Parting the Clouds, Seeing the Sun

Dongjiang No. 4 Middle School was very wealthy. Their Martial Arts Arena was larger, its facilities better, and it even had massive central air conditioning to regulate the temperature.

Sitting in the visitors' section, Gao Wu could feel warm air constantly rising beneath his feet. Even in his light martial arts uniform, he was beginning to feel hot.

The surrounding stands were already packed. He estimated there were at least four thousand spectators present.

Fourth Middle School's students were clearly better organized as well. Someone was currently leading the entire crowd in song.

Something about "daring to embrace new ideas, aspiring to move forward"—it was probably Fourth Middle School's school anthem. The melody was quite stirring, and with thousands singing together, the magnificent voices surged and rolled through the arena like waves, brimming with momentum.

Huang Long and the other Martial Arts Team members all wore solemn expressions tinged with restraint.

The immense, unified presence gathered by thousands singing together was also the most direct manifestation of a group's organizational power.

Though it was not their first time witnessing such a scene, they still felt somewhat uncomfortable.

Coach Huang Hai, however, paid it no mind. He could gather his source power and forge his spirit into something far more resolute than that of ordinary people. Such a chorus seemed unified, but listening closely revealed a chaotic jumble—how could it possibly shake his resolve?

His gaze swept across his nephew and the others. He saw faint unease on their faces, while Gao Wu alone curiously surveyed the surroundings. His body was upright but not stiff, natural and relaxed. In terms of temperament alone, he already surpassed Huang Hai's nephew and the rest by a great deal.

More importantly, Gao Wu possessed a special physique. His height had visibly increased over this period, and the muscles across his body were tightly strung, his powerful, fierce physique possessing an unusually refined and fluid beauty.

Looking at him now, that kid had likely entered the door of the Dragon-Roaming Sword as well. If he could grow up, becoming an Advanced Martial Artist in the future should not be a problem...

Huang Hai sneered inwardly. Unfortunately, he would not get that chance!

Once the match began, No. 9 Middle School's first three contestants took one opponent down with them. Huang Long, as their trump card, took the stage and easily defeated the other side's vice captain.

Then, after exhausting all his strength, he defeated the opponent's third contestant, their main captain.

Huang Long had achieved such results because he had spent the past few days injecting Advanced Blood Dragon Agent, along with the corresponding Neutralizing Agent. His strength, speed, and every other aspect had improved enormously.

His body, stimulated by the Blood Dragon Agent, was in an extremely excited state, and his perception of pain had been reduced by more than half. In low-level competition, the enhancement provided by drugs was very apparent.

Before Fourth Middle School's trump card, Yang Lin, could even take the stage, Huang Long, who had won two matches in a row, voluntarily stepped down.

Huang Long knew his own limits. No matter how many drugs he took, he could not beat Advanced Martial Artist Yang Lin. He had no desire to be abused.

Losing under the gaze of thousands did not merely mean enduring physical pain. More terrifying was the crushing blow to one's mind.

Yang Lin was handsome, with long legs. Dressed in a pure white martial arts uniform, he looked every bit like a star standing on the ring.

Yet his expression was icy, making him seem difficult to approach. That cool, aloof manner was precisely what made him so popular among young people.

Wave after wave of cheers rose from the surrounding stands, most of them from girls. So many shrill voices converging together created a rather staggering effect.

"Yang Lin practices Pegasus Fist. His legwork is lofty and drifting, his punches fast and powerful, and his endurance long-lasting. Do your best, but do not force yourself."

Huang Hai gave Gao Wu one final reminder. "You are at a critical stage right now. Do not damage your body's foundation."

Gao Wu nodded in agreement. Huang Hai was not much of a qualified coach, really. His explanation of the opponent's traits had been far too simple, and he had not said how Pegasus Fist ought to be countered.

That final concerned remark made him feel something was off, yet for the moment, he could not say exactly what was wrong...

Yang Lin coldly watched Gao Wu climb onto the ring. This guy whose reputation had recently risen like a comet—a guy who loved making videos and putting on a show, a poor man born at the bottom of society who could only inject low-grade drugs and risk his life.

Unfortunately, Gao Wu's aptitude and talent were mediocre. No matter how much an ordinary person like him struggled, he would never shine.

The loose, softly draping black martial arts uniform outlined Gao Wu's tall, straight figure perfectly. Yang Lin felt that he was clearly a little taller than he had appeared in the videos. Even though Gao Wu's smile was as bright as sunlight, Yang Lin still felt oppressed.

Yang Lin knew Gao Wu was already an Advanced Martial Artist. He could only sigh that poor people from the bottom truly were not afraid of death!

To raise a mediocre youth from an Intermediate Martial Artist to an Advanced Martial Artist in only a few dozen days—it was easy to imagine how tyrannical the drugs he had used must have been.

Realizing this, Yang Lin grew somewhat wary. Even if the other man had become an Advanced Martial Artist through drugs, he could not be underestimated. Yang Lin was fighting on home ground; he could not lose to this guy.

Some spectators around them recognized Gao Wu as well. "Hey, isn't that that little internet celebrity?"

"What internet celebrity? He's just some minor streamer."

"He thinks he can fight our big brother? He's courting death!"

"Still, he's pretty handsome!"

"Are you stupid? What does some little online streamer have to compare with our big brother?"

A group of girls had all made Yang Lin their idol. Hearing someone praise Gao Wu, they immediately snapped back with sharp, cutting insults.

These female fans were extremely united and highly proactive. Whether others agreed with them or not, no one was willing to provoke them.

On the ring, the referee inspected Gao Wu's mouthguard, headband, and shoes. After confirming there were no issues, he announced the start of the match.

Gao Wu and Yang Lin cupped their fists in greeting. Neither rushed to attack; they circled each other, probing cautiously.

Fighting at home, Yang Lin had no choice but to make the first move amid the spectators' incessant cheers. He stepped forward and threw a straight punch.

When Yang Lin's fist shot out, his sinews and bones rang in unison. The air before his fist boomed explosively. Before his fist even reached Gao Wu, the howling wind of the punch had already swept up Gao Wu's hair.

Gao Wu narrowed his eyes slightly against the impact of the fist wind. His opponent was imposing. The punch was like an ancient general seated atop a horse, thrusting a spear at an enemy—his body was the horse, his fist the spear.

An Advanced Martial Artist from a great Lineage truly was different. His foundation in martial arts was profound, and the essence of an exquisite fist technique was already revealed in every gesture.

By comparison, Gao Wu had practiced the Dragon-Roaming Sword and Dragon-Roaming Palm for too short a time. In terms of mastery of fist techniques, he truly could not match Yang Lin.

Fortunately, his physique was powerful, and he had the Azure Dragon Divine Qi Incantation enhancing him. That was something no Advanced Martial Artist could compare with. His 9.3 strength stat also gave him a firm edge over Yang Lin.

Facing Yang Lin's spear-like fist, Gao Wu planted all ten toes into the ground, bent his knees slightly, sank his waist to store power, and crossed his arms diagonally in a stable block, firmly receiving Yang Lin's punch.

Yang Lin's fist struck Gao Wu's forearm, numbing his own knuckles slightly from the impact. Even his spear-like long punch could not penetrate Gao Wu's defense.

He had anticipated this. Without hesitation, he launched a chain of punches, his body taut as a bow, his fists like a volley of arrows raining down—fast, urgent, and fierce.

Yet Gao Wu received the storm-like assault with Closing the Door and Declining Guests from the Dragon-Roaming Palm. His arms shut tight like doors, while his body adjusted with each blow, deflecting force and retreating.

Closing the Door was defense; Declining Guests was evasion. His defense was watertight, while his retreat was light and swift.

No matter how ferocious Yang Lin's attack was, he could do nothing to Gao Wu.

It was not that Gao Wu's Dragon-Roaming Palm had reached some miraculous level. Mainly, his strength exceeded Yang Lin's by twenty to thirty percent, his agility was not much worse, and his physique far surpassed Yang Lin's. He handled the assault with great composure.

Yang Lin's wild barrage had thrown more than a hundred punches. Even with his lasting endurance, he could not withstand such expenditure. His breathing began to grow hurried. He was getting anxious as well. He had intended to use Pegasus Fist to forcibly break Gao Wu's defense, but he had never expected Gao Wu to be so tough.

If this stalemate continued, his stamina would be the first to fail.

Taking advantage of a punch that forced Gao Wu back, Yang Lin raised his leg and swept at Gao Wu's ribs. The kick came extraordinarily elusive. Gao Wu had no time to block, so he could only draw in his breath, contract his abdomen, tense his muscles, and take the kick head-on.

With a muffled bang, Gao Wu's body was swept sideways to the left.

Seeing Yang Lin land a hit, another wave of shrill cheers erupted from the venue.

Seizing the moment, Yang Lin twisted his knee and changed lines into a diagonal kick, his curved foot like a hook as it viciously chopped toward the base of Gao Wu's neck.

Gao Wu adjusted at the same time. He ignored Yang Lin's changing-line kick and instead thrust a palm blade straight toward Yang Lin's chest.

Yang Lin's hooked leg struck the base of Gao Wu's neck first, but it failed to knock Gao Wu down. He crossed his arms to block Gao Wu's palm blade, but Gao Wu's arm was like a snake slipping into grass. Following the gap between Yang Lin's arms, it curved and folded before piercing through. His fingertips, pressed together like a blade, landed squarely on Yang Lin's chest.

This was Piercing the Clouds from the Dragon-Roaming Sword, taking the Dragon-Roaming Sword's agile, winding transformations amid a sea of clouds.

More than twelve hundred kilograms of force was transmitted through his fingertips, making it far more damaging than a fist.

Though Yang Lin inhaled and drew back his chest, deflecting more than half the force, the strike still sent agonizing pain through his heart. His handsome face twisted out of shape, and his movements abruptly stalled.

Having landed a blow, Gao Wu gave Yang Lin no chance to react. He flipped his palm blade and struck Yang Lin's chest with the heel of his palm.

This was Parting the Clouds from the Dragon-Roaming Palm, its essence resting on the word "parting."

Parting the Clouds was merely the usual form; there were all manner of variations, such as horizontal parting and vertical parting. Its true subtlety lay in its concealed, swift release of force. Yang Lin's body, which had barely stabilized, was shoved by the heel of Gao Wu's palm and immediately lost balance, staggering backward.

At that moment, Yang Lin's guard was wide open, and he no longer had the strength to defend. Gao Wu followed through, stepping forward and exerting force as both palms lifted upward, striking squarely beneath Yang Lin's chin.

The human jaw was dense with nerves and extremely fragile. Gao Wu's Seeing the Sun naturally followed after Parting the Clouds, and his two palms carried more than a thousand kilograms of force.

Struck by such a violent impact, Yang Lin's head jerked sharply backward. He fainted on the spot, flew backward several meters, and smashed heavily onto the ground...

The reversal came too quickly. The home crowd was still cheering Yang Lin on when Gao Wu's Pushing the Moon, with both palms, seemed to strike the throats of every spectator present, cutting off every cheer and shout at once!