Departure

After Chen Jing returned to the Fist Academy, he rested for a little while, then took a deep breath and once more assumed the opening stance of the River-Breaking Fist.

With each punch of the River-Breaking Fist, the blood and qi within Chen Jing's body surged through his limbs and bones, rising and falling like the sound of the tide.

With Xiang Lingfei away from the Fist Academy, Fei Feng was at last able to give his full attention to the students. He watched the Central Courtyard disciples closely, occasionally offering a word of guidance.

Suddenly.

"What's wrong with Senior Brother Zhou?"

A cry of alarm shattered the Fist Academy's orderly rhythm. Everyone instinctively stopped and looked over.

Chen Jing paused as well and turned to see what was happening.

In the middle of the crowd, a tall man dressed in the River-Breaking Fist uniform was throwing punches like a madman.

Each punch grew heavier than the last, and his movements grew faster and faster. His skin visibly flushed red, as if a scorching flame had been kindled inside him. Wisps of white steam even seemed to rise from his pores.

"Is Senior Brother Zhou... trying to break through to the Blood River Realm?!"

Watching the scene, a junior brother who had only recently broken through to Blood Creek couldn't help exclaiming.

The man was named Zhou Xiu, and he had been at the academy for two years.

Last year, he had broken through to Blood Creek in just over a month, making him one of the most talented disciples in the Central Courtyard. Everyone had thought he would reach the Blood River Realm in no time, but he had remained stuck at the peak of Blood Creek for ages, unable to cross that threshold.

This was already his third attempt to break through to the Blood River Realm!

Several senior brothers nearby watched the scene with grave expressions. "That's right. Junior Brother Zhou is breaking through."

Someone's voice trembled, and he couldn't bring himself to finish. "But he's already failed twice... If he fails once more..."

Another man said heavily, "His blood and qi will rupture. He'll never be able to advance to Second Blood in this lifetime."

The icy words spread quietly through the crowd, like several cold blades plunging into everyone's heart.

The atmosphere in the courtyard turned stifling in an instant. Every gaze was fixed on Zhou Xiu, and every heart tightened with dread.

Everyone knew that reaching the Blood River Realm was no threshold one could cross by brute force alone. Opportunity, talent, and foundation were all essential. The slightest misstep could mean utter ruin.

Fei Feng furrowed his brow slightly. Chen Jing watched with a calm gaze. Neither said a word; they simply stared at the figure struggling to break through.

Zhou Xiu was usually taciturn and unfailingly humble toward everyone. Only when practicing his punches did he fight as if his life depended on it.

Now his blood and qi surged through his body. Every punch drew on every ounce of his strength, as if he meant to hammer two years of restraint and resentment straight through that bottleneck.

Huff, huff.

The seconds ticked by. Zhou Xiu's breathing grew heavier and heavier, like the wheezing of a battered bellows, yet his punches grew faster and faster. His fists blurred like a downpour, pounding the air with a deep, muffled roar.

The knotted muscles throughout his body swelled, and his blood and qi thundered beneath his skin, as if they might burst through his flesh at any moment!

"He's done it! Senior Brother Zhou really might make it this time!"

Someone could no longer contain his excitement. His voice trembled, and the tension in the courtyard seemed to ease a little.

But just as everything hung in the balance, with success a single step away—

Bang!!!

A strange, muffled explosion erupted from within Zhou Xiu. His fist stopped abruptly in midair, rigid as iron. It was as if invisible shackles had bound him. The strength drained from his body in an instant, and he could barely stay on his feet.

At the sight, the atmosphere in the Fist Academy, which had only just begun to relax, grew unbearably tense once more.

The veins in Zhou Xiu's neck bulged. His eyes were red as blood, and a hoarse, furious roar forced its way from his throat. "M-Move!!!"

"Move for me... Move!!!"

His voice was choked with blood, full of resentment and despair, but his body had stopped obeying him altogether. He swayed like a withered tree on the verge of snapping, barely able to remain upright.

The next second—

Bang!!

Zhou Xiu toppled backward like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing hard onto the cold stone floor. His chest heaved violently. Beads of sweat mingled with scorching tears and streamed down his cheeks, gathering at his chin before splattering across the ground.

The blood and qi surging around him faded at a visible speed, leaving behind a deathly pale face.

Sweat, tears, and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth mingled on his face, leaving him looking wretched and forlorn.

The entire Fist Academy fell silent. Everyone stood frozen in place, their expressions complicated.

Only after a long while did someone speak, his voice trembling as he murmured, "Zhou Xiu... failed again."

A junior brother who had only recently entered First Blood froze completely. His face was blank with confusion. "But Senior Brother Zhou is so talented, and he trains harder than anyone... How could he fail?"

A senior brother nearby who was also preparing to break through to Second Blood looked ashen. His voice was numb. "So what if you're talented and work hard? The Blood River Realm has never been something you can reach through effort alone."

"If even someone like Senior Brother Zhou can't do it... then what about me..."

A disciple who had only recently begun preparing for his breakthrough had a bleak look in his eyes. His words brimmed with self-doubt, and he fell silent before he could finish.

More and more people shook their heads, sighed, or lowered their eyes in silence. The once-boisterous Fist Academy was now shrouded in oppressive stillness.

Zhou Xiu lay on the ground, staring blankly at the gray sky.

There was no resentment or anger in his eyes, only a desolate emptiness that sent a chill down one's spine.

He knew better than anyone that he was finished.

His path in martial arts had come to an end. He would spend the rest of his life at First Blood.

The Fist Academy disciples grew more and more solemn. Some couldn't bear to watch and silently turned away.

Others forced down the ache in their hearts and turned back to their punches, but their fists had lost their usual vigor.

They should have been used to scenes like this by now, used to watching one companion after another fall before a bottleneck that seemed within reach, yet remained impossibly far away.

But every time they witnessed it, their hearts still ached—and there was nothing they could do.

"Ah..."

A heavy sigh broke the silence in the Fist Academy.

Fei Feng shook his head. A trace of regret flashed in his eyes, but he said nothing more. With his hands behind his back, he turned and resumed pacing through the Central Courtyard. His gaze swept over the disciples standing frozen around him, and he spoke sternly. "What are you all standing around for? Aren't you going to practice your punches?"

With that, he walked over to a disciple and raised a hand to correct the boy's stance, his tone returning to its usual severity.

It was as if Zhou Xiu's failure had been no more than a minor incident among the Fist Academy's countless daily routines.

After all, Fei Feng had seen too much of this. He had long grown used to such partings and regrets.

Chen Jing, too, drew his gaze away from Zhou Xiu's dejected figure. His fingers tightened slightly, then he quieted his mind and continued practicing the River-Breaking Fist.

His punches whistled through the air, each carrying a fierce force, but Zhou Xiu's vacant gaze as he fell kept flashing through Chen Jing's mind.

If he didn't have the Exemption Bead, if he didn't have the Burning Pulse Breakthrough Technique, he might have ended up just like Zhou Xiu—trapped at the peak of First Blood, throwing everything he had into an attempt to reach Second Blood, only to suffer a rupture in his blood and qi and have his martial path destroyed...

Just then, Zhou Xiu slowly pushed himself up from the ground. He staggered, then steadied himself and dragged his heavy steps over to Fei Feng. Bowing deeply, he spoke in a voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. "Master... I... wish to take my leave."

Fei Feng paused. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice carrying a trace of weariness that was difficult to detect. "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. You know the rules of the academy. Once you enter the martial world, think carefully before you act. Don't bring shame upon our academy."

Fei Feng spoke calmly, but everyone understood what he meant.

After failing three times to break through to Second Blood, Zhou Xiu's foundation of blood and qi had been damaged. He could never advance again, so there was no point in remaining at the academy.

As for the road ahead, he could join some gang and use his peak First Blood strength to become a small-time leader; he could serve as a guard in a wealthy merchant's estate and seek a quiet life; or he could follow Zhao Zonglin's example and become a constable, making a living with his martial strength. That was all.

"Yes. I'll remember your words."

Zhou Xiu bowed deeply, his voice barely concealing a sob.

He said nothing more. Turning, he returned to his room and hastily packed a few changes of clothes into a small bundle.

Then, without once looking up at anyone, he walked step by step out of the Fist Academy's gates under the gaze of countless complicated eyes. His figure gradually disappeared at the end of the alley, leaving behind only a lonely silhouette.