Tang San Gets Beaten

Tang San suffered from insomnia.

"Your Blue Silver Grass martial soul is too weak."

"Keep your distance, lest you get caught in the crossfire."

"You're no help."

"Fact."

He was once a genius of the Tang Sect. An outer sect disciple who stole inner sect techniques, assassinated sixteen experts single-handedly, and finally leaped from a cliff to prove his resolve—how heroic that was.

Transmigrated to the Douluo Continent, he possessed the five great Tang Sect arts: Mysterious Heaven Skill, Purple Demon Eye, Mysterious Jade Hand, Controlling Crane Capturing Dragon, and Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track.

Add to that the Eight Spider Lances, the mutated Blue Silver Grass, and his status as the future Sea God.

He, Tang San, had always been a genius.

He had never been called "trash."

Until these four people appeared.

Tang San sat up.

Xiao Wu was sleeping soundly on the bed nearby. She rolled over, muttering in her sleep, "Third Brother... don't cry..." before drifting back into a deep slumber.

Tang San looked at Xiao Wu's sleeping face, remained silent for a long time, and then clenched his fists.

He decided to prove himself.

Early the next morning, Tang San found Han Li.

"I want to spar with you." Tang San stood before Han Li, his tone calm, but his eyes held a rare intensity.

Han Li had just come out of the cafeteria, holding a bowl of porridge and pickles. He glanced at Tang San, expressionless: "Why?"

"To prove myself," Tang San said.

Han Li was silent for two seconds, lowered his head to take a sip of porridge: "Waste of time." He turned to leave.

Tang San chased after him and blocked his path: "I won't hold you back. I just want to fight you and see where the gap lies."

Han Li stopped and looked into Tang San's eyes.

Those pitch-black pupils were like two deep wells, bottomless.

Tang San felt a chill under that gaze, but he did not look away. After a few breaths, Han Li placed his bowl on a nearby stone bench.

"Three moves," Han Li said. "If you can take three moves from me, you win."

Training ground.

Han Li stood in the center, hands behind his back, his posture composed. Tang San stood opposite him, took a deep breath, circulated his Mysterious Heaven Skill, and quietly activated his Purple Demon Eye.

Through Tang San's eyes, the world changed. A faint cyan light shimmered around Han Li—that was spiritual power, a force different from soul power, denser and more restrained. His breathing was steady, his heartbeat slow; he stood there as still as a boulder.

Tang San moved. Using the Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track, a profound Tang Sect movement technique, his figure flickered, making it impossible to judge the direction of his attack.

Tang San's figure left three afterimages on the field, lunging at Han Li from three directions simultaneously.

Han Li did not move. Tang San's true form appeared behind him, his right hand extended. Using the Mysterious Jade Hand, his palm was like jade, concealing the force of a Thousand Jun.

His hand was half a foot from Han Li's neck when Tang San realized he could no longer move.

Cyan formation patterns lit up beneath his feet, light rising from the ground like an invisible cage trapping him.

Tang San's Mysterious Jade Hand hung in mid-air, his fingers only three inches from Han Li's neck, but those three inches were now an impassable distance.

Han Li turned around, looked at Tang San, and said calmly: "My binding formation, though less than one percent of the power it holds in the Immortal World, is enough to trap you."

Tang San struggled, but didn't budge. He struggled again, still nothing. The formation lines locked his ankles like iron hoops, pinning him to the spot.

Han Li raised his hand, a cyan light glowing at his fingertip, pointing half an inch from the center of Tang San's brow.

Tang San's back was soaked in cold sweat; if that strike had truly landed, he would be dead.

"You lost." Han Li withdrew his hand, turned, and walked back to the stone bench to finish his porridge.

Tang San stood where he was, silent for a long time. The formation had dissipated, but he did not move. He looked down at the fading patterns, as if they had never existed.

Three moves? No, he hadn't even taken one.

Tang San walked over to Han Li, who was finishing the last of his porridge. Tang San's voice was low: "I lost."

Han Li didn't look at him, just gave a grunt, picked up his bowl, and left.

Tang San stood still, watching Han Li's back grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared at the end of the corridor. He took a deep breath, turned, and walked toward the other end of the training ground, where Xiao Yan was leaning against a tree, basking in the sun.

"Xiao Yan, I want to challenge you."

Xiao Yan was dozing, but opened one eye upon hearing Tang San's voice: "What?"

Tang San repeated: "I want to challenge you."

Xiao Yan closed his eyes and let out a scoff: "Did you fight Han Li?"

"I did."

"And you lost?"

"Lost."

"Lost and you still come looking for me?" Xiao Yan opened his eyes, looked Tang San up and down, and asked, "Do you have a masochistic streak?"

Tang San gritted his teeth: "I just want to know the gap."

Xiao Yan stared at Tang San for a few seconds. Tang San's gaze was very earnest, so earnest that it was hard to refuse. Xiao Yan sighed, stood up from the ground, and patted the dust off his pants.

"Fine, I'll play with you."

Tang San retreated ten steps, putting distance between himself and Xiao Yan.

This time, he didn't intend to get close. Han Li's trapping formation had made him realize that close-quarters combat offered no advantages. Tang San pulled the Godly Zhuge Crossbow from his waist and aimed it at Xiao Yan.

Xiao Yan saw the compact crossbow and raised an eyebrow: "Hidden weapons?"

Tang San pulled the trigger. The mechanism clicked crisply, and three crossbow bolts tore through the air, shooting toward Xiao Yan in a triangular formation. They were fast, the angles were tricky, and they sealed off any room for side-stepping, leaving only retreat as an option.

The corners of Tang San's mouth curled up slightly. The moment Xiao Yan retreated, the second wave of hidden weapons was already out: Dragon Whisker Needle, as thin as hair, nearly invisible in the air, specifically designed to break through protective energy shields. Then came the third wave: Bodhi Blood, small dark red spheres that exploded upon contact with air, covering a wide area.

Three waves of hidden weapons, interlocking perfectly. This was Tang San's most proficient hidden weapon combo, and in the Continental Soul Master Tournament, this move had never failed.

Xiao Yan did not retreat. He stood his ground, raised his right hand, and a cyan flame ignited in his palm. The Exotic Flame transformed into a shield, and a fire wall as thin as a cicada's wing unfolded before him.

The bolts from the Godly Zhuge Crossbow shot into the fire wall, the metal melting and dripping to the ground. The Dragon Whisker Needle was burned to ash by the high heat before it could even get close.

The Bodhi Blood collided with the fire wall and was consumed before it could even explode. Of the three waves of hidden weapons, not a single one touched the corner of Xiao Yan's clothes.

Tang San was stunned. Xiao Yan walked out from behind the fire wall and glanced at Tang San: "Playing with hidden weapons? I played with those back in the day too. You call that a hidden weapon? That's child's play."

Tang San's face turned pale. Xiao Yan didn't give him time to react; with a flash, he was already in front of Tang San.

Eight Extremities Collapse, a simple and direct punch, slammed into Tang San's chest. Tang San felt as if he had been hit by a rhinoceros; he flew ten meters away, crashed heavily onto the ground, and slid several feet before stopping.

Xiao Yan stood where he was, looking at Tang San sprawled on the ground: "Hidden weapons are ultimately external objects. If you want to defeat me, you're a hundred years too early."

Tang San lay on the ground, his chest aching as if it were about to split open. He gritted his teeth and climbed up. Xiao Yan had already turned and walked away, muttering to himself: "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river... no, that's not the right time to use that line."

Tang San stood in place, covered in dirt. His clothes were torn in several places from the ground, and there was a scrape on his face. He stood there for a long, long time.

Then, he went to find Shi Hao.

Shi Hao was hitting a wooden stake in the training field. Calling it a wooden stake was a stretch; it was actually a massive tree, thick enough for two people to wrap their arms around.

Shi Hao smashed his fists into the trunk one by one, roaring Arbitrary Eternity with every strike. Under the bombardment of his fists, the massive tree swayed precariously, and leaves showered down.

Tang San stood to the side and watched for a long time, only stepping forward after Shi Hao finished his hundredth punch.

"Shi Hao, I want to spar with you."

Shi Hao turned around, shirtless, drenched in sweat, his muscles glistening in the sunlight.

He glanced at Tang San: "Did you just fight Xiao Yan?"

"I did."

"Lost?"

"Lost."

"Then why are you still coming to find me?" Shi Hao tilted his head, asking the same question as Xiao Yan.

Tang San gritted his teeth: "One by one."

Shi Hao thought for a moment and nodded: "Fine. Make your move."

Tang San took a deep breath, pushing his Purple Demon Eye to the limit. The purple light in his eyes shone to the extreme.

This was his trump card, a mental attack that acted directly on the opponent's consciousness, impossible to defend against, impossible to dodge.

The light of the Purple Demon Eye shot into Shi Hao's eyes. Shi Hao's body stiffened, his pupils slightly unfocused. Tang San felt a surge of joy—it worked! He lunged forward, his right hand forming a claw, aiming straight for Shi Hao's throat. Then, he saw Shi Hao close his eyes.

Shi Hao stood there with his eyes closed, a faint smile on his lips.

"Your eye technique is not bad," Shi Hao said, then threw a punch. No aiming, no prediction, just a punch smashed toward the direction Tang San was charging from.

Tang San's body was in mid-air, with nowhere to dodge. That punch landed squarely in the center of his chest, and Tang San went flying again. He flew further and crashed harder than before.

Shi Hao opened his eyes and looked at Tang San sprawled on the ground: "Your eye technique is good, but my physical body doesn't need eyes to fight. Arbitrary Eternity. After all, I once fought someone with double pupils; he was much more formidable than you."

Tang San lay in the mud. This time, he didn't climb up immediately, because he suddenly felt that it didn't seem to matter whether he got up or not.

Tang San didn't remember how he found Wang Lin. It seemed like Ning Rongrong had pointed the way, or perhaps Xiao Wu had shouted something behind him, but he hadn't heard it clearly.

His mind held only one thing: there was one last one left. Once he finished this, he could go back to sleep. Wang Lin sat on a rock behind the academy, his white robes as pure as snow, his long hair fluttering in the wind. From a distance, he looked like a painting. Tang San walked over.

"Wang Lin, I want to challenge you."

Wang Lin didn't move; he didn't even lift his eyelids.

Tang San took another step forward: "I said..."

"This Seat heard you."

Wang Lin opened his eyes. There was no ripple in those gray-white pupils. He glanced at Tang San, then looked away, as if looking at something not worth a second glance.

"You fought Han Li and lost, fought Xiao Yan and lost, fought Shi Hao and lost." Wang Lin's voice was as flat as if he were reciting a grocery list. "Are you trying to lose to everyone?"

Tang San gritted his teeth: "So what if I am?"

Wang Lin stood up and jumped down from the stone. His movements were light, and his landing made almost no sound. "Then make your move."

Tang San did not attack. He stood where he was, watching Wang Lin, his feet as if nailed to the ground. Wang Lin looked at Tang San, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into an arc. "You are afraid of This Seat."

Tang San instinctively retorted: "I am not!"

Wang Lin shook his head, gently, like a sigh. The Heavenly Inverse Bead emerged from between his brows, gray light swirling within the bead like a tiny vortex. "The cause and effect are set; your fear is visible to This Seat."

With a flash of black light from the Heavenly Inverse Bead, Tang San felt the entire world vanish. He stood in a void, with no up or down, no left or right, no sound, and no light.

Then the images appeared: Wutan City, the back mountain of the Xiao family, the youth who had been rejected by Nalan Yanran kneeling on the ground, letting the wind blow and the rain lash him. Then came the Great Thousand World, the Endless Fire Domain, where flames burned everything to ash, yet he could only watch.

Then came countless failures, countless setbacks; all the images flooded into Tang San's mind at the same time. One second, ten thousand years. Tang San collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face, screaming at the top of his lungs: "I was wrong! I admit defeat! I was wrong!!!"

Because he had already been frightened to tears by the past of the first Xiao Yan, and that was before even reaching Han Li, Shi Hao, or Wang Lin.

The black light of the Heavenly Inverse Bead dissipated, and Wang Lin withdrew his power. The gray bead slowly faded back into his brow. Tang San knelt on the ground, trembling all over, his face covered in tears. Wang Lin looked down at him and spat out two words indifferently: "Ant."

Tang San knelt alone on the grass of the back mountain, crying for a long time. The sun moved from the east to the west; his tears ran dry, his throat grew hoarse, and in the end, he could only kneel there, his body convulsing.

When the Shrek Seven Devils found him, he was still kneeling. Dai Mubai pulled Tang San up from the ground. Tang San's legs were already numb, and he couldn't even stand steadily, forced to lean on Dai Mubai. His eyes were swollen like peaches, and his face was covered in tear tracks.

Ma Hongjun handed over a chicken leg: "Third Brother, want to eat something?"

Tang San shook his head, his voice hoarse: "I don't want to eat."

Ning Rongrong handed over a cup of water: "Then drink some water?"

Tang San took it, drank a mouthful, and handed it back without saying a word.

Xiao Wu squeezed through the crowd, and seeing Tang San's state, her eyes turned red instantly. She hugged Tang San, her voice trembling: "Third Brother, don't be like this, you're scaring me."

Tang San was silent for a long time, then he spoke, his voice so hoarse it was almost unintelligible: "I used to be a genius."

Xiao Wu nodded vigorously: "You still are."

Tang San shook his head, gently but firmly. He looked at each of the Shrek Seven Devils, one by one. "Those four, they are monsters."

Tang San's voice was very calm, so calm it didn't sound like the usual Tang San. "Comparing myself to monsters, that was my mistake."

Dai Mubai patted his shoulder, with enough force that Tang San's shoulder bone creaked: "That's the spirit. Life is just like that; there will always be someone more... perverted than you."

Tang San nodded vigorously. Xiao Wu let out a sigh of relief, releasing Tang San to give him a comforting hug.

Tang San instinctively opened his arms to embrace Xiao Wu, and the words blurted out: "Resurrect, My Love!"

Xiao Wu's palm traced a graceful arc through the air, landing a crisp slap on Tang San's face. "Wake up!"

Xiao Wu stood with her hands on her hips, roaring. Tang San covered his face, blinking his eyes as tears welled up again.

But he smiled.