Provincial Examination (4)

The second round followed immediately after the first, without the slightest pause.

Continuous combat was commonplace for martial artists. Who would stop after testing their strength just once?

Yin Group.

The first examinee stepped forward.

This was the examinee who had previously received "Grade A Middle." The data "18~26" floated above his head.

This time, he chose the Iron Man Formation as his main challenge.

Iron men possessed tremendous strength and weight behind their attacks, but were somewhat slower, making them more forgiving. Unlike the wooden men, where the slightest carelessness would add a white mark to their lacquered coats.

The wooden men wore lacquered coats, while the iron men were clad in porcelain armor. If one failed to obtain a Grade A result in the first round, then in the second round, the moment five pieces of armor shattered, one would be eliminated on the spot.

The examinee drew a deep breath. His qi and blood steamed throughout his body, yet did not spread to any particular part of it.

Doing so kept the heat evenly distributed and prevented him from exposing any weaknesses.

After all, once he entered the formation, iron hands would strike from every direction. If one of those iron hands swept across him, it might not merely shatter a single piece of porcelain. One blow could easily break five or six pieces at once, eliminating him on the spot.

Strictly speaking, this round was not testing "killing techniques."

Killing techniques mobilized heat to temporarily strengthen a particular part of the body, but the price was exposing weaknesses elsewhere.

There was no helping it...

There was only so much heat, and only so much qi and blood.

The saying that two fists could not withstand four hands applied just as well to Eighth Rank martial artists.

The examinee entered the formation.

The formation was only about twenty zhang across, which amounted to roughly a hundred paces.

Bang!

Bang!

The Iron Man Formation began to rotate.

Every iron man in the formation was equipped with two fists and two legs, and they were divided into "regular" and "irregular" types.

Their mechanism was devilishly tricky. Whenever an examinee raised a hand to block an iron arm, the struck iron man would spin around, turning its original clockwise sweep into a counterclockwise strike.

During the first forty-five paces, there were not many iron men. For the most part, the examinee faced two regular iron men at once, whose hands and feet were positioned at fixed, symmetrical points.

The examinee passed through smoothly.

During the middle forty-five paces, the number of iron men doubled, forcing him to face four regular iron men at once.

When the examinee had reached seventy paces, he carelessly took a blow to the back.

Crack, crack...

Two pieces of porcelain armor shattered with a crisp sound.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through his clothes. The examinee forcibly steadied his mind, held his breath, gathered his qi, and struggled through another twenty paces.

Then he reached the final ten paces.

The difficulty rose sharply during the final ten paces. He had to face four irregular iron men, and the design of each one's hands and feet—even their movement paths and speeds—was modeled after the martial arts of a different martial hall.

The moment he stepped in, it was equivalent to facing attacks from four "sluggish versions" of martial artists from different martial halls. The difficulty rose sharply.

Qi Yu watched in silence.

The "secret manual for the Provincial Examination" his older female cousin had given him had mentioned this long ago: in the Wooden Man Formation and the Iron Man Formation, the first forty-five paces were for warming up, while the middle forty-five were for preserving one's dignity. Even if one lost there, one could still sigh, "Ah, I was almost finished. I only fell short at the very end," sparing martial artists with unsteady hearts from having their martial resolve damaged.

The Provincial Examination aimed to select talent, not destroy it.

But in truth... the final ten paces were the real examination.

Every step there demanded several times the hardship of the steps before it.

Bang!

A dull, heavy crash erupted.

It was followed closely by a string of shattering sounds—crack, crack, crack, crack!!

The first examinee knew it was over. The color drained from his face in an instant, leaving him on the verge of tears and utterly helpless. He quickly withdrew from the Iron Man Formation from the side. Without even bothering to count how many pieces of porcelain armor had shattered, he tore off the armor and hurried away without looking back.

The porcelain armor and lacquered coats were issued one per person and included in the registration fee.

A minor official loudly announced, "Yin One, White Ape Martial Hall, Yu Kai, Grade C!"

The words "martial hall" and his name rang out like a slap. The examinee's ears flushed crimson, and he wished he could vanish into the ground.

What he had lost was not merely his own face, but the dignity of his martial hall as well.

Just as he was leaving in shame, a few Lineage stewards still stepped forward to recruit him.

If an examinee passed as a Martial Scholar, they would instead have to consider carefully.

After all, a Martial Scholar held an official distinction. Bringing one into a Lineage came at no small cost, often involving positions such as Attendant, chief of the guards, commander, or even a marriage alliance.

But if one failed, things became much simpler. Many martial artists who failed the Provincial Examination, in order to maintain their subsequent cultivation, would choose to serve major Lineages, seeking a position as a guard or taking an honorary title. It was still a path forward.

At the examination grounds, the tests continued.

The minor official's announcements rose and fell without pause:

"Yin Two, Iron Fist Martial Hall, Zhao Changpeng, Second Class, Lower Grade."

"Yin Three, Shi Family, Shi Yong, Second Class, Middle Grade..."

When the honest-looking man heard his result, he excitedly threw up his arms and shouted, "I passed! I passed!"

He practically charged out of the end of the formation, running, jumping, and waving his fists as he hurried toward the viewing chamber where his Lineage was seated.

If the first round was a screening that accepted nine out of ten, then the second round was a brutal trial in which only one out of every six or seven could stand out.

Once one passed this round, one possessed a true Martial Scholar distinction.

As for the third round, that was a stage reserved for true geniuses.

Soon, it was Qi Yu's turn.

Qi Yu began with the Iron Man Formation.

After observing the others just now, he was certain he could pass both formations without using heat.

It was not brute force. Rather, the Divine and Demon Stake stance within Hunyuan Contending Force gave his body extraordinarily nimble reflexes. When faced with attacks, he instinctively used strange postures to evade them.

During the first forty-five paces of these iron man stakes, they probably could not even touch the hem of his clothes.

For the next forty-five paces, one hand would be enough.

During the final ten paces, he would need both hands.

However, even geniuses had different grades.

I'll just be an ordinary genius. I can't be too outrageous.

Qi Yu decided to be low-key despite making a strong impression.

Thus, he drew a deep breath and stepped into the Iron Man Formation.

Numerous gazes converged on him.

Soon, discussions broke out all around.

"This boy... he's actually being so reckless, entering with one hand?"

"Look, he's finally using both hands."

"The final ten paces. No matter how arrogant he is, he'll have to take them seriously."

"He's nervous! He's nervous!"

Countless gazes at the edge of the arena focused on him. Many examinees who had already failed held their breaths, hoping to hear the crisp crack that symbolized defeat.

But it never came.

Not a single piece of porcelain armor shattered.

Below the platform, Sun Li folded his arms and sneered from the side. "And he said he didn't use banned drugs? He can't even pretend convincingly!"

Yet under everyone's watchful eyes, Qi Yu calmly walked through the Iron Man Formation, changed into a black martial outfit, and stepped into the Wooden Man Formation.

The wooden men were agile and swift, their fists and feet moving like the wind, yet they still failed to leave even the slightest white mark on his robes.

"Yin Six, Qi Family, Qi Yu, Grade A Top!"

As the minor official's high-pitched announcement rang out, Sun Li grew even more displeased.

He continued, "He took banned drugs. Even some random cat or dog can pass with those. What use is that?"

However, not even the people around him paid him any attention.

Sun Li felt embarrassed by his own lack of audience and fell silent.

After a long while...

Sun Li took the field. After doing his utmost to perform, he received only a "Second Class, Lower Grade" rating. Combined with the "Grade A Middle" he had received in the first round, his overall result ranked as "Second Class, Middle Grade," which was enough to scrape through the Provincial Examination.

He left the field sullenly. His sinister gaze found Qi Yu, and he wanted to approach him and throw out a few harsh words. But he discovered that Qi Yu had not glanced at him even once from beginning to end, so he awkwardly returned to the independent viewing chamber of the Qi Family's second branch.

Inside the viewing chamber, the atmosphere had congealed.

The incense burner had rolled to the floor, scattering ash everywhere. Madam Peng Wenhua sat upright in the seat of honor, her face frosted over.

The other three martial artists who had entered the examination had long since stood to one side with their heads hanging in dejection.

Clearly, every one of them had been defeated. Not a single one qualified to enter the third round.

Sun Li remembered the "military pledge" he had made earlier and felt deeply regretful. His heart jolted with fear, and he dropped to one knee. "This subordinate was incompetent... I failed to stop that wastrel."

Peng Wenhua did not even raise her eyelids. "Did he use the drugs or not?"

Sun Li clenched his teeth. "He definitely did! There's no way he could be that capable!"

"I'm asking you whether he used them or not." Peng Wenhua enunciated each word, her gaze sharp as needles.

Sun Li's body trembled, and his scalp prickled. "Perhaps... probably he did. This subordinate... this subordinate doesn't know the truth. I only saw how eye-catching his performance was in the first round, so I wanted to drag him down for an inspection under the pretext of banned drugs and ruin his examination..."

After saying that, he hurriedly added, "I did this for Brother Feng, all for—"

Peng Wenhua cut him off. "Then he didn't."

Sun Li dropped to both knees with a thud and pressed his forehead to the floor. "Madam, save me! This subordinate has been utterly loyal to the second branch and to Brother Feng!"

Peng Wenhua pondered briefly, a thoughtful look appearing in her eyes. Then she suddenly said, "Go withdraw your accusation."

Sun Li froze. "This..."

A false accusation... followed by withdrawing it, amounted to disrupting the examination grounds. He would still be beaten with fifty military rods, have the offense recorded, and lose his official distinction, never to be employed again.

Peng Wenhua spoke gently. "Following Feng'er does not necessarily require an official distinction. Go. I'll tell Feng'er about what happened today. We have both seen your loyalty."

"Yes... Madam."

Peng Wenhua added, "Go apologize to Qi Yu right now. Say that you acted on your own, damaged the harmony of the Qi Family, and ask him to spare you."

Her voice gradually lowered, but by the end it had become stern. "If he refuses to spare you, keep kneeling."

Sun Li said, "Madam, he's nothing more than a mere wastrel..."

"Are you going or not?"

Peng Wenhua's tone no longer carried any emotion.

"This subordinate will go, I'll go..."

Sun Li regretted it so bitterly that his intestines turned green, but there was no other way out now. With a long sigh, he hurried out of the viewing chamber.

Once he had left, Peng Wenhua immediately summoned a trusted guard and instructed him in a low voice, "Quickly report the situation here in detail to the military commandant, and ask him to meet the old master at once. Tell him... the third branch's offspring performed outstandingly. Since he has passed the martial examination, he ought to serve the Lineage and be inducted into the Poison Water Army."

"Yes, Madam!"

The trusted aide accepted the order and departed.

Only then did Peng Wenhua slowly rise and walk to the window. Her icy gaze turned toward the noisy examination grounds in the distance, a plan already settled in her heart.

"The first and third branches have poured so many resources into him. This eldest nephew... can no longer be suppressed.

"Since that's the case, it's better to retreat in order to advance.

"Let him join the Poison Water Army and become a Squad Leader.

"Feng'er is a Brigade General, and his command is in urgent need of junior officers.

"Take in this third younger brother of his and keep him in the army, under Feng'er's direct control... With such an arrangement, no one will be able to say I've done a single thing wrong."

"Hmph, eldest nephew, it's not that your aunt is heartless. It's that your third branch insisted on fighting for this opportunity. Now the opportunity has been given to you. Whether you... understand the greater good and can seize it will be up to you."

When Qi Yu returned to the viewing chamber a short distance away,

there was still some time before the third round, so he could rest for a while.

By the window, Qi Zhao stood leaning against the railing in an apricot-yellow dress, her gaze flickering.

She had clearly seen a guard leave the second branch's viewing chamber.

Qi Zhao snorted coldly, a trace of icy laughter curling at the corner of her lips. Aunt, do you think you're the only one who knows how to scheme?

She turned around and looked back, only to see the youth sitting upright in a large chair inside the chamber, eyes slightly closed and breathing long and steady.

The midday sunlight filtered through the window lattice, gilding his body in a layer of pale gold. He was as tranquil as a divine statue enshrined in a temple.

Remembering Qi Yu's performance earlier, Qi Zhao could not help feeling a trace of relief. My younger cousin really has been reborn...