Anyang Martial Arts Tournament

"I've never heard of the Anyang Martial Arts Tournament before."

Chen Mo asked, "What prizes are offered?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how foolish the question was.

At any tournament like this, the most important reward was a chance to make a name for yourself and build connections.

That was worth more than any material prize.

Ji Chang shook his head, too. "I haven't heard of any prizes. County Magistrate Lin sent a letter himself, and Master didn't hide its contents. He announced it to all of us disciples. But who would dare refuse County Magistrate Lin?"

That was the truth. No one in the county would dare say no to the county magistrate.

Never mind anything else; just consider his Hua Jin late-stage strength. He was a cut above the Xie Family patriarch and, without a doubt, the strongest person in Anyang County!

While they were talking, Yin Tianqing emerged from the inner room and walked over to Chen Mo.

"Master."

Chen Mo bowed.

Yin Tianqing nodded slightly. He sensed that Chen Mo's aura had advanced since twenty-odd days ago, and his face lit up with delight.

"Ha ha, excellent! Your cultivation has improved again. In a few more days, you should break through to mid-stage Dark Jin."

At that, several senior disciples who were practicing nearby abruptly turned their heads and stared at Chen Mo as though he were a ghost.

They had practiced for months without making much progress. How had Chen Mo improved so quickly?

Did he have an innate constitution beyond the reach of ordinary people?

Yin Tianqing said, "Ji Chang just told you about the Anyang Martial Arts Tournament in three days. I've decided that you'll represent the martial arts school."

Chen Mo nodded calmly.

He weighed it in his mind.

Below Hua Jin, as long as he didn't face Xie Jinyou, he could hold his own against anyone.

This was a rare chance to sharpen his comprehension and temper his martial arts.

And if he could bring himself closer to the Xie Family, he'd be paving the way for his future. The Xie Family's resources were second to none in all of Anyang County.

"Then I'll go practice."

Chen Mo was just about to leave when Yin Tianqing stopped him with an outstretched hand. "How about a proper match between master and disciple?"

Chen Mo's heart stirred.

Yin Tianqing's strength was extremely close to Xie Jinyou's, and his practical combat experience was even a little greater.

"This disciple wouldn't dare."

But as his disciple, even if he wanted to, he couldn't say so.

"Don't worry." Yin Tianqing patted Chen Mo on the shoulder. "I haven't taught you much, so let this be my way of making it up to you. Besides, there'll be plenty of formidable opponents at the tournament. You need to get used to fighting them beforehand."

"All right."

Chen Mo stopped hesitating and immediately took up a fighting stance, the force of his Dragon-Capturing Jin rippling outward.

Yin Tianqing, meanwhile, used the Dragon-Subduing Stake Technique and Fuhu Fist, revealing the full strength of his Dark Jin peak cultivation.

The surrounding disciples crowded close, their eyes fixed on the match.

Third exchange.

Yin Tianqing's eyes were sharp as an eagle's. He gave a sharp shout. "The opening of the Sand-Raising Style in Fuhu Fist must be fierce, like a hunting eagle soaring through the sky. The finishing move must be slow, like a fish gliding over a shallow riverbed."

Chen Mo paused for a moment, then followed the instruction and struck with the Sand-Raising Style.

Their fists collided in midair, and their forces burst outward.

Seventh exchange.

Yin Tianqing suddenly sprang forward like a tiger, throwing a fierce punch. "The seventh move of Fuhu Fist, Tiger Roar Jin: gather the force at the waist, release it through the fist, and draw it back into the shoulder."

Thud! Thud!

The punch sent Chen Mo flying half a zhang, his inner force surging and rumbling without pause.

Seventeenth exchange.

Yin Tianqing's Dragon-Subduing Stake footwork shifted abruptly. He moved against the expected direction and caught Chen Mo off guard. Chen Mo staggered several steps before dropping to the ground.

The winner had been decided.

"Huff—"

"Huff—"

Both men panted heavily.

Then they looked at each other and laughed, their hearty laughter filling every corner of the inner hall.

"It's been a long time since I've enjoyed such a satisfying fight!"

Yin Tianqing sighed.

Chen Mo praised him sincerely as well. "Master, your fists are unpredictable and your moves are fierce. I accept my defeat wholeheartedly."

He was telling the truth. He'd given his all in every exchange, but Master had handled each one with ease—and had offered pointers on every move.

Some of those insights were things he had never grasped through Mountain and Water Cultivation.

After the fight, he had the vague feeling that he was already on the verge of breaking through the threshold of mid-stage Dark Jin.

"Think over those moves carefully when you get back, and take the time to absorb them. That's about all I can teach you."

Yin Tianqing spoke with a solemn expression.

Chen Mo bowed deeply. "I'll remember, Master."

After Yin Tianqing left, Chen Mo immersed himself in practice, going over every lesson his master had just taught him.

With his understanding of Fuhu Fist, ten repetitions of each move were enough for him to grasp its essential principles. After thirty, he could perform them with ease. After eighty, he had them down to a fine art.

The sky gradually darkened.

Chen Mo returned to the blacksmith shop to stoke the fire and forge the weapons his customers had ordered that day, one by one.

Once he was done, he applied each small gain in comprehension to his stake techniques, fist techniques, and Tiemang Technique, practicing them again and again in an endless cycle.

Thump!

A sound rang out, as hard and clear as refined iron.

A silvery sheen spread across his arm, making it look like cold iron. Its strength had increased considerably, too.

At that moment, even if someone scraped a sharp blade across his arm several times, it would leave only shallow marks.

"What a fine martial technique. Why couldn't I have found it sooner?"

Lost in regret that he'd only just discovered it, Chen Mo looked up to find the night already deep.

He fell asleep holding the weapon he had just forged.

Dawn broke.

Chen Mo woke from a deep sleep and stretched out both arms. He felt a mighty force flowing through his meridians, with a dull rumble sounding from time to time.

"I've broken through to mid-stage Dark Jin..."

He spoke to himself with delight.

The spar with his master the day before had benefited him more than half a month of ordinary practice.

He knew that his master had passed on everything he had learned in his life.

It had happened just this once.

If Chen Mo wanted another chance like that, Yin Tianqing would have to break through to Hua Jin; otherwise, he and Chen Mo would no longer be separated by a difference in cultivation level.

Hua Jin...

In a small county like this, Hua Jin was a realm ordinary martial artists could only dream of reaching.

In the past ten years, there hadn't been a single battle between Hua Jin experts in Anyang County.

"Three more days..."

Chen Mo murmured, then gathered his thoughts and prepared to throw himself into practice.

Just then,

the blacksmith shop's door creaked open, and a figure in a moon-white dress stepped inside.

Wu Zhiai lifted her skirt as she entered. Seeing that Chen Mo was indeed there, she said, "The day after tomorrow, at Zuichun Pavilion, County Magistrate Lin has invited the major families and factions to test their skills against each other. You've heard about it, right?"

Chen Mo nodded. "My master told me about the Anyang Martial Arts Tournament. I'll be there."

"I'm going, too."

Wu Zhiai raised her brows slightly. "No one in the Wu Family qualifies to compete, but I can still go and lend you a hand. I know some of the factions, so if you need someone to speak up for you, I can do what little I can."

Chen Mo paused at that. "I'm worried the Zhao Family might come after you. I'm afraid I won't be free to protect you."

Wu Zhiai's gaze shifted. "I'm more worried about you... I have a bad feeling about this. The Anyang Martial Arts Tournament may not be as simple as it seems. Having one more person there means we can look out for each other."

"All right."

Chen Mo nodded, thoughtful.