Standing beside them, Sun Yong heard Zhou Wenbin's suggestion, but shook his head slightly and declined.
He gazed toward the hazy tournament grounds atop the mountain, anticipation in his eyes, and said softly, "There's no need. Jing faces a battle at the very pinnacle in today's semifinal. With a formidable enemy before him, he needs to focus. This is the crucial moment to devote himself to preparing and settling his mind. If we rashly went to disturb him, we would only disrupt his concentration, unsettle his composure, and add needless distractions. It wouldn't be right."
In contests on the Martial Path, the state of mind came first, and inner calm formed the foundation.
Before a great battle, social obligations and interruptions were best avoided.
They would disrupt the prebattle state Yang Jing was cultivating. Sun Yong would rather watch from the ordinary spectator area than disturb him.
Hearing this, Zhou Wenbin nodded slightly and said no more.
He raised his eyes toward the towering summit, thoughts churning within him, his heart filled with shock and wonder.
All the way from Yuhe County, the central topic of every martial artist's heated discussion had been the Heavenly Prodigies of this Jintai Grand Tournament.
And one of the names mentioned most often was none other than Yang Jing.
Throughout their journey, they had heard nothing but praise, amazement, and speculation about tomorrow's great battles.
Zhou Wenbin, Sun Yong, and the others had always known Yang Jing possessed extraordinary talent, but they had never imagined he could fight his way into the final four of the Jintai Grand Tournament.
Only after hearing so many discussions firsthand today did they fully grasp the terrifying heights Yang Jing had now reached.
Who could have expected that the boy from Yuhe County would cut through thorns and