Light of the Commoners!

"Brilliant! That punch proved he had indeed held back in the earlier fight. And those words afterward might have sounded like threats to the people trying to morally blackmail him, but they were an even more direct warning to Zhao He's group!"

"This Lu Jue fellow is interesting. East City Martial School has produced quite a figure this time."

In a secluded corner of the stands, a woman in a tight black dress elegantly crossed her legs. Her slender fingers brushed her chin as a flicker of admiration passed through her eyes.

The attendants standing at her sides quickly bowed in agreement.

Just then, a languid voice carrying a hint of amusement came from behind her.

"Miss Qin Shuang, since you have graced us with your presence, why didn't you let us know in advance?"

At some point, Zhao He had appeared behind them. His hands rested casually in his trouser pockets, and though a smile lingered on his lips, his gaze was sharp as a blade.

Qin Shuang did not turn around. Her eyes remained fixed on the arena, her voice cool and clear. "Zhao the Stubborn, one year apart, and all you know now is how to pull these disgraceful little tricks? You won't even spare men?"

"You flatter me, Miss Qin. What do such lowly things have to do with me? You, on the other hand, are a great expert from a city martial school. What brings you to this backwater?"

"I merely stopped by to see my senior sister."

"Your senior sister Su Li is rather overwhelmed these days."

Zhao He abruptly changed the subject. "By the way, you heard yesterday's news, didn't you?"

Qin Shuang's expression instantly tightened. "What?"

"I know what you're planning!"

The smile vanished completely from Zhao He's lips, and a cold gleam flashed in his eyes. "But East City Martial School is my territory. Every Li City quota behind these students can only belong to me!"

"If you intend to reach your hand in here, then even if you are the Qin Family's direct daughter, I don't mind tearing off all pretenses with you!"

A cold light flashed in Qin Shuang's eyes, and the black jade ring on her fingertip gave off a ghostly glimmer.

"Zhao the Stubborn, after a year apart, you've learned to boast."

She slowly rose to her feet, her black skirt flowing like the night itself. "Do you think anything Qin Shuang wants requires your permission!?"

Their gazes clashed in midair. The atmosphere was taut as drawn swords, making their subordinates unconsciously retreat half a step.

The uproar caused by the Jiang Youwei incident had not subsided. Instead, it spread like wildfire.

On the arena, the fragments of the stone sculpture had yet to be cleared away, and the bloodstains had not dried. In the stands, angry murmurs rose and fell without end.

"Did you see that? The power of that punch!"

A student in an old school uniform gestured excitedly. "To blow apart that stone sculpture with one punch, Lu Jue must have held back! Otherwise, Jiang Youwei would have been dead long ago!"

"Exactly! It must have been the work of those Power Elites! They don't see us as people at all!"

Yet there were no shortage of hesitant voices in the crowd.

"But didn't someone testify earlier? Maybe Jiang Youwei's matter really had nothing to do with them?"

"I heard his father really did owe a huge gambling debt."

"Lu Jue is strong. It feels like he could go toe-to-toe with those monsters in the top dozen or so!"

"Oh, give it a rest! Lu Jue is indeed not weak, but even I know the fatal weak point of his body-tempering technique. He can crush someone like Jiang Youwei, but if he meets an opponent on the same level, things will get dicey!"

"Stop talking, he's coming over!"

Lu Jue passed through the crowd. Wherever he went, the clamor seemed cut off by an invisible barrier.

Yet at this moment, his heart was not entirely undisturbed.

Seeing a living person die before him in such a miserable manner still left a trace of heaviness in him.

But he did not regret his choice on the arena.

Showing mercy to an enemy was cruelty to oneself!

If he had to do it again, at most he would change his fighting strategy and knock Jiang Youwei unconscious in one go. He would never pity the other man and allow him to leave wounds on his body.

"Brother Jue, you were so cool just now!"

Liu Ga popped out from nowhere and hurried after Lu Jue, the excitement still lingering on his face.

He deliberately lowered his voice, yet he could not hide the excitement in his tone. "That punch, and those words—you really vented our anger! Did you see the faces of those people trying to morally blackmail you?"

Lu Jue did not stop walking, merely nodding at him.

Liu Ga immediately understood. He put away his exaggerated expression, leaned closer, and lowered his voice further. "By the way, the information on your next opponent is out."

At that moment, the broadcast rang through the venue once more, delivering news that stirred most people to attention.

"Sixth Grade, next match! Arena Two, Fan Jun versus Chen Qianqian!"

The announcement was like a drop of cold water falling into boiling oil, instantly detonating the entire venue!

"He's here! The Light of the Commoners!"

"Fan Jun! Fan Jun! Let those children of the Power Elites see the strength of us commoner students!"

"Senior Student Fan Jun! Go!"

The crowd, which had been enraged by the Jiang Youwei incident only moments ago, seemed to instantly find its pillar. Cheers erupted, several times more fervent than before.

People surged toward Arena Two like a tidal wave. There were not only Sixth Grade students, but also large numbers of lower-grade students racing over. Especially the female students with shining eyes—they screamed and squeezed forward with all their strength, trying to get closer to the arena.

Even the furious protest group outside the gates stirred at this moment.

Quite a few people temporarily put down their signs and crowded to the edge of the barricades around the dueling area. They pulled out their phones one after another, adjusted their angles, and prepared to record this highly anticipated match.

Beneath the focus of countless eyes, a tall, upright young man calmly made his way toward Arena Two.

He was strikingly handsome, with a sunlit air about his brows and eyes. His steps were steady, and every glance seemed to shine. Cheers and shrieks rose wherever he passed, as though an international superstar were being welcomed.

Lu Jue lowered his head and glanced at the match schedule in his hand. Finding that this match had been moved forward by more than ten minutes, he immediately understood.

This student named Fan Jun was a special presence at East City Martial School.

Born into a commoner family, he had nevertheless amassed millions of followers online in just a few years through his breathtakingly handsome appearance and exceptional talent in the Sword Dao.

Unlike other commoner students who had to worry over resources, Fan Jun's income from the internet alone was enough to comfortably support his expensive martial arts training.

This gave him confidence that the vast majority of commoner students could not hope to attain. He could truly focus on martial arts, without having to bend his back for five pecks of rice, much less lower his head to powerful forces as Jiang Youwei had been forced to do.

His strength and sunny image naturally made him a spiritual banner and a source of hope for many commoner students. Many students hailed him as the Light of the Commoners.

This match had clearly been brought forward deliberately by the referees. They were trying to use the immense popularity and positive image of this "commoner idol" to dilute the negative impact of the Jiang Youwei incident and stabilize the nearly uncontrollable emotions at the scene.

Still, Fan Jun's influence was ultimately limited. He might temporarily draw some of the audience's attention, but he could not truly calm the undercurrent of unrest.

Lu Jue's gaze crossed over the noisy arena and turned toward the protesting crowd in the distance, still chanting slogans.

At some unknown point, more than a dozen reporters carrying professional cameras on their shoulders had been cleverly concealed by the protest group and slipped into the school.

The turmoil surrounding this Quota Competition had clearly already spilled beyond the boundaries of the arena.