Chapter 45: Comeback

Both realized this, exchanged glances, and their expressions grew slightly solemn.

As instructors in the academy, how could they lead students in cheating?

No, no, even if you’re the young master of the Divine General’s Mansion, it’s still not allowed—you didn’t even bring a gift… damn it, no gift at all, not even if you did, you’re not an imperial prince…

While the two were frantically thinking of how to politely refuse the boy, Li Hao had already answered Shen Yunqing:

“That technique? I already know it.”

“Actually, it’s normal to find it hard—you just need to study it slowly and…”

Shen Yunqing’s words cut off mid-sentence; he froze, staring at Li Hao in shock: “What did you say?”

“I said, I’ve already mastered the technique on the stone tablet,” Li Hao repeated, wondering if the old man was deaf.

“Mastered it?”

Opposite him, the gray-robed elder Zhao Zongyuan stared at Li Hao in surprise—did “mastered” mean he’d merely entered the first stage? “Which one did you choose? Zhanfeng Fist or Jiuxing San Die Step?”

Shen Yunqing snapped back to himself and scrutinized Li Hao—this kid’s just boasting, right?

“Zhanfeng Fist.”

Li Hao paused, realizing this truly was remarkable, then immediately threw a punch. The air trembled faintly, emitting a low, resonant force—sharp wind blades seemed to slice through the punch’s momentum.

Both men’s gazes sharpened—they recognized this as one of Zhanfeng Fist’s offensive moves. To produce wind-resonating slashes like this wasn’t just beginner-level—it bordered on refined, even perfected.

Could it be…

They exchanged glances, eyes darkening. They’d long heard of the Li family’s Tingyu Tower, housing countless martial techniques—could Zhanfeng Fist be among them? But these three techniques on the stone tablet were all recorded by their Tan Gong Academy, replaced every six years, and never before seen outside.

Between major powers, relationships were complex; the two elders’ minds filled with thoughts, but they quickly suppressed them, choosing not to ask Li Hao.

They never once considered that Li Hao had grasped this fist technique in mere moments.

That short time was barely enough to study it once—barely enough to grasp its surface. To reach refined or perfected levels? Impossible.

“Then you’ve passed, but we don’t administer tests—go find that big man over there.”

Shen Yunqing pointed toward the square’s center, where a middle-aged man stood with arms crossed, expression calm. Before him, four people practiced techniques, their movements clearly awkward.

“I’ll go soon.”

Li Hao wasn’t in a hurry—he turned his gaze to the chessboard between them, glanced twice, and immediately saw the position: “This game’s about to be lost.”

“Hm?”

Both elders were slightly startled. Shen Yunqing raised an eyebrow: “You’re just a child—you understand chess?”

“A little,” Li Hao replied humbly.

“Oh?”

Opposite him, Zhao Zongyuan chuckled, glancing teasingly at Shen Yunqing: “Then tell us—who’s winning?”

Shen Yunqing scowled at him in mock annoyance.

Li Hao stated plainly: “If they continue along the same path, he’ll lose.”

He pointed at Shen Yunqing.

Shen Yunqing’s face flushed slightly, feeling a touch of embarrassment—he now believed the boy truly understood chess. He cleared his throat twice: “I was just here to escort you—I wasn’t focused on the game. Didn’t play well.”

“Go, go, go.”

Had the boy not been present, Zhao Zongyuan might’ve kicked him—now he just rolled his eyes.

Zhao Zongyuan then turned to Li Hao: “According to you, does he still have a chance to win?”

“Yes.”

Li Hao nodded, his voice no longer casual—it became resolute:

“If he changes his strategy, he can win!”

“Oh?”

Zhao Zongyuan had asked teasingly, but now he froze, his smile fading as he said coolly: “Then tell us—how can he win?”

Shen Yunqing was astonished, also curious, staring at Li Hao. Seeing who would win meant he understood basic rules—but seeing a winning path? Ridiculous—he himself couldn’t find any.

“Play here.”

Li Hao tapped a point on the board.

Zhao Zongyuan glanced, smirked slightly, and pointed to an adjacent spot: “What if I play here?”

“Here,” Li Hao replied, pointing again.

“And if I play here?”

“Here.” “I—” Zhao Zongyuan was about to point to a blocking position when his face suddenly stiffened—he stared at the board, eyes flickering uncertainly.

No stones had been placed on those points, yet in his mind, the board was already filled—each spot marked with a stone.

Those moves weren’t extraordinary, let alone decisive—but… there was something subtly strange.

That severed meridian… could be reconnected!

Zhao Zongyuan’s gaze grew heavy. He withdrew his finger, his expression deep in thought.

Beside him, Shen Yunqing had initially seen nothing—but seeing his old friend’s sudden change, he paused, then studied the board closely, analyzing and reflecting. Soon, his eyes gleamed—he looked at Li Hao in disbelief.

These moves truly had the feel of a snake’s mouth linking together!

They’d turned a certain defeat into a sliver of hope! “I’ll play here…” After long thought, Zhao Zongyuan pointed to another spot, intending to sever the dragon’s vein decisively, without further entanglement.

Li Hao seemed to have anticipated it—he raised his hand and pointed again: “Small flying corner—corner breaks the formation.”

If a stone landed there, it would form a flying blade, shattering the killing path! Bam! Shen Yunqing, seeing it, couldn’t help but slap his thigh—this move was brilliant! Why hadn’t he seen it? Why hadn’t he noticed?! Zhao Zongyuan’s pupils contracted slightly. He looked up at Li Hao’s youthful face, feeling a strange disorientation.

This boy, so young—how could his chess skill be so mature, so ruthless?! “Come, come, sit down. You play.”

Shen Yunqing pushed himself up, shifted his seat aside, and said to Li Hao: “Let’s see how far you can go. Even if you lose, it’s fine—if you win, I’ll give you a sip of Zui Feng Niang.”

“Alright.”

Li Hao nodded, not refusing—he’d come here for this very game.

He sat down; the crushed green grass beneath him was still warm.

Zhao Zongyuan frowned deeply, his expression serious. He studied Li Hao for a long moment, no longer wondering how a boy could be so skilled—he stilled his mind and said firmly: “Let’s play.”

Li Hao’s fingers dipped into the chess box, pinching a black stone between his index and middle fingers, placing it on the board.

He filled in the positions he’d indicated earlier.

Opposite him, Zhao Zongyuan remained silent, following with his own move.

The true game began.

In the square, dozens of noble youths and martial prodigies trained their stances and fists, drenched in sweat, vying for a single spot in the Jia or Yi Courtyard.

Yet in this corner, on this tiny board, a fierce battle of deception and slaughter unfolded—each move a blade, each step a killing strike! After a while, the elder’s trembling hand reached into the box, plucking a stone—but after a moment’s shake, it slipped from his fingers and fell.

On Zhao Zongyuan’s aged face, sweat now glistened like that on the young disciples in the square.

The game was settled.

“I… lost.”

Zhao Zongyuan’s voice cracked, strained.

Beside him, Shen Yunqing stared, dumbfounded, at the board. The game that was certain to be lost had been utterly reversed by Li Hao—lost territory reclaimed, relentless attacks advancing, and in the final count, he’d won by one and a half points!

Don’t underestimate such a slim margin—turning a certain defeat into this was simply unbelievable!

“Elder, you’re too kind.”

Li Hao withdrew his hand, bowed slightly, his expression solemn—but after the bow, his demeanor relaxed again.

He was a Level Five chess player, often playing with Fifth Master—he’d rarely faced outside experts. These two’s strength seemed slightly below Fifth Master’s, roughly Level Four.

That was already impressive.

After all, both elders were martial artists—yet they’d devoted time to this side art, reaching such a level, clearly with great passion.

Zhao Zongyuan let out a bitter laugh, glancing at Li Hao as if staring at a monster.

How could this Li family boy’s mind work? He was younger than Zhao Zongyuan had been playing chess—and still beat him? Did chess really depend on talent?

“Incredible, incredible!” Shen Yunqing muttered in awe beside him.

Li Hao smiled: “Just lucky. How about another game?”

Zhao Zongyuan was speechless, muttering: “You haven’t even tested your technique yet. There are few spots in Jia Courtyard—go secure one first.”

“Oh, alright.”

Li Hao snapped back to reality. Though he didn’t care much about the Jia Courtyard spot, avoiding future trouble meant going now.

“Then wait for me, Elder—I’ll be right back.”

Zhao Zongyuan and Shen Yunqing stared at him strangely—why did this boy seem more obsessed with chess than with entering Jia Courtyard?

“Wait for me, okay?”

Li Hao stood, called out once more with lingering concern, then hurried toward the middle-aged man in the square’s center.

(End of Chapter)