Exulting as He Claimed First Place

Yuan Cheng was the last to take the stage, winning with ease.

At this point, only nine victors remained in the arena, and they would proceed to the next round of drawing lots.

Because of the odd number of contestants, the rules changed this time. Lots one through nine would pair one against nine, two against eight, and so on, while the holder of lot number five would receive a bye.

Zhu Yingxiong drew lot number one again, while Yuan Cheng fortunately drew number five.

His luck continued into the next round. When they drew lots again, Yuan Cheng somehow drew the only bye once more.

Thus, Zhu Yingxiong fought battle after battle, advancing steadily and almost effortlessly into the finals. Yuan Cheng, meanwhile, received two byes and practically coasted all the way to the end.

The sun climbed higher, and it was already noon. This Dharma Hall tournament had reached its final match.

On the plum blossom stakes, Zhu Yingxiong and Yuan Cheng stood facing each other.

"Just as expected, it has come down to you and me," Zhu Yingxiong said.

"From the moment I first saw you, Junior Brother, I knew you were extraordinary." Yuan Cheng's round face wore a warm smile, though his eyes had grown more serious. "Yet I still greatly underestimated your strength."

"Please, Junior Brother," Yuan Cheng said.

"No, Senior Brother should go first."

"Ah, you are the junior and I am the senior. How could I take advantage of you? No, no."

The two actually began yielding to one another atop the stakes. The monks below were briefly stunned before bursting into laughter, urging them on from all sides.

Yet Zhu Yingxiong showed no hurry to attack. "Since Senior Brother refuses to make the first move, and I have fought several matches in a row, I happen to be somewhat fatigued. I shall take this chance to rest for a moment."

With that, he actually sat cross-legged atop the bowl-thick stake and began regulating his breathing, as though he had no concern that Yuan Cheng might attack while he was vulnerable.

Zhu Yingxiong's behavior left all the monks present bewildered.

Yuan Cheng sighed. "So Junior Brother saw through it long ago."

Zhu Yingxiong opened his eyes and said calmly, "I watched several of Senior Brother's matches. Though you have mastered such a peerless technique as the Clear Still Finger, you have always subdued motion with stillness and struck only after your opponent moved. I imagine this is partly due to the nature of the technique itself, and partly because... Senior Brother has not practiced it for long enough. You have yet to reach the harmonious realm where stillness and motion follow the heart, where advance and retreat come freely."

The moment those words were spoken, the monks below froze for a moment before a buzz of discussion erupted.

They had not considered it closely before, but once it had been pointed out, they suddenly realized—Yuan Cheng had indeed never taken the initiative in his previous two matches. No matter how swift his opponent's footwork or how fierce their attacks, he had always stood firmly atop his stake, only raising a finger to strike once they came within three feet of him. Victory and defeat were then decided in an instant.

They had assumed that his profound cultivation allowed him to win with composure. They had not expected such a limitation to be hidden beneath it.

"I thought I had concealed it well, yet you still saw through me." Yuan Cheng shook his head with a bitter smile.

"Senior Brother Yuan Zhen has fought continuously and must be exhausted. Why does Senior Brother Yuan Cheng not take the chance to attack?" a young novice monk in the front row could not help asking.

"How do you know this is not a tactic to lure the enemy?" an older scholarly monk beside him murmured. "What if his breathing exercise is merely a pretense, intended to bait you into attacking first? The moment you move first, you lose the greatest advantage of the Clear Still Finger and instead fall into his scheme."

"Th-this..."

On the stakes, Yuan Cheng's usual smile gradually faded. His brows furrowed slightly as his gaze lingered on Zhu Yingxiong, who sat quietly regulating his breath. Clearly, he was hesitating.

But the next moment, he suddenly leaped up and drifted down from the platform like a falling leaf. Facing Yuan Zhuo, the match official, he pressed his palms together in salute.

"I concede this match."

This utterly exceeded everyone's expectations. The entire arena erupted in an uproar!

Even Zhu Yingxiong had not expected him to concede so decisively.

Yuan Zhuo paused briefly, then announced in a ringing voice, "Yuan Zhen wins this match!"

Zhu Yingxiong leaped down from the stake, walked to Yuan Cheng's side, and asked quietly, "Senior Brother, you conceded without even trying?"

"The moment I hesitated, I had already lost." Yuan Cheng's smile returned as he answered frankly, "Once the momentum of the heart has fallen, why force a fight? Junior Brother saw through the limitations of my technique and seized the advantage with wisdom. You won this match fairly and clearly. I am fully convinced."

The monks present had expected the highly anticipated final match to be a fierce clash between dragons and tigers. Instead, without a single punch or kick being exchanged, victory and defeat had already been decided. Though the outcome was unexpected, the more they reflected on it, the more novel and memorable it seemed.

Unable to restrain himself, a young disciple called out, "Elder, if we encounter such a dilemma in the future, where attack and defense are both difficult, how should we choose and break the deadlock?"

Elder Unattached stepped forward. His lean, powerful frame stood solemn and still, carrying the bearing of deep waters and towering mountains.

His lightning-like gaze swept across the entire arena before he spoke in a deep voice, every word forceful and clear. "When faced with such a situation, either attack with fierce, indomitable resolve and break the enemy's momentum by force. Let them have a thousand tricks—I shall shatter them all with my own strength. Or suppress it with stillness, hold firm to your original heart, and no matter how they provoke you, remain unmoved."

He paused slightly, his gaze falling upon Yuan Cheng, who stood quietly at the edge of the arena. His expression softened somewhat.

"Yet today, Nephew Yuan Cheng saw the stakes clearly in that fleeting instant. Knowing something could not be done, he calmly abandoned it. He was not shackled by victory or defeat, nor trapped by pride and reputation. His decision was decisive, born of clear wisdom. Such a thing cannot be done without great intelligence and courage."

Finally, his gaze swept over the monks once more. His tone was earnest, and his voice carried throughout the courtyard.

"You must remember: a martial artist's battles are never merely contests of inner strength or the superiority of techniques. They are also contests of will, vision, and judgment. If the heart is obstructed, even ten parts of strength cannot bring forth five; if the mind is clear and unimpeded, five parts of strength may achieve the effect of ten. I hope you will constantly examine yourselves and ponder these principles deeply."

"Yes, we shall remember Elder's teachings!"

The monks answered in unison, their voices ringing like a bell and echoing endlessly through the courtyard. In the eyes of many young disciples, the light of thought and excitement had already begun to burn.

Yuan Zhuo stepped forward at the right moment and declared loudly, delivering the final verdict for this contest.

"According to the rules, the champion of this Dharma Hall tournament is—Yuan Zhen!"

As his voice fell, applause and murmurs gradually rose. The martial monks re-formed their ranks in order. Though the matches had ended, the atmosphere in the arena became even more solemn and dignified.

At this moment, Chan Master Worryless slowly rose from his seat. Dressed in plain monk's robes, his white brows hung low as he gazed calmly at the disciples standing below. He did not raise his voice, yet his tranquil words seemed to sound beside every person's ear.

"This tournament has now concluded successfully. The first-place victor is Yuan Zhen."

He paused briefly before continuing in the same unruffled voice.

"Do any of you monks have objections to this result?"

The area below fell utterly silent. From his first match to the final round, Zhu Yingxiong's path had unfolded under everyone's watchful eyes. He had overwhelmed Yuan Hong head-on, defeated Yuan Xing through the mysteries of his fingertips, and held the final match firmly in the palm of his hand through strategy. Even though no blows had been exchanged in the last battle, he had still won openly and fairly through wisdom. Everyone was convinced, and none could find the slightest fault.

"Yuan Zhen, come forward."

Zhu Yingxiong obeyed and walked to the front of the platform, standing before the three elders.

Chan Master Worryless watched him silently, his gaze as deep and still as an ancient well. Then he suddenly asked a shocking question.

"You won this championship. From what I have seen of your martial arts, have you already mastered the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture?" Chan Master Worryless asked.

The instant those words fell, the entire arena seemed to freeze solid.

Elder Sorrowless's hand stopped where it rested on his belly. Elder Unattached's eyes sharpened. The monks below widened their eyes as countless gazes fixed upon Zhu Yingxiong.

Zhu Yingxiong pressed his palms together in salute and answered frankly.

"Yes. This disciple was fortunate enough to gain an initial glimpse of its gateway."

"Boom—"

The startled discussions below could no longer be suppressed, surging forth like boiling water.

"The Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture?! He really mastered it?!"

"No wonder... no wonder his injuries healed so quickly, and his finger force was so solid!"

"Shaolin has produced another genius who has mastered the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture!"

A trace of relieved satisfaction passed through the depths of Chan Master Worryless's eyes, though his expression remained calm as water. He merely nodded slightly and said warmly, "Good."

Chan Master Worryless had deliberately revealed the matter before everyone for a reason. First, it was to establish his disciple's name and prestige, making his achievements and cultivation clear to all so that none could question him again.

Second, it was to build this young disciple's reputation. A youthful hero needed the attention of all eyes to establish himself. After all, the martial world was filled with dangerous storms; the clear cry of a fledgling phoenix needed wind and clouds to carry it far.

From his sleeve, he took out a small bottle of creamy white jade. Its surface was smooth and warm, with a faint gleam flowing across it. He held it out before Zhu Yingxiong.

"This is a Little Rejuvenation Pill, awarded according to the rules to the champion of this tournament. I hope you will preserve your original heart, cultivate diligently without cease, and one day use this cultivation to bring glory to Shaolin martial arts."

"Thank you, Master, for your generous gift." Zhu Yingxiong stepped forward and respectfully accepted the jade bottle with both hands.