Second Round

Fang Hai remained unfazed by Xu Liqing's coldness; he was here to stir up trouble today.

His gaze shifted to Cui Hao, his smile growing warmer, like a benevolent righteous man. "You must be Junior Brother Cui Hao Cui, correct? I've heard much about you, and meeting you in person, you truly have a solid foundation and extraordinary potential."

He took a step forward, lowering his voice, yet it carried a clear allure. "Mastering Mortal Martial allows one to draw a four-stone bow. Such talent, to merely stay in Hongzhan Martial School and follow the established path, is truly a waste."

"If you are willing to transfer to my Fang Family Martial Arts School, six bags of top-grade Qi and Blood Powder per month is just the starting point. We'll provide ample medicinal meals and meat, and my father himself will personally guide you through the essentials of the 'Wind and Cloud Palm'. On the path of martial arts, one step ahead means every step is ahead. You should understand this principle, Junior Brother."

"Junior Brother Cui!" Sun Cheng's face changed, and he quickly interjected, "Don't listen to his nonsense! How can you lightly abandon the grace of your sect's teachings!"

Fang Hai glanced sideways at Sun Cheng, his tone carrying a seemingly regretful pity. "Senior Brother Sun, your own future is set. Why must you block Junior Brother Cui from reaching for a higher branch? Staying at Hongzhan, he will forever be second to Xiao Li, a perpetual runner-up. Come to my Fang family, and you'll be the core, with resources tilted your way. How can your future compare?"

Cui Hao sneered inwardly. A martial artist switching allegiance to another sect was a major taboo, akin to severing ties with their original circle, ruining their reputation, and making them inferior wherever they went.

Fang Hai's move, while seemingly a temptation, was actually a heart-piercing strike.

By publicly embarrassing Xu Liqing and Hongzhan Martial School, he could also cripple a potential opponent. It was a truly insidious tactic.

Maintaining a neutral expression, Cui Hao clasped his fists again, his tone steady but leaving no room for negotiation. "Thank you for your kind offer, Senior Brother Fang. However, I deeply remember the grace of my master's teachings and the camaraderie of my fellow disciples. For now, I only wish to focus on my training with a clear mind, and I have no other intentions."

Fang Hai's smile visibly faded.

Before approaching, he had already ascertained that this Cui Hao came from the impoverished Willow Tree Village, a standard "mud-legged" background. He had offered such generous terms, and the man dared to refuse?

With a cold snort, Fang Hai turned and left.

Sun Cheng finally let out a sigh of relief and leaned closer to Cui Hao, whispering, "Junior Brother, you might not know, but Fang Hai once pursued our Senior Sister and was rejected. He's held a grudge ever since and targets our martial school at every opportunity."

"You've embarrassed him today, and he will surely hold a grudge. He might cause trouble for you later, so be careful."

Beside them, Xu Liqing's cheeks flushed slightly, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. She said softly, "Sun Cheng is right, be careful."

After speaking, Xu Liqing quickly left.

Together with Sun Cheng, they walked out of the temple square to find a place to eat.

Early afternoon, the war drums sounded again.

The second practical combat session of Mortal Martial began with a gong!

The atmosphere in the square was even more fervent than in the morning, restless, with even a faint hint of blood in the air.

Shouts, the crack of bones, the heavy impact of fists and feet, occasional groans and cries of pain, all mixed with the swirling dust, painted a brutal and realistic picture of martial advancement.

Many who had failed in the first round had bloodshot eyes, fighting desperately, trying to defy fate in this last chance to seize the cultivation resources that could change their lives!

Cui Hao's number was called early.

He leaped onto the stage.

His opponent was a burly, dark-skinned strongman with bulging muscles, clearly trained in brute strength.

Seeing his opponent was Cui Hao, the strongman's lips twitched unnaturally. He clasped his fists and said, "Iron Anvil Workshop, Xie Si! Please guide me!"

His voice was loud but carried a subtle tension. He had clearly seen Cui Hao drawing the bow that morning and felt a pang of fear facing such a formidable opponent in the first round.

But then he thought, they were both at the peak of Mortal Martial. Even if there was a gap, how big could it be?

Taking a deep breath, Xie Si's eyes sharpened, and he quickly suppressed his distracting thoughts.

"Broken Fist, Cui Hao," Cui Hao returned the salute.

"Hah!" Xie Si shouted and no longer hesitated. He stomped his foot on the bluestone of the stage, making a dull thud, and charged like a wild bull! The Iron Anvil Workshop was a premier weapon and farming tool forge in Qingyuan City, and their secret martial art focused on external hard techniques, fierce and explosive.

Xie Si's arm muscles bulged like iron, gleaming with a bronze luster under the sun. His palm strikes whistled, carrying a hot aura, embodying the Iron Anvil Workshop's signature technique, the "Eight Forms of Mountain Splitting"!

His offense was like a continuous tidal wave, each palm strike heavier than the last, with astonishing momentum, as if truly capable of splitting mountains and breaking seas!

Cui Hao's expression remained unchanged. The moment the opponent's palm wind was about to hit him, his footwork suddenly shifted, like a nimble snake coiling around a tree, cutting into the gap of the opponent's surging palm strikes at a subtle angle.

Simultaneously, his right fist shot out silently, appearing slow but moving swiftly. He used the basic fist technique's " Break Formation Style," which specialized in breaking hard techniques by targeting weak points.

Crack!

A not-so-loud but exceptionally crisp striking sound.

His fist precisely landed on the junction of Xie Si's side ribs and back, which were slightly exposed during his charge.

Xie Si felt a concentrated, drill-like force penetrate his body. It wasn't a brute collision but an instant explosion that spread along his ribs!

One side of his body suddenly went numb and pained. His breath hitched, his forward momentum halted, and he staggered forward several steps before managing to stabilize himself.

Xie Si was greatly alarmed. This Cui Hao not only had great strength but was also so skilled in timing and the application of force!

Cui Hao, seizing the advantage, didn't relent. He tapped the ground with his toes, his body moving like a shuttle, closing in tightly.

Xie Si was immediately overwhelmed, forced into a passive defensive stance.

Their figures rapidly crossed within the ten-foot-square stage, the sound of fists and palms breaking through the air incessant.

Cui Hao did not rush for a quick victory but steadily advanced, probing, wearing down, and searching for openings.

Xie Si, relying on his tough skin and fierce spirit, desperately defended, but he found himself increasingly unable to cope.

After more than thirty exchanges, Xie Si's breathing became noticeably heavy, and Cui Hao keenly captured a momentary lapse in his recovery.

Bang!

The punch's force surged, touching the shoulder before retracting instantly.

Xie Si felt as if struck by a heavy blow, groaning as his blood churned. He staggered back seven or eight steps, only stopping at the edge of the arena, his arm now too numb to lift.

"Thank you for going easy," Cui Hao stood with his fist retracted, his breathing steady.

Xie Si's expression shifted, finally settling into a wry smile. He cupped his fist and said, "Thank you, Brother Cui, for holding back!"

The proctor announced Cui Hao as the winner, and a scribe nearby quickly made a record.

Winners remained in a designated area below the stage, awaiting further arrangements, and could also observe the matches on other platforms.

Cui Hao found a spot with a clear view and his gaze swept across several platforms where intense battles were unfolding. He carefully observed the techniques of different schools, their methods of exertion, and the strategies that allowed the seemingly weaker to defeat the stronger.

At the same time, he was silently calculating the types of opponents he might encounter later and how to "control" his performance—ensuring his advancement without revealing all his trump cards too early and becoming a target.

Just as he was intently observing, from another platform not far away, a sudden burst of shouts, sharper and more fearful than usual cheers, erupted!

Cui Hao, like everyone else, turned his head in unison towards the source of the commotion.