Yang Xingyong

Among martial artists, close-quarters combat tested basic reflexes more than anything else and was the truest measure of one's fighting skill.

The cultivators of Three Mountains City had leaped across mountains as if they were flat ground and wrestled lions and slain tigers since childhood. Naturally, they were no ordinary fighters. Though close-quarters combat was a risky move, he was still fairly confident in it.

Yet Jiang Wang practiced the Four Spirits Body Refining Technique, a cultivation method passed down exclusively by the Military School and perfected in the Great Void Illusion Realm's Dao Evolution Platform. At this stage, it was one of the finest body-refining methods in existence.

Jiang Wang's muscles might not have been stronger than steel, but they came close. Vast reserves of qi and blood lay dormant in every muscle. They rarely showed their full measure, but in a contest like this, they burst forth with a ferocity he had never displayed before!

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud!

Fists and feet flew, knees struck elbows.

Their fists smashed against each other, sounding like pounding war drums.

Jiang Wang had never before experienced such a fierce battle fought with nothing but fists and feet. In the midst of it, he felt the Four Spirits Body Refining Technique gradually merging with his body. Though he had trained hard without respite, he had come from a Dao Academy and hadn't understood what true body refinement was.

In this direct clash, he felt his qi and blood grow fuller, his body grow stronger, his Dao Essence grow livelier, and... his opponent's strength gradually fade.

Boom!

At their final head-to-head collision, the cultivator from Three Mountains City fell backward, utterly spent.

It wasn't that he didn't want to keep going. He truly couldn't squeeze out another shred of strength.

Only Jiang Wang, the man fighting him, could have known how hard he had tried, how desperately he had fought.

Several times, Jiang Wang had thought the match was decided, only for his opponent's fist to come flying at him again.

He had felt firsthand the iron will of this Three Mountains City cultivator.

The man had given everything he had to win.

They didn't want to be called barbarians!

And yet, cruelly enough, the harder they fought, the more people said, Look, that's how barbarians are. They don't value their own lives.

The referee raised the flag. The match was over.

The crowd fell briefly silent, then erupted into cheers.

This was Maple Forest City, after all—the home turf of Jiang Wang. What was more, several burly men hired by Zhao Rucheng were roaring their lungs out. For a generous reward, they were willing to shout themselves hoarse. They seemed even more devoted to Jiang Wang than Jiang An'an was to her brother.

Amid the deafening cheers, Jiang Wang reached out and caught his opponent, keeping him from falling to the ground.

"May I ask your name?" Jiang Wang asked, looking at this worthy opponent to show him the respect he deserved.

In fact, before the match began, the referee had announced both their names, but Jiang Wang hadn't bothered to remember his opponent's.

Like so many vulgar people, he had been subtly influenced since childhood. Though he hadn't shown it, in his heart he really had looked down on these so-called "Mountain Barbarians."

The cultivator from Three Mountains City swayed on his feet, almost all his weight supported by Jiang Wang's arm. His eyes were swollen nearly shut, leaving only narrow slits.

"Yang Xingyong!" he said happily. "My name is Yang Xingyong!"

Outside the arena, Jiang An'an was clapping for her brother when she suddenly heard a friend's voice. "An'an!"

Little Qingzhi jumped up in the distance, overjoyed, and squeezed through the crowd toward Jiang An'an.

An old man accompanied her. He was thin and gaunt, with a severely hunched back. Yet as they made their way through the packed crowd, they moved without the slightest hindrance and didn't seem to inconvenience anyone else, either.

Everyone was curious about Jiang An'an's friend, especially the little girl who had wanted to beat up Jiang Wang.

Huang Azhan's perspective was always a little different. The first thing he noticed was the hunched old man.

There was something... awkward about the old man's face. Though his expression was stern, he somehow gave off a naturally lecherous air.

Huang Azhan nudged Zhao Rucheng with his elbow. "Hey, look at that old man."

"What about him?" Zhao Rucheng asked.

Huang Azhan lowered his voice. "Don't you think his head... looks a lot like... a lot like..."

"Like what?"

Huang Azhan said nothing. He only glanced down at Zhao Rucheng's crotch.

Zhao Rucheng first grew wary. "What are you looking at?"

Then he understood, glanced at the old man a couple of times, and stroked his chin. "Hey! It kind of does..."

They had been talking quietly, but the hunched old man suddenly looked up and glared at them furiously. He had clearly heard every word.

"Let's stop talking, let's stop talking. Watch the match." Huang Azhan turned away guiltily and tried to look at the arena as though nothing had happened.

"Ahem, ahem." Zhao Rucheng coughed twice, then took Jiang An'an from Ling He's shoulders and settled her on his own. "An'an, your Brother Ling He's tired. Sit on my shoulders for a while."

He figured that the old man was so old he wouldn't beat up someone carrying a child, would he?

Jiang An'an was already very familiar with Zhao Rucheng, so she didn't mind whose shoulders she sat on. She happily chatted with Qingzhi.

"My brother just won! He's so amazing!"

Yang Xingyong was eventually carried off by others.

The other two matches had ended much earlier. The other cultivator from Three Mountains City had defeated his opponent from Wangjiang City with overwhelming force, while Lin Zhengli of Wangjiang City had easily beaten the other first-year student from Maple Forest City.

But the audience's attention had clearly been drawn to the battle between Jiang Wang and Yang Xingyong. After all, it had been a fierce fight with every blow landing.

"Those two were just a pair of weaklings pecking at each other. Honestly, Maple Forest City—even its citizens have no taste." Lin Zhengli sneered at the other victor, apparently hoping for agreement.

But the winner from Three Mountains City clearly wasn't buying it.

He said coldly, "Please show your opponent some respect."

To him, Lin Zhengli's words disrespected not only Jiang Wang, but also Yang Xingyong, the cultivator from Three Mountains City.

Lin Zhengli had offered a friendly word only to have it fall flat, and he grew even more displeased. "Hmph. Barbarian."

The cultivator from Three Mountains City's eyes nearly spat fire, but he said no more.

The first round was over. Each of the three cities had one victor left, leaving them evenly matched. Next came the round-robin stage, with the order decided by drawing lots. Luck would matter a great deal.

The referee from the Prefecture Academy was in charge of the draw, which was the surest way to ensure fairness.

He drew a lot from the tube, looked at it, and called out, "Jiang Wang!"

Ling He and Zhao Rucheng both breathed a sigh of relief. That meant Lin Zhengli would face the Three Mountains City cultivator first, after which Jiang Wang would fight each of them in turn. It was the best possible draw.

Jiang Wang stepped to the edge of the arena, leaving the center to the two fighters about to face off.

As they passed each other, Lin Zhengli chuckled. "You're lucky. You get to stick around for one more match."

Jiang Wang smiled. "I hope your luck holds, too, and that you get to face me later."

When it came to trading barbs, Zhao Rucheng had certainly given him plenty of practice. Jiang Wang wasn't completely helpless.

He just couldn't understand where Lin Zhengli's hostility toward him came from. Was it because Zhao Rucheng had made the slogans too flashy?

The man didn't seem like the sort to blurt out whatever came to mind. Would a cultivator given a proper Dao Academy education—and an elite disciple chosen to represent the Wangjiang City Daoist Academy—really be so unable to keep his temper in check?

Jiang Wang was genuinely curious about the answer.

As for the fight itself, he felt nothing but anticipation.

Compared to Lin Zhengli's flippant, hot-tempered demeanor, the cultivator from Three Mountains City remained silent, simply watching his opponent.

In this match, he was clearly the one approaching the fight with greater seriousness.

It also showed that he wanted the victory more badly.

Thank you to the readers Shen Ayao, 20191009193419665 (my friend, please pick a nickname...), Xi Zichu, Ah Shen's Little Padded Jacket, and Ye Songsong for the tips!