Assessment Ahead of Schedule

That same day, at one in the afternoon.

Chen Feng finished lunch, took a brief rest to digest, then grabbed his boxing clothes and left the house.

Sanshou Mastery, Judo Proficient.

Punching power exceeded 130kg.

Without realizing it, he already possessed the strength of an amateur eighth-dan.

And in his heart, confidence was gradually building.

"Tomorrow's the assessment."

"Going to the Martial Arts Hall today—I can scope out everyone else's level."

The thought flashed through his mind. Though Chen Feng was confident his current self could take first place, he still wanted to play it safe.

Tap, tap!

With steady footsteps, he walked out through the residential building's stairwell exit.

Rows of fruit wholesale shops appeared before him—watermelons, bananas, grapes, White Pear.

Both sides of the road were packed with cargo trucks, parked left and right, clogging the street to a standstill. Horns blared every now and then.

"Hey, you up ahead—move your car, you're blocking the way."

"Got it, got it. Coming."

"Old Zhang, hurry up and move it!"

Shouts and noise filled the air. Scenes like this played out countless times.

Chen Feng was used to it. He was about to keep walking.

Tap!

He took a step forward.

But suddenly, his gaze flickered.

"Again?"

A strange sensation stirred in his heart. Chen Feng once again detected a faint trace of malice.

Cold. Indifferent.

He paused mid-step, then turned and walked toward the nearest fruit shop, pretending to pick out fruit. Casually, he tilted his head to look.

Two figures stood across the street, beneath a utility pole.

One tall, one fat. Dressed differently—one in a dark short-sleeve, the other in a black shirt. Both had cigarettes clamped between their teeth, staring directly at his position.

One glance was enough. Chen Feng confirmed they were the same two men from last night outside the hotpot restaurant, the ones who'd driven off in a black car.

"They're tailing me?"

A flicker of doubt and wariness crossed his eyes. Chen Feng casually grabbed a plastic bag and picked out five or six White Pears, each bigger than a fist.

"How much, boss?"

"Twenty-three seventy. Just give me twenty-four."

Chen Feng raised an eyebrow at the shopkeeper.

"Move your car, move your car! Don't park it in front of my shop—I've got people coming to load up soon!"

A shout of impatience came from across the street. Chen Feng's eyes shifted. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the two stalkers stub out their cigarettes.

The fatter one, visibly annoyed, glared at the fruit shop's owner as if he was about to start something.

"He's right across the street. Don't let him notice."

The taller one grabbed his companion and muttered low, subtly gesturing at their surroundings.

The other backed off. The two got into the black car one after another and soon drove away, disappearing at the end of the street.

Seeing This, Chen Feng withdrew his gaze.

He confirmed the license plate. Same black car as last night.

"Hey kid, that's how we do business—rounding up."

"If it were under fifty cents, I'd definitely knock it off for you."

The fruit shop owner explained with a chuckle. Chen Feng shook his head inwardly.

He hated that kind of reverse rounding.

"Twenty-three, and I'll pay."

"Too low, too low—no profit margin like that."

Chen Feng turned to leave.

"Hey, hey, fine—twenty-three."

After Speaking, Chen Feng didn't waste any more words with him.

He scanned the code to pay, then picked up the plastic bag of White Pears and walked away.

"Who could it be?"

On the road, he took the bus and arrived near the Martial Arts Hall.

Chen Feng got off at the back door and no longer sensed the earlier malice.

But the more this happened, the more vigilant his gaze became.

Once was fine—it could be a coincidence.

But twice in a row, and both times appearing right outside his apartment building.

This forced him to suspect whether someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes, or if he had somehow offended someone again.

Tap, tap!

Then, just as these thoughts flashed through his mind, footsteps slowly drew closer.

"What's up with you? You look like your mind's a million miles away."

Lin Hao wore a loose black casual short-sleeve shirt and white sneakers, carrying his baseball bag slung over his shoulder as usual.

He seemed ordinary in dress, but carried a certain air.

"Oh, you brought fruit to the Martial Arts Hall."

"What, trying to bribe the coach?"

Lin Hao said with a grin, his tone full of teasing.

Seeing this, Chen Feng thought it over and decided not to beat around the bush.

"I've run into some trouble. I want to ask for your help," he said bluntly.

"Oh?"

Lin Hao raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I want you to help me look up a license plate number."

Chen Feng thought of the intelligence-gathering ability Lin Hao had shown before, his expression serious.

This was the best idea he could come up with for now—to probe the background of those two men, making it easier to plan his next moves.

"Pfft, is that all?"

Lin Hao's face relaxed, visibly relieved.

"Alright, leave it to me. Send me the plate number on WeiChat later."

Chen Feng nodded. He had considered asking for this favor over the phone, but felt it was safer to speak face-to-face.

"So, these pears are for me, right?"

Lin Hao asked with a sly grin, quick on the uptake and already sure of the answer.

"A small token."

Chen Feng nodded, mentally noting this debt of gratitude.

Lin Hao chuckled, didn't waste words, and casually took the bag of fruit.

"Alright, I'll take it."

The atmosphere eased, and the two walked side by side into the Martial Arts Hall.

Tap, tap—their footsteps echoed, but soon after they came out of the Locker Room, they sensed something unusual in the air.

"There's an expert at the Martial Arts Hall."

"I heard it's someone from the assessment team. Coach Lu is receiving them in the Meditation Room."

"Aren't they supposed to come tomorrow?"

"How should I know!"

The trainees on the Practice Field weren't practicing their punches as usual.

In fact, Chen Feng could tell most of them were distracted, whispering among themselves.

Even Xu Dongtai and Zheng Qiang in the distance stood still, their expressions varied.

"Looks like the news is true."

Suddenly, Lin Hao murmured something under his breath, and Chen Feng turned to look at him.

"I forgot to mention earlier—the Core Disciple assessment seems to have been moved up."

As the Words Fell, Chen Feng was taken aback.

Moved up?

Meaning it was starting today?

Tap, tap, tap!

Just as he was puzzling over this, footsteps Sounding Continuously could be heard.

Four figures walked slowly forward, their gazes sharp, their heights varying.

Coach Lu, usually so imposing, now seemed like nothing more than a foil, standing at the very edge to lead the way while apparently speaking to them about something.

In an instant, with just one look, Chen Feng clearly sensed that the other three were definitely experts.

At least Professional Grade!

Beyond that—

"Hmm?"

His gaze sharpened. Chen Wei actually spotted a somewhat familiar figure among those three.

A burly, heavy-set build, nearly 1.9 meters tall.

A square face, a high nose bridge, a crew cut.

Thick lips, eyes bright and piercing.

It was none other than the blogger he had watched in a judo tutorial video on his phone just a few days ago.

A core member of Yan Wu Academy—Cao Tong!