A night passed.
When Li Pingsheng opened his eyes, dawn was just breaking.
[ Talent Potential: 0.9 ]
The number quietly crept up by one notch.
His hard cultivation in the latter half of last night had finally squeezed out another 0.1 potential.
He was just 0.1 short of unlocking [Light Body].
Just one last push.
Li Pingsheng weighed it over in his mind.
The martial arts school was holding an assessment today, and all the newly promoted disciples had to take part.
Without [Light Body], his weakness was obvious: speed and evasion.
All that brute strength was useless if he couldn't hit anyone.
At a time like this, revealing all his trump cards and drawing the attention of someone with ulterior motives would be unwise.
Especially Instructor Wu, and Zhao Ming.
Until he had enough strength to protect himself, it was always better to keep something in reserve.
He had made up his mind. He only needed to muddle through today's assessment.
The Martial Practice Field was packed with people.
Instructor Wu stood at the head of the line with his hands behind his back, wearing a face like everyone owed him money.
"Today's assessment has two parts."
"First, a weighted run. Twenty laps around the Martial Practice Field, each of you carrying thirty jin of iron chains. The last one to finish gets no lunch."
At his words, several disciples went to the side and picked up black, chainmail-like vests.
Li Pingsheng took one too.
The thirty-jin weight settled on his shoulders, making his body sink.
For an ordinary disciple, it was no small burden.
But once he circulated his qi and blood, the weight felt like nothing.
To avoid standing out, he deliberately held back his [Blood Strengthening], slowing his qi and blood to about the same pace as an ordinary disciple's.
"Begin."
Instructor Wu gave the order.
Zhao Ming darted out first, his footwork light and quick. Even with thirty jin of chains on his back, he didn't slow down at all.
Li Pingsheng followed at an easy pace in the middle of the pack, breathing steadily and passing himself off as an average disciple.
He even copied the others, panting heavily every few steps and putting on a suitably strained expression.
Zhao Ming led the pack by a wide margin, soon lapping the others.
As he passed Li Pingsheng, he deliberately slowed down, openly mocking him.
"Junior Brother Li, with your superior roots, how come you're running slower than me? Didn't you eat last night?"
Li Pingsheng kept running without a word.
Zhao Ming curled his lip, pushed off, and sped away again.
In the end, Zhao Ming came in first.
He stood before Instructor Wu, panting a little but holding his back ramrod straight, his face full of smug satisfaction.
Instructor Wu gave a rare nod of approval.
By the time Li Pingsheng had struggled through all twenty laps and stopped with the rest of the group, the disdain and contempt in Instructor Wu's eyes had deepened.
A fraud.
"The second part: stance sparring."
Instructor Wu pointed to several three-foot-square bluestone slabs laid out in the middle of the Martial Practice Field.
"Two to a group. You'll fight on the platform."
"The rules are simple. Use the Health Preservation Stance, and push against each other with your palms only. No punches or kicks."
"Whoever's stance breaks first, or gets pushed off the stone, loses."
The disciples exchanged glances, each looking for a familiar partner.
Just then, Zhao Ming stepped forward and cupped his hands toward Instructor Wu.
"Instructor Wu, I'd like to ask Junior Brother Li for a few pointers. Junior Brother Li has a solid foundation, so he can give the rest of us some guidance."
Everyone looked toward Li Pingsheng.
Instructor Wu had never liked Li Pingsheng to begin with. Hearing this, he said,
"Approved. Li Pingsheng, step forward."
Li Pingsheng stepped out of the crowd and stopped in front of a bluestone slab.
Zhao Ming followed him onto the neighboring slab. The two faced each other from a distance, and a vicious glint flashed in Zhao Ming's eyes.
A useless wretch whose foundation had been forced up with medicine—did he really deserve to be a True Disciple?
He sneered inwardly, already channeling a hidden force into his hands.
This was the Zhao Family's hereditary Bone-Crushing Force, designed specifically to break a person's bones.
Today, I'll make you cough up everything you swallowed—with interest.
"Junior Brother Li, be careful."
Zhao Ming offered a sham warning, sank into his stance, and moved in.
They took their places on the platform and assumed their stances.
Li Pingsheng had never intended to win.
He'd take a light hit, let himself fall with the momentum, and concede. Then this would all be over.
He circulated his qi and blood to guard his chest, ready to take the blow.
A vicious glint flashed in Zhao Ming's eyes. He shoved forward with both palms, a chill wind of force surging toward Li Pingsheng's chest.
Here it comes.
Li Pingsheng didn't dodge. He was ready to take the hit head-on.
Thud.
A muffled impact rang out.
Zhao Ming's palms struck Li Pingsheng squarely in the chest.
The impact Li Pingsheng had expected came.
But he didn't fall.
He didn't even sway.
The moment Zhao Ming's insidious force drilled into his body, Li Pingsheng sensed something was wrong. But before he could react, his qi and blood surged like gunpowder ignited, washing away the invading force completely.
Then his bones gave a resonant hum, and a stronger force rebounded through Zhao Ming's palms.
A piercing, distorted scream rang across the entire Martial Practice Field.
Crack.
The sound of breaking bones reached every ear.
Zhao Ming flew backward and crashed heavily to the ground several yards away.
His right arm twisted, dangling limp at his side. The bones beneath his sleeve had snapped in several places.
Everyone stared in shock.
Instructor Wu's expression froze.
Li Pingsheng, standing on the platform, was stunned too.
He looked down at his chest, then at Zhao Ming, who was clutching his arm and howling in pain in the distance.
Had this... gotten a little out of hand?
He'd meant to fall with the momentum.
But damn it, his body wouldn't obey.
[Tiger Bone] and [Blood Strengthening] had automatically protected him, pinning him firmly in place without so much as a tremor.
No, he had to act.
Li Pingsheng hurriedly held his breath, trying to make his face look a little more pained and pale.
He even bit the tip of his tongue in secret, forcing a mouthful of blood to seep from the corner of his lips.
He put on a show of spitting blood.
Then he prepared to collapse weakly.
But the moment he bent his knees, the bluestone beneath his feet... cracked... crackled...
The bluestone slab beneath him, a solid half-foot thick, split with spreading cracks that radiated from his feet.
Li Pingsheng stopped moving.
He held his one-legged stance, one leg still raised in midair, his expression frozen on his face.
How was he supposed to act now?
Everyone on the field shifted their attention from Zhao Ming's screams to the fractured stone beneath Li Pingsheng's feet.
Zhao Ming stopped howling too and stared at the shattered slab.
What the hell kind of luck was this?
Helpless, Li Pingsheng forced a weak, bewildered look onto his face.
He slowly walked down from the shattered platform, went up to the dumbfounded Instructor Wu, and cupped his hands. His voice weak, he said,
"Cough, cough... Instructor Wu, this disciple... did his best."
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