn’t mean he’d underestimate Lin Chen.

Minor mastery of Qingfeng Palm—he’d be a fool to truly look down on it.

In martial combat, deception and reality must intertwine to confuse the opponent.

This was what their instructor taught them, and the hallmark of Yunyin Martial Arts Hall’s techniques.

Yunzong Hand was their entry-grade technique, emphasizing footwork and grappling; perfected, the user moved like a ghost, making it impossible for opponents to predict where the attack would come from.

The crowd erupted in shock.

Trainees from other halls hadn’t expected Zhou Yu to strike first.

“Despicable!”

“Utterly shameless!”

At Jingshui Martial Arts Hall, Fu Jingya and the others frowned; Zhou Yu was too underhanded.

Lin Chen remained calm; though surprised by Zhou Yu’s move, the attack wasn’t fast to him.

More accurately, he hadn’t seen the technique with his eyes—he’d predicted Zhou Yu’s next step and strike instinctively.

He’d fought Zhao Jingchuan before; he knew Yunzong Hand well.

When Zhou Yu’s form appeared at his left, he’d already guessed the technique.

Anticipating an opponent’s move like this was impossible before Qingfeng Palm reached perfection.

This was the change brought by perfecting Qingfeng Palm.

Perfect Qingfeng Palm didn’t just reveal its essence—it sharpened his perception of martial principles.

As Zhou Yu’s hands neared his arm, Lin Chen sidestepped, evading the deadly claw with ease, then struck back with a palm strike—“Cloud Rises, Dragon Soars”—aimed straight at Zhou Yu’s chest.

This time, Lin Chen used Shuiyun Palm.

Zhou Yu’s heart tightened; he hadn’t expected Lin Chen to react so swiftly at such close range—not only dodging his attack but countering.

A flicker of frustration crossed his eyes; his footwork shifted instantly, his body darting like flying clouds, circling Lin Chen, each movement accompanied by a grappling strike.

Though his realm was higher, Zhou Yu avoided direct confrontation; exploiting his strengths against Lin Chen’s weaknesses was the wise choice.

Yunzong Hand’s advantage lay in its agility—footwork, strikes, all fluid—exhausting the opponent until a fatal opening appeared.

Yet every time Zhou Yu thought he’d found the right moment to strike, Lin Chen deflected it precisely.

After dozens of breaths, Zhou Yu grew impatient; he tried every tactic, but each time he attacked, Lin Chen’s palm forced him to retreat.

Watching Zhou Yu’s movements and strikes slow, Lin Chen knew he was exhausted.

In truth, he could’ve ended this faster; he’d delayed only to test whether his ability to predict opponents’ moves was accurate.

The test was complete; the match should end now.

After repelling Zhou Yu once more, Lin Chen’s aura surged; his Shuiyun Palm strikes came like tidal waves, relentless and overwhelming, surrounding Zhou Yu with a storm of palms and water-like ripples.

Each impact sent force through Zhou Yu’s body that he could barely endure; he could only stagger backward, unable to shift his stance or evade Lin Chen’s onslaught.

Lin Chen seemed to foresee every move Zhou Yu made, always blocking his escape before he could act.

Hiss!

The crowd watched the dazzling palm shadows and the sound of water surging with Lin Chen’s strikes—silent.

They’d assumed Lin Chen had only minor mastery of Qingfeng Palm; now they saw he’d also achieved minor mastery of Shuiyun Palm.

Two entry-grade techniques, both minor mastery? Was he even human?

Among the trainees, few could even reach proficiency in one technique, let alone minor mastery.

Meng Yuan of Tanglang Martial Arts Hall’s mouth hung open; he’d believed his Tanglang Fist minor mastery would make him the talk of the competition and launch him into the spotlight today.

Yet less than an hour later, no one cared about him anymore.

All eyes were fixed on Lin Chen; no one remembered Meng Yuan, whose Tanglang Fist was also minor mastery.

Ten breaths later.

A sharp crack echoed; Zhou Yu’s right arm dropped limp, then his left shoulder took another palm strike, sending him stumbling back dozens of steps.

Feeling his right arm useless and his left shoulder torn with pain, Zhou Yu’s face darkened: “I lose.”

Zhou Yu knew Lin Chen had held back; the palm to his shoulder had clearly been restrained.

He wasn’t foolish—he wouldn’t refuse to yield; even if he didn’t admit defeat, his right arm was useless, and he couldn’t fight on.

“Thank you.”

Lin Chen bowed, his expression unchanged from before.

Since he’d begun his frantic realm-boosting last month, his goal had been top ten—or higher; defeating non-seed opponents like Zhou Yu didn’t stir his emotions.

As the referee announced the Group C winner, Jingshui Martial Arts Hall erupted in cheers; Lin Chen smiled and walked toward his hall’s area.

“Master Kong, your disciple has not disgraced your trust.”

Kong Yinglei kept a stern face, merely nodding “Mm”; her senior had told her—as vice-mistress—she must remain composed.

“Hah! Lin Chen, you’ve given me quite the surprise, teacher!”

Shen Lin didn’t hide her excitement; Lin Chen winning his group meant his worst possible rank was sixteenth—if he won one more match, he might enter the top ten.

As long as he didn’t draw one of the eight seeds like Jiang Qing, and faced winners from other groups, the chance still existed.

On Wuchang Pavilion.

Su Lingchuan’s expression grew thoughtful; after a long pause, he said: “Senior He, since you intend to reward this year’s martial trainees, why not hold tomorrow’s contest at the city gate?”

This Jingshui Martial Arts Hall trainee, Lin Chen, had surprised him—and stirred new thoughts.

He Ruyun considered briefly, then nodded: “Agreed. I’ll have the government office build a platform and send notices across the county—tomorrow’s martial contest at the city gate is open to all citizens.”

(End of Chapter)