Fighting for Meat

In fact, everyone had wanted to challenge him the very next day, but they were so sore and exhausted from training that they could barely stand it. They had waited until the third day.

The reason everyone had joined together to challenge An Jing had nothing to do with One-Eyed Instructor's remark about him being the "cream of the crop."

Everyone had seen clearly what An Jing was capable of over the past half month.

Simply put, he excelled at both letters and arms.

Those more learned than him weren't as good at fighting, and as for anyone who was better at fighting...well, nobody could top him there.

Take what happened during one drill at the manor. A big kid named Zhan Feng got into a fight with some of the others.

Though he was only twelve, he stood eight feet tall. His opponent looked dark and scrawny, but was actually astonishingly strong.

When the two of them fought, gusts of wind whipped around them. No one else could get close.

Yet An Jing pinned them both to a table with one hand each. Neither could move, and they cried out for mercy.

So even if it had only been an unspoken understanding at first, after half a month, everyone had accepted An Jing as the Senior Brother in fact.

The results of the endurance test had also shown that An Jing had the best stamina of anyone there.

But that acceptance had been built on the absence of anything at stake.

On the day of the test, An Jing's dinner came with an extra bowl of braised pork ribs and a bowl of vegetable and tofu soup.

The ribs steamed, their aroma rich and mouthwatering. The brown sauce seemed to carry a hint of spicy herbs, enough to set anyone's appetite alight. The vegetable and tofu soup looked ordinary, but seemed to have been simmered with bones, giving it a rich fragrance. It would have been a chef's specialty anywhere else.

Xuanming Manor had plenty of food: millet and meat soup, along with rice and beans. Occasionally, they got eggs and tofu—not much, but at least it was regular.

But that was all.

The moment a big bowl of braised pork ribs appeared, its rich, oily fragrance and savory sauce sent the whole dining hall into an uproar.

An Jing didn't even turn around, but from the quickened breathing, he knew that just about everyone staring at him had green eyes.

Truth be told, his own eyes were green too.

Without the slightest hesitation, An Jing polished off the meat in front of him at top speed.

That night, An Jing went to bed thoroughly satisfied. In the dormitory, he heard twice as much teeth grinding as before, and all the sleep-talk was about "roast meat" and "ribs." Their resentment was almost tangible, and it nearly kept him awake. He was delighted.

He knew full well that, for a while, he wasn't going to get a moment's peace.

But An Jing wasn't afraid in the slightest.

Fight him for his meat?

Ha! What a joke!

Whoever it was, he wouldn't lose!

An Jing had eaten ribs for three days. Once everyone had recovered, ten of the thirteen who completed the entire course under their instructors' supervision demanded the right to challenge him.

"Consecutive matches?"

When he heard the instructor announce the rules, Gu Yeqi, standing behind An Jing, widened her already-large eyes even further.

Puzzled, she asked, "Instructor Li, doesn't that seem a little unfair? Does An Jing have to defeat every challenger in a row to stay Senior Brother?"

The lively girl came from the same place as An Jing. Whenever she saw him, she happily called out, "Brother Jing!" After training, she would even bring him a bowl of water.

The feeling was novel to An Jing, who had never had a younger sister, so he was happy to look out for her. He often gave her pointers on her martial skills, and the two got along well.

Of course, An Jing knew that if he really had a younger sister, she wouldn't necessarily be as warm and considerate as Gu Yeqi.

"Yeah." Zhang Ying, standing behind An Jing with a bruise on her forehead, protested, "And this gives the later challengers way too much of an advantage. Even if one of them wins, I doubt anyone will accept it!"

"If you run out of stamina, that means your training has been lacking. If the others aren't satisfied, they can challenge him again next cycle."

The One-Eyed Instructor's surname was Li. He looked at An Jing with a playful glint in his eye, clearly planning to test his mettle. "You apprentices won't take long to settle a match. You can't, and don't have the skill to, drag a fight out. One mistake is all it takes to decide the winner."

"If someone's really got the skill, beating ten people in a row won't take half an hour."

"Being Senior Brother, the 'champion' of this class, isn't so easy."

Instructor Li was right. An Jing didn't think the rules were unfair. If anything, he thought this was a great opportunity.

A great opportunity to subdue everyone who refused to accept him!

Weapons weren't forbidden for this challenge. Everyone could choose the wooden staff, wooden saber, wooden sword, or other training weapon they were best with. After all, Da Chen had a thriving martial culture, and plenty of young people had grown up around weapons.

An Jing chose a short staff to use as a substitute for a mace, mostly for blocking his challengers' weapons.

The first challenger used a saber, probably a family heirloom from a butcher. His strikes were vicious.

It wasn't that he bore An Jing any particular ill will. He simply knew An Jing's strength well, and understood that if he held back, he might get knocked down in one blow. He didn't think he could win, either—but for the meat, he was going all out!

After they saluted each other, he struck first, stepping forward and sweeping his long saber in an arc. The blade slashed toward An Jing's inner guard from a tricky low angle. But An Jing saw at a glance that the man's technique was meant for a pointed meat-cutting blade, not a long saber. That was why he needed to close in and fight at close quarters. His saber was already long enough, and once he rushed in, it became awkward to swing, throwing his center of gravity off balance.

Seizing his chance, An Jing struck. One blow with his staff knocked the challenger's saber aside. Then he stepped in and shoved the off-balance man, sending him sprawling backward.

The second challenger's ancestors had probably been woodcutters. He wielded his axe well, and the weapon he chose suited him perfectly. It whooshed through the air with tremendous force. If it struck someone, it would certainly damage their muscles and bones. If An Jing took a blow from it, he'd be knocked unconscious on the spot.

The only problem was, An Jing wasn't firewood or a tree.

He could move.

An Jing easily dodged the powerful axe swing, then cracked his staff against the man's side, beneath the armpit. The challenger staggered and gave up on his own.

The third and fourth challengers were no tougher. One used a sword, the other a short spear. After a brief exchange, An Jing spotted their openings and defeated them one after the other.

They had good stamina and no shortage of talent, but most of them had survived the Frost Calamity through their parents' protection or sheer luck. Even those who had killed before had mostly done so by luck. Their martial skills amounted to little more than "knowing the basics."

An Jing, however, had trained in martial arts since childhood. On the Northern Frontier's wastelands, he had killed bandits alongside his mother. He had also killed crazed, man-eating refugees four or five times. He had experience with both ambushes and head-on fights. The gap in real combat experience was simply enormous.

An Jing even had to keep reminding himself to hold back. Otherwise, his short staff would instinctively jab toward the heart or slash at the neck.

That was also why he had chosen a short staff. Defeating all his challengers and becoming the unquestioned Senior Brother who got to eat the meat was one thing. Accidentally beating a classmate or someone his own age to death was another.

"They're nowhere close."

Watching An Jing mow down the fifth and sixth opponents, Instructor Li couldn't help shaking his head. "I wanted to see what this kid could do, but I didn't expect the gap to be this huge."

He looked at the four challengers still waiting and was even more dissatisfied. "None of them are any good."

Of those four challengers, only one had decent martial skills. The others could only bully the other kids. Even so, judging by what An Jing had shown just now, they were at least three or four tiers below him.

And from the girl's look of worship, it was clear she had recognized An Jing's level and had lost her fighting spirit. She would probably just surrender when her turn came.

By now, An Jing had defeated the seventh challenger. This time, he hadn't even used a weapon. He caught the incoming long staff with his bare hands, then kicked the other boy back ten feet. The boy coughed, waved a hand, and conceded.

A quarter of an hour had just passed. Forget half an hour—the ten challengers probably wouldn't last another quarter.

Instructor Li's brows drew together. He had come with a mission. An Jing's great skill was certainly a good thing, but crushing everyone else's spirit didn't suit his purpose.

His gaze swept over the crowd. Among the more than two hundred Children of Calamity, there were certainly some whose talent matched An Jing's. But precisely because they were talented, they had already realized that their lack of real combat experience meant they were no match for him.

Those with combat experience and decent strength could also see the gap between themselves and An Jing.

Instructor Li glanced at a few promising youngsters he had his eye on, but none showed the slightest fighting spirit. After looking around, he finally found someone who watched the fight without looking intimidated. Instead, the boy clenched his fists excitedly. He was also fairly capable, and might pose a bit of a threat to An Jing.

"You."

Instructor Li went straight up to the boy and clapped him on the shoulder, then pointed at An Jing. "Go knock him flat."