Victory (please keep reading)

Before coming, Tian Er had studied the Sand-Turning Palm and knew how powerful it became at minor mastery.

The Night Heron Style excelled at flexibility and variation. In a head-on clash, its power fell short of the Sand-Turning Palm.

Although Li Xiuwen's palm strike had only just reached minor mastery, it still carried an overwhelming force.

The flesh on Tian Er's chest rippled like a wave, caving deeply inward.

He staggered backward uncontrollably, his eyes bulging. At last, unable to contain that force, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

The Soft Palm's penetrating force was formidable. His internal organs shifted, shuddering like a struck bell. The pain was unbearable.

Bang! Li Xiuwen followed up with a third palm strike. Tian Er flew off the platform and landed in Longlegs Seven's arms, his face as red as a monkey's backside.

"You..." Tian Er lost his head and tried to climb back onto the platform, but Longlegs Seven stopped him. "You already lost. Want to go up there and embarrass yourself again?"

"Eldest senior brother, he-he must have secretly watched us train!" Tian Er said.

Standing on the platform, Li Xiuwen bowed to Huang Sihai and Master Ye, then turned and left.

"Great!" A Zhen clapped and cheered.

"A Wen, you're amazing! You actually beat Tian Er!" Big Silly Qiang was delighted.

Watching from a distance, Old Chen smiled with satisfaction. "My brother Li really is no ordinary man."

Despite losing three matches in a row, Huang Sihai now looked pleased. He smiled and said, "Master Ye, I hear Tian Er's combat method is nearly at great mastery?"

Master Ye's expression shifted, but he said nothing.

Huang Sihai continued, "My disciple A Wen only reached minor mastery in the Sand-Turning Palm recently, yet Tian Er actually lost... Was he practicing the Frog Fist rather than the Waterbird Fist?"

Huang Sihai's words were vicious.

The Frog Fist was a relatively well-known underworld wild fist among southern martial arts.

The Waterbird Fist, on the other hand, was an orthodox art originating from the renowned White Crane Style.

His implication was obvious: his disciple's newly mastered Sand-Turning Palm had beaten the other man's nearly perfected Waterbird Fist, proving the Sea Sand Style's superiority.

Naturally, the old man opposite him was unhappy with that comparison.

Master Ye sneered. "Master Huang, you're this excited after three losses and one win? You're far too easily satisfied."

Huang Sihai refused to take the bait. "Heh, my disciple A Wen has only ordinary aptitude. Doesn't his beating one of Pine Hall's Four Talents prove how strong my Sea Sand Style is?"

Master Ye shot back, "Hah. Nothing more than a caged chicken fattened on fish balls."

Huang Sihai smiled. "Fish balls can let someone with ordinary aptitude reach minor mastery in the Sand-Turning Palm in just over a month? Then wouldn't my Four Seas Martial Arts Hall be overflowing with geniuses?"

The two old fellows belittled each other, both openly and through insinuations.

Thus ended the matches between the Night Heron Martial Arts Hall's Pine Hall's Four Talents and the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall's First-Floor Disciples.

Next came the Second-Floor Disciples' matches. Li Xiuwen took the opportunity to stay and watch.

The Second-Floor Disciples were indeed fierce. Their punches howled through the air, their figures flashed, and the floor trembled beneath them. Their clashes were far more imposing than those of disciples at the membrane gate.

Ultimately, although those at the membrane gate were strong, that strength was mainly relative to ordinary people. In a chaotic melee, ordinary people armed with blades could still surround and kill them.

But at the second gate, qi and blood surged, and every movement carried enough power to shatter stone. Against ordinary people, they were in a different league altogether.

Today's hall challenge had truly broadened Li Xiuwen's horizons. He was no longer satisfied with the black membrane realm.

The second gate... Even in a large gang, that would make you a Straw Sandal, a core member, a capable fighter. You'd count as someone who'd made it in the Enclave.

Compared with the hopeless bunch on the first floor, the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall's Second-Floor Disciples performed quite well.

In particular, a burly man with an afro named Ao Jiu left a deep impression on Li Xiuwen.

With every movement, it seemed as though a giant whale cruised around him, bringing an overwhelming surge of power.

He decisively defeated "Big Guy," reputed to be the strongest member of the Night Heron Martial Arts Hall's Egret Hall, securing their only victory.

A beautiful, fair-skinned senior sister with long legs named Lu Yu was also formidable.

She was every bit a match for the men. Although she lost to a male martial artist from Egret Hall, she still drew repeated cheers from the spectators.

A busty girl named Little Dragon also performed creditably, though she lost in the end.

Finally, there was someone named Chen Jia, who also practiced the Iron Cloth Shirt hard qigong. His stances and strikes were solid and direct, immensely fierce.

Unfortunately, his opponent far surpassed him in both cultivation and combat method. However strong his defense was, he was merely a punching bag that could take a little more punishment. He lasted a hundred exchanges before losing.

Although the second floor's contest with Egret Hall still ended in three losses and one win, the Night Heron side had only won narrowly.

Unlike the first floor, where everyone except Li Xiuwen had been utterly crushed.

Chun Liu, in particular, had been thoroughly humiliated, defeated by Longlegs Seven in just a few moves.

Jiu Ao, Lu Yu, Little Dragon, Chen Jia... These will be my senior brothers and sisters in the future.

Every one of them is at least as talented as Chun Liu. Once I join them, there'll be another fierce struggle.

Li Xiuwen thought to himself, confident about the competition awaiting him on the second floor.

By noon, the grand hall challenge had ended.

Looking at the reporter from Ming Pao, Master Ye smiled. His purpose for coming had already been achieved. "Master Huang, thank you for going easy on us. We'll visit again another day!"

Huang Sihai was smiling broadly too. "Don't rush off. I'll have someone prepare a fine meal."

"No need. Let me save you a little money." Master Ye turned and left with his disciples and the tall foreign woman.

The reporters and spectators all dispersed. With the clamor gone, the martial arts hall grew quiet.

Huang Sihai sat in his seat, drinking tea alone in silence.

"Master, your disciple was useless..." Chun Liu broke the silence, kneeling on the floor.

"Get up. That old fellow Ye finally found a precious talent after all these years and poured everything into training him. It's only natural you couldn't beat Longlegs Seven," Huang Sihai said, waving a hand.

"I... I made a mistake," Big Silly Qiang said with his head lowered.

"You did make a mistake. You had a chance to win!" Huang Sihai glanced at him coldly.

"Master, you won't blame me, right? I'm just a delicate girl..." A Zhen said, pouting.

Huang Sihai sighed, looking weary. What sort of disciples were these? Perhaps he needed to raise his admission standards.

"A Wen, have you practiced the Waterbird Fist?" He looked toward Li Xiuwen in the corner and asked calmly.

Li Xiuwen shook his head. "No. I've just been watching matches at the big arena whenever I've had time lately. I felt like I picked up a few things."

Huang Sihai was surprised. He felt he had still underestimated Li Xiuwen.

He could grasp the practical striking techniques of an unfamiliar martial art so quickly just by watching bouts.

Such combat talent was truly rare. In some respects, it was even rarer than superior natural aptitude.

No wonder the boy hadn't wanted to perform at the big arena the other day. He really could give him

a pleasant surprise.

"A Wen, I wasn't wrong about you. Stay a little later today. I'll teach you movement techniques." With that, Huang Sihai left with his hands behind his back, his retreating figure looking somewhat lonely.

"Congratulations, A Wen," Big Silly Qiang said. "You get to learn movement techniques now! That's good stuff only Second-Floor Disciples are qualified to learn."

A Zhen also came over to congratulate him. Liu Chun left alone, her eyes red.

Li Xiuwen truly bore Liu Chun no ill will. He simply regarded her as a rival.

Having lived two lives, he took a broad view of things.

Liu Chun was only sixteen, at an age when youthful arrogance came naturally.

He could understand her various words and actions.

Her plea today-"Master, let me try just this once"-had even moved him a little.

At the Night Heron Martial Arts Hall,

Master Ye heard from Longlegs Seven that Li Xiuwen had previously come for Fist Training.

Longlegs Seven lowered his head. "Master, were we wrong to drive him away back then?"

"Having regrets?" Master Ye asked with a smile.

Longlegs Seven shook his head. "Not really. I'm just worried I made you miss out on a talented disciple."

"It doesn't matter," Master Ye said. "The boy's cultivation was most likely forced up with fish balls. Nothing remarkable. What stands out... is his comprehension, his grasp of combat methods."

"But however good his comprehension is, what determines a martial artist's cultivation is still their physical aptitude... With poor physical aptitude, comprehension is rootless duckweed, with nothing to draw strength from. It amounts to little."

Hearing this, Longlegs Seven shed his remaining doubts and smiled. "I understand."

"Seven, don't grow conceited over this hall challenge victory. With your aptitude, this is only the beginning," Master Ye said earnestly.

"Those people from the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall aren't even qualified to be your stepping stones. Your goals are the Rivercrossing Association and the Academic Society!"