Chapter 112: No Courage to Even Challenge

A hint of impatience flashed across Jian Ying's face, as if he strongly disagreed with his father, "If you keep this up, I'll get angry."

"Ha ha, I can't just walk into my son's room anymore?"

The middle‑aged man let out a hearty laugh, taking Jian Ying's words in stride.

He entered the room, dragged a chair over for himself, sat down and said in a serious tone:

"Xiao Ying, the Champion from Dongchuan Province has been selected early. He's a youth named Lu Jing, his Blood Qi is strong, and even at his tender age he has grasped Fist Intent. I hear he's also a Talent Endowed, though what talent exactly is unclear; it seems he hasn't really used it yet."

"How strong can Blood Qi get, even if it's strong?"

Jian Ying let out a cold snort, clenched his right hand, and the three shadows standing beside him instantly shattered, returning to his own body.

"But being able to grasp Fist Intent is indeed not to be underestimated. As for what kind of Talent Endowed he is… I'm really not interested; a talent never used must be a useless one."

Seeing Jian Ying's youthful vigor, the middle‑aged man sighed, "Fine, I'm just giving you intel on your opponent. I'm confident in your strength; as long as you perform normally, the title Dragon Imperial New Star will surely be yours."

After finishing, the middle‑aged man stood to leave, then suddenly recalled something, "By the way, don't train too late lately. The Martial Way stresses a balance of work and rest; your constant day‑night reversal also affects Blood Qi growth. Young people need to soak up more sunlight!"

Having said that, he strode out of the room, his figure vanishing at the far end of the corridor.

Jian Ying remained silent, watching the open door, his impatience deepening further.

The Black Aura swirling around him rose, and a vivid black shadow materialized.

Snap!

The black shadow dissipated, instantly appearing at the doorway, reaching out to close the door and bolt it from the inside.

"There are five days left; I hope among them there is someone worth my intervention…"

The room dimmed again; Jian Ying licked his lips, a hint of anticipation flashing in his eyes.

Far on the frontier, atop a snow‑capped peak.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

The temple's resonant bells echoed through the open mountain.

Within the meditation hall, a young figure clad in a yellow kasaya sat cross‑legged on a straw mat, continuously rotating prayer beads between his fingers.

His skin, astonishingly, shimmered with a golden sheen, as if coated in gold lacquer, strikingly similar to the golden Buddha statue ahead.

As the bells faded, the youth ceased his motion and rose to his feet.

Unlike typical Buddhist disciples, the youth had not taken tonsure, appearing to be a lay disciple.

Squeak—

A door swung open, and an elderly abbot with long white whiskers stepped out.

"Master!"

The youth quickly pressed his palms together and bowed in greeting.

"Fan Kong, descend the mountain early tomorrow morning."

The old abbot stroked his beard, his eyes shining as he looked at Fan Kong.

"Master, I have some doubts… please enlighten me!"

"What doubts?"

Fan Kong sighed, "Master, these past years I've grown accustomed to avoiding conflict. Why do you want me to vie for the Champion in the training camp and then head to the capital to campaign for a title?"

"Ha ha, Fan Kong, ever since you entered the sect I knew this day would come," the old abbot said with a smile. "All of this is cause and effect, also your responsibility. If you stay here, it would be an escape, a selfish desire."

"Of course, when you go to the capital this time, remember not to fight fiercely; just do your best, and don't force it."

Fan Kong, hearing this, looked somewhat bewildered, "Then Master, if I obtain that title, what then?"

"If you get it, that's best; you can stay in the capital and return to lay life."

"What if I lose?"

The old abbot's expression briefly stalled, a trace of reluctance flashing in his eyes, "Even then you should return to lay life; you never belonged here, and in time someone will arrange your path."

Meanwhile, Lu Jing had no idea what kind of opponent he would face.

It was his last night staying at the training camp, busy clearing the table piled high with food.

"My wristwatch's points haven't been deducted; I need to quickly earn more…"

Once I go out, the meals won't be this good.

The next day.

Morning.

Inside the Dongchuan Province Martial Association.

Ye Shaohua stared at the early‑returning Hao Pengjie, his face full of disbelief.

"What? You were only third?!"

"The Champion is that Lu Jing? And he didn't even take part in the ranking battle?"

Ye Shaohua's face was covered with question marks.

He could accept anyone as Champion, except Lu Jing.

"I told you to help me punish him, and you damn well never made a move!" Ye Shaohua's chest rose and fell with anger as he pointed at Hao Pengjie, scolding, "You coward, you didn't even dare to challenge him in the final ranking battle, what a damn disgrace!"

Because the Genius Training Camp is sealed, information is scarce; outsiders have no idea what exactly transpired inside.

Ye Shaohua always thought he had narrowly lost to Lu Jing; given another chance, he was sure he could turn Lu Jing to ash.

And this Lu Jing, whose strength was comparable to his, actually seized the Champion title—how could he possibly accept that?

Could it be that this batch of trainees are all amateurs?

Ye Shaohua felt both anger and a hint of regret.

If he hadn't been injured, his arm not severed, the Champion spot would surely have been his!

Hao Pengjie had a calm expression, watching the shifting light on Ye Shaohua's face, not knowing what to say.

After all, he had promised the other side to help punish Lu Jing.

But being frightened into a psychological trauma at the first meeting was indeed a bit embarrassing.

Nevertheless, out of pride he still explained, "You might not know Lu Jing well; his strength is great, strong in all aspects, with no weak points. I'm far from his match, and even Feng Xinglan lacks the courage to challenge him…"

"Feng Xinglan hasn't challenged him either?"

A flash of surprise crossed Ye Shaohua's face.

He knew Feng Xinglan; in Dongchuan Province he is the recognized strongest prodigy.

He didn't expect even he gave up challenging Lu Jing—Is Lu Jing really that strong?

However, when Ye Shaohua thought that Lu Jing seized the Champion without joining the ranking battle, he felt some resentment.

He sneered, "Feng Xinglan may be unable to match him in speed, but you're different; you're a mental-type Talent Endowed—could he even break through your blade net?"

Hao Pengjie shrugged, "What if he's also a mental-type Talent Endowed, and his Realm is higher than mine."

"What?!"

Ye Shaohua was completely unsettled now; he was so frightened that he stepped back several times.

This… how could this be possible?

Since when have mental-type Talent Endowed become so commonplace?

If Lu Jing is a Talent Endowed, that's still acceptable.

But he could never be a mental-type!