Departure

After returning to the Fist Academy, Chen Jing rested for a short while, then took a deep breath and once again assumed the starting stance of the River-Breaking Fist.

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

Since Xiang Lingfei was not at the Fist Academy, Fei Feng was rarely distracted, focusing intently on the movements of the Central Courtyard disciples and offering pointers from time to time.

Suddenly.

"What is happening to Senior Brother Zhou?"

A cry of alarm shattered the orderly rhythm of the Fist Academy, causing everyone to instinctively stop and look over.

Chen Jing paused as well, turning his head to watch.

In the center of the crowd, a tall man wearing the training gear of the River-Breaking Fist was throwing punches frantically.

Each of his strikes was heavier than the last, and his movements grew faster and faster. His skin turned visibly crimson, as if ignited by a scorching flame from within, and faint white steam even began to rise from his pores.

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

Watching this scene, a junior brother who had just broken through to the Blood Creek could not help but speak up.

This man was Zhou Xiu, who had joined the academy two years ago.

Last year, he had broken through to the Blood Creek in just over a month, his talent firmly ranking him among the best in the Central Courtyard. Just when everyone thought he would quickly step into the Blood River, he had become stuck at the peak of the Blood Creek for a long time, unable to cross that threshold.

Before them was his third attempt to break through to the Blood River!

Several senior brothers nearby wore grave expressions, staring fixedly at the scene. "That's right, Junior Brother Zhou is attempting to break his realm."

Someone's voice trembled, not daring to continue: "But he has already failed twice... if he fails again..."

Another said in a low voice: "His blood energy will shatter, and he will never have the possibility of stepping into the Second Blood in this lifetime."

These cold words spread quietly through the crowd, like several cold blades stabbing into everyone's hearts.

The atmosphere in the courtyard became suffocatingly heavy in an instant. Every gaze was locked onto Zhou Xiu, hearts tightening with anxiety.

Everyone knew that the Blood River realm was not a threshold that could be crossed by brute force alone; opportunity, talent, and foundation were all indispensable. Being off by even a hair's breadth meant total ruin.

Fei Feng frowned slightly, and Chen Jing's gaze remained calm. Neither spoke, simply watching the figure struggling to break through the realm.

Zhou Xiu was usually reticent and humble in his dealings with others, yet he was the most desperate when practicing his punches.

At this moment, his blood energy surged throughout his body. He poured every ounce of his strength into each punch, as if trying to smash all his forbearance and resentment from the past two years into that bottleneck.

Huff, huff.

Time ticked away second by second. Zhou Xiu's breathing grew increasingly heavy, like an old bellows, yet his punching speed became faster and faster. His fist shadows were as dense as a rainstorm, causing the air to emit a low, muffled wail.

The knotted muscles all over his body continued to swell, and the blood energy beneath his skin surged like rolling thunder, as if it would burst through his flesh and skin at any moment!

"He's done it! It looks like Senior Brother Zhou is really going to make it this time!"

Someone could not suppress their excitement, their voice trembling, and the tense atmosphere in the arena seemed to loosen slightly.

But just at this critical moment, when he was only one step away.

BANG!!!

A strange, muffled sound exploded from within Zhou Xiu's body. His fists suddenly stopped in mid-air, frozen as if cast in iron. His entire body seemed to be locked by invisible shackles, his strength instantly drained away, and he could not even stand steady.

Watching this, the atmosphere in the Fist Academy, which had just eased, instantly became incomparably tense once more.

The veins on Zhou Xiu's neck bulged, his eyes were bloodshot, and a hoarse, desperate roar squeezed from his throat: "Move... move!!!"

"Just move for me... move!!!"

At this moment, Zhou Xiu's voice was laced with blood, filled with nothing but resentment and despair, yet his body refused to obey, like a piece of dead wood about to snap, swaying precariously.

The next second.

BANG!!

Zhou Xiu fell backward like a puppet with cut strings, slamming heavily onto the cold stone floor. His chest heaved violently, and beads of sweat mixed with scalding tears slid down his cheeks, gathering at his chin before dripping onto the ground and shattering.

The blood energy surging around him faded at a visible rate, leaving behind only a pale, bloodless face.

Sweat, tears, and the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth intertwined on his face, looking both wretched and desolate.

Watching this, the entire Fist Academy fell into a deathly silence. Everyone remained frozen in place, their expressions complex.

After a long time, someone's voice trembled as they muttered: "Zhou Xiu... he failed after all."

A junior brother who had just entered the First Blood stood completely frozen, his face full of confusion: "But Senior Brother Zhou's talent is so good, and he practices the hardest... how could he fail?"

A senior brother nearby, who was also attempting to reach the Second Blood, had a gray, numb expression: "What does it matter if you have talent and work hard? The Blood River realm has never been something that can be reached by effort alone."

"If even someone like Senior Brother Zhou can't do it... then I..."

A disciple who had been preparing for a breakthrough for some time had dim eyes, his voice filled with self-doubt, and he fell into silence before he could finish his sentence.

More and more people shook their heads, sighed, or lowered their eyes in silence. The once-boiling Fist Academy was now left with nothing but a suffocating, deathly 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, deathly void that sent a chill down one's spine.

He knew better than anyone that he was finished.

His path of martial arts ended here, forever stalled at First Blood.

The expressions of the Fist Academy disciples grew increasingly heavy; some could not bear to watch and silently turned their heads away.

Others suppressed the bitterness in their hearts and turned back to continue throwing punches, yet their strikes lacked the vigor of days past.

Logically, they had long grown accustomed to such scenes, accustomed to watching one companion after another collapse before that bottleneck which seemed within reach, yet remained forever unattainable.

But every time they witnessed it, their hearts still ached, yet they were powerless to intervene.

"Sigh..."

A heavy sigh broke the deathly silence of the Fist Academy.

Fei Feng shook his head, a flicker of pity flashing in his eyes, but he said nothing more. With his hands behind his back, he turned and continued pacing through the Central Courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the frozen disciples as he spoke in a deep voice: "What are you all standing there for? Are you done practicing your punches?"

Having said this, he walked over to a disciple, raised a hand to correct the student's stance, and his tone returned to its usual severity.

It was as if Zhou Xiu's failure just now was merely a minor interlude in the countless daily routines of the Fist Academy.

After all, he had seen too much and had long grown accustomed to such partings and regrets.

At this moment, Chen Jing also withdrew his gaze from Zhou Xiu's dejected figure, his fingertips tightening slightly before he calmed his mind and continued to practice the River-Breaking Fist.

The wind of his punches whistled with biting force, yet in Chen Jing's mind, the hollow look in Zhou Xiu's eyes as he collapsed kept flashing by.

If not for the Exemption Bead, if not for the Burning Pulse Breakthrough Technique, he feared he would be just like Zhou Xiu—trapped at the peak of First Blood, exhausting everything to charge toward Second Blood, only to end up with his vital energy severed and his martial path destroyed.

Just then, Zhou Xiu slowly climbed up from the ground. His figure staggered, but once steady, he dragged his heavy footsteps toward Fei Feng, bowed deeply, and spoke in a voice so hoarse it was barely melodic: "Master... this disciple... wishes to resign."

Fei Feng's movements paused. He remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly, his tone carrying a trace of imperceptible exhaustion: "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. You know the rules of the academy; once you step into the pugilistic world, think thrice before you act, and do not bring shame upon our academy."

Fei Feng spoke plainly, yet everyone understood the implication.

Zhou Xiu had failed his attempt to reach Second Blood three times, and his foundation of vital energy was damaged. With no possibility of further advancement in this life, there was naturally no point in him remaining at the Fist Academy.

The road ahead was nothing more than joining some gang to scrape by as a leader with his First Blood peak strength, working as a guard at a wealthy merchant's estate for stability, or perhaps becoming a constable like Zhao Zonglin, relying on his martial prowess to earn a living—nothing more.

"Yes, this disciple will keep it in mind."

Zhou Xiu kowtowed deeply, his voice choked with unconcealable sobs.

He said nothing more, turned, and returned to his room, where he simply packed a few clothes into a small bundle.

Without looking up at anyone, he walked step by step out of the Fist Academy gate under the gaze of countless complex eyes. His figure gradually vanished into the alleyway, leaving behind only a lonely silhouette.