Great Ancestor Long Fist

Vice Dean's Office.

A young instructor rushed in.

"It's bad, it's bad, Dean! The genius you asked me to keep an eye on and protect is fighting Tie Lang."

Ye Sheng felt a headache coming on at the news.

First, he had slapped Shen Fei in the face, then thrown him on his butt. At noon, he had taken care of Shen Xiu, and now he was picking a fight with Tie Lang. The kid wasn't just a genius—he was a troublemaker, too.

"Go over there and keep an eye on things. Don't let Tie Lang hurt Chang Ping. I'll be there shortly."

Martial Arts Training Ground.

The red and blue teams took their stances, ready to go at it.

Chang Ping wore a red vest, while Instructor Tie Lang wore a blue one. They stared each other down, as evenly matched as two fierce tigers, neither willing to back down.

"I don't even need these to beat you." Tie Lang looked down on Chang Ping and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Instructor Tie Lang is awesome!"

"Beat him to a pulp, Instructor Tie Lang! Give our noble students something to be proud of!"

"Don't hold back! Beat him until he can't show his face. I'll pay his medical bills!"

The noble students from the Beginner Warrior Class howled.

"Keep running your mouth!" Chang Ping roared. He clenched his fists and lunged forward like a tiger bursting from its cage, swinging a powerful right hook at Tie Lang's square face.

Tie Lang leaned back quickly, nimbly dodging the attack as he kicked out.

Pain shot through Chang Ping's abdomen. He staggered back two or three steps, his expression turning grave.

He brushed the dirt off his stomach, inwardly startled. This man is actually stronger than me. No wonder he can teach at Saint Orchid Academy—he really knows his stuff. But fighting isn't just about strength. Technique matters, too.

Though it seemed...he wasn't any better off in technique, either.

Chang Ping summoned the Exchange Shop and traded for a Silver-ranked boxing style: Great Ancestor Long Fist.

The moment two thousand Strength Value points were deducted, Chang Ping mastered Great Ancestor Long Fist completely. He was now as skilled as an old boxing master who had spent decades practicing the style.

A boxing style's rank wasn't determined by its power, but by the minimum requirements to practice it. Great Ancestor Long Fist was a Silver-ranked style, which meant it could only be practiced by someone with at least one-star Silver strength—or a thousand pounds of strength.

Chang Ping was now a Silver Peak Warrior, so he was more than qualified to practice it.

Great Ancestor Long Fist consisted of thirty-two moves. Plain and unadorned, simple and direct, its moves might seem basic, but they contained the principles of boxing. That was why it was known as "the mother of a hundred fists."

Chang Ping closed the Exchange Shop and took his stance again.

"Why does Brother Chang feel a little different from before? Or am I imagining it?" Lu Piao scratched his head.

On the platform, Tie Lang gave a disdainful snort. "All show!"

Chang Ping stood completely still, so Tie Lang had no choice but to attack. If he waited any longer, class would be over.

Tie Lang feinted with a left front kick, then prepared to sweep at Chang Ping's legs with a right roundhouse kick.

But Chang Ping had already seen through his moves.

"Down you go!"

Chang Ping suddenly slid forward, turned sideways, and grabbed Tie Lang's thigh. Then he swept at Tie Lang's supporting leg.

Tie Lang lost his balance and crashed heavily onto the platform with a thud. His throat tightened, and he let out a muffled groan.

If he hadn't been so arrogant and had used his hands, he could have grabbed Chang Ping's clothes before falling. Then he wouldn't have hit the ground so hard.

Chang Ping had taken Tie Lang down, leaving all the students below the platform dumbfounded.

"Is this for real? I'm not dreaming, am I? Somebody pinch me."

"Instructor Tie Lang actually got knocked down! He's a Gold Warrior!"

"Instructor Tie Lang, why were you acting so tough? Now you've gone and gotten yourself caught out!"

On the platform, Tie Lang rolled his neck and sprang back to his feet with a kip-up. He flashed a neat row of white teeth and grinned. "Well done, kid. I underestimated you. Again!"

Thud!

Tie Lang fell again, stunned.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! I'm a Gold Warrior. How could I lose to some punk? Again!"

Thud!

This time, Tie Lang landed flat on his face.

"Again!" He slammed the platform and scrambled back to his feet.

That had to be a hallucination! Yeah, that's it. It had to be!

"Ah—!"

Chang Ping grabbed Tie Lang by both shins, spun him around like a windmill, and flung him off the platform.

The students scattered in every direction, and Tie Lang hit the ground with a slap.

Lu Piao picked up a long blade of grass, squatted down, and poked Tie Lang's square face with it.

"Quit messing around!"

Hearing that Tie Lang could still speak and hadn't been killed by the fall, everyone relaxed.

The Martial Arts Training Ground suddenly fell deathly silent.

"Hey, say something."

"What the hell do you want me to say? I'm so shocked I can't say anything!"

"Besides 'awesome,' I can't think of a thing."

"Could this guy be the reincarnation of some legendary Demon Spirit Master?"

Shen Yue looked as if his father had just died. He had expected to see Chang Ping get pinned to the ground and beaten, but the exact opposite had happened.

Damn it. What on earth did this guy grow up eating? He's an absolute beast—he even wrecked an instructor. If he finds out I poisoned him, my fate will be miserable. Shen Yue couldn't help worrying about what he was planning to do next.

"So barbaric!" Ye Zi Yun huffed. She had been worried Chang Ping might get hurt, but now it seemed there had been no need.

Xiao Ning'er stared at Chang Ping without blinking, her big, watery eyes filled with admiration. If I could be as strong as him, I could control my own fate and wouldn't have to marry that playboy Shen Fei.

"That was incredible, Brother Chang! I want to have your babies!" Lu Piao cupped a megaphone in his hands and screamed at the top of his lungs, not caring that everyone else was looking at him like he was an idiot.

Chang Ping was speechless. Lu Piao, you're such a flirt...

Outside the Martial Arts Training Ground, Vice Dean Ye Sheng arrived at last.

"How are things? Is Chang Ping hurt?" Ye Sheng asked anxiously. Chang Ping was a once-in-a-century cultivation genius. He absolutely couldn't let anything happen to him!

The young instructor gave a wry smile. "He's fine, but Tie Lang's in a bad way. Look—he's been lying there without moving for ages."

What did you say?

Ye Sheng froze. Chang Ping had actually defeated Tie Lang, a Gold Warrior? That was absurd.

Still, he had dared to hit an instructor in front of everyone. That was a serious violation of the rules and had to be punished!

Ye Sheng cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back, and slowly walked into the Martial Arts Training Ground.

When Tie Lang noticed Ye Sheng arriving, he suddenly sprang to his feet, despite having played dead until then.

"Dean!!!" He clung to Ye Sheng's leg, sitting crookedly on the ground as he wept pitifully, like a child weighing over two hundred pounds.

Ye Sheng awkwardly stroked his beard, then glared sternly at Chang Ping on the platform. "Get down here!"

"Oh," Chang Ping replied, then leaped down in front of Ye Sheng.

"Apologize!" Ye Sheng pointed at Tie Lang and ordered him firmly.

Chang Ping shrugged. "Sorry, Instructor Tie Lang. I didn't realize you were so useless, too. I hadn't even started trying, and you were already down."

Everyone: ???

Was that supposed to be an apology?

Tie Lang flew into a rage and jumped to his feet.

"Dean, I request another match with Student Chang Ping. This time, we'll use weapons."

"Sure!" Chang Ping flashed a row of small white teeth and slowly pulled a Desert Eagle from his pocket.