Hostility

"Junior Brother Zhao, I need to remind you of something. The martial exam is certainly important, but if you encounter an opponent you cannot match, surrender as soon as things start going wrong. Never force yourself to fight. You're still young; there will be more opportunities ahead. If you stubbornly try to prove yourself and are severely injured by someone ruthless, even damaging your future path in martial arts, it simply won't be worth it," Wei Yuan said.

"Don't worry, Senior Brother Wei. I know my limits." Zhao Feng nodded. His master had said the same thing yesterday. Wei Yuan was probably worried that he was young and hot-blooded.

"Junior Brother Zhao, see you in the top thirty-two." Wei Yuan bumped fists with him, encouraging himself. In truth, he had his own little calculation—Junior Brother Zhao had always been lucky. If he borrowed some of Zhao Feng's luck, perhaps he really could make it into the top thirty-two.

Zhao Feng headed to the eighth arena. A Hidden Force disciple from the Huo Family Martial Arts School had been assigned there, and the two were chatting.

Suddenly, he sensed someone watching him. When he turned around, he saw a richly dressed young man behind him withdraw his gaze and resume chatting with someone else.

Having lived two lives, with his souls superimposed, Zhao Feng's senses had always been sharper than most. He could clearly sense a faint hostility toward him from this person.

Strange. They had never met, so why was there hostility?

"Brother Xue, I didn't expect us to be assigned to the same arena. If we meet, I hope you'll go easy on me," a martial artist beside him said to the richly dressed youth with a forced smile.

Xue? Zhao Feng frowned slightly. He instantly recalled that during yesterday's archery and horsemanship test, he seemed to have seen his Second Senior Brother Wei Yuan greet and chat with this man. But Wei Yuan was such a good-natured person and knew many people, so Zhao Feng had not paid it much attention.

Wei Yuan had once mentioned that the Xue Family's eldest young master—Xue Xiangling's older brother—was a Hidden Force martial artist. Could this be him?

The strongest competitor in the eighth arena, the so-called seeded contender, was Wu Peng of the Wind-Shaking Martial Arts School, whom Huo Shan had mentioned yesterday. He was at the peak of Hidden Force. As long as Zhao Feng did not encounter him, he should be confident in handling everyone else.

At this moment, the early winter wind carried a faint chill as it swept dust across the training grounds. Several hundred examinees, examiners, spectators, and others waited with tense expressions for the arena matches to begin.

As time passed, even the increasingly fierce wind could not mask the nervous breathing of the hundreds gathered there, nor the solemn, heavy atmosphere.

At last, the examiners finalized the order of matches for every arena. After three strikes of the gong—

The first round of matches quickly began across the arenas.

At the eighth arena, an official serving as an examiner walked over and stood in the center of the platform, announcing the contestants for the first match of the first round.

"Jiang Chuan of the Dragon Tiger Martial Arts School versus Wen Sanyong," the examiner announced.

If an examinee came from a known family, sect, martial arts school, or escort agency, their affiliation would be announced. Those called by name alone were independent martial artists—martial artists from ordinary society—or people who had returned from other regions. The identities and household registrations of such independent martial artists had to undergo repeated verification to ensure they were not from bandit gangs, notorious outlaws, evil sects, and the like.

Zhao Feng had previously heard Jiang Chuan's name. He was considered a known Hidden Force expert. As for this Wen Sanyong, Zhao Feng had no idea what level he was at.

Wen Sanyong wore a fitted black outfit. Though he appeared calm after stepping onto the platform, Zhao Feng could still see panic and unease in his eyes. In contrast, Jiang Chuan ascended with his hands behind his back, his steps steady and composed. That was true calm.

At the examiner's command, the match began. Jiang Chuan assumed an opening stance but did not attack. Wen Sanyong clenched both fists, his fingers turning white as conflict showed on his face. Seconds ticked by. Finally, he could no longer hold back. "Please enlighten me!" He lunged forward and drove a punch directly at Jiang Chuan. The blow was broad and powerful, clearly from a northern style of boxing.

The moment Wen Sanyong threw his punch, Zhao Feng understood why he had looked so uneasy and conflicted earlier. Though his fist wind was fierce, his force was clearly only at Overt Force. Even if he was at the peak, facing a known Hidden Force expert meant he knew he was outmatched. Though he had mentally prepared himself, he still hoped to at least put on a good showing and last longer, so that some wealthy family or powerful clan might take notice of him.

Zhao Feng also hoped he could hold out longer, so he could use the opportunity to observe Jiang Chuan's strength. He had kept his head down training at the martial arts school and did not know much about the other Hidden Force experts outside. He could also tell that Wen Sanyong had another move in reserve: his left fist, which he had held back without releasing. His right fist was merely a feint.

Seeing Wen Sanyong's fist wind bearing down on him, Jiang Chuan remained unhurried. His left hand shot out like a nimble snake, coiling around Wen Sanyong's wrist, while his right hand slashed diagonally along the bend of the other man's arm. It was the Dragon Tiger Palm's Binding Tiger Form. This move combined softness with strength. Borrowing the opponent's force with a pull, it shattered Wen Sanyong's hidden left punch with that diagonally cutting right palm.

"Good!" A chorus of praise rose from the knowledgeable spectators below the platform.

What a move—deflecting and striking in one. Zhao Feng nodded. Jiang Chuan had likewise seen through his opponent's feint, but rather than following the opponent's rhythm, he simply struck at both the feint and the real attack together.

By then, Wen Sanyong's footing was already unstable. He was dragged into stumbling forward, and Jiang Chuan's palm slowly pressed toward him. In his panic, Wen Sanyong brought up his elbow to block. With a muffled bang, he felt abundant internal force surge from Jiang Chuan's palm, shattering his own strength before penetrating his body.

He staggered back several steps, his face turning deathly pale as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for showing mercy." He lowered his head and cupped his fists, his expression dim. Peak Overt Force and Hidden Force were separated by only a thin line, yet that line was like a chasm. Aside from a handful of astonishing geniuses capable of challenging above their level, most people could never cross it. That included the gap in perception. He had used both a feint and misdirection, yet it had still been effortlessly seen through.

Jiang Chuan nodded in acknowledgment without speaking.

The examiner stepped forward and announced, "Jiang Chuan of the Dragon Tiger Martial Arts School wins."

Zhao Feng frowned slightly. Jiang Chuan was undoubtedly formidable. His eye was sharp, his grasp of timing skilled, his attacks decisive, and his force carried Entangling Force, allowing him to deflect and strike at once. Zhao Feng memorized several traits of his techniques. Unfortunately, the victory had come too quickly for him to see much more. It was somewhat regrettable.

He turned his gaze to the adjacent seventh arena. His Third Senior Brother Wang Yu had also easily defeated an Overt Force martial artist in the previous match.

Zhao Feng then shifted his attention back and continued watching the other martial artists on his arena. Even when it was a match between Overt Force martial artists, he observed carefully, absorbing any useful experience.

"Third match of the first round: Xue Jun of the Xue Family versus Yue Shengdong of the Might-Reaching Escort Agency!"

After the examiner's announcement, the richly robed youth from earlier stepped onto the platform. So he really is from the Xue Family. He's Xue Xiangling's older brother. Zhao Feng was puzzled.

Xue Xiangling had been the one to reject him. Why did Xue Jun harbor hostility toward him?

Xue Jun stood with his feet lightly planted and his arms hanging naturally at his sides, though his wrists trembled faintly. "This is..." Zhao Feng frowned as he pondered it. He vaguely guessed what style of boxing the other man practiced.

On the other side, Yue Shengdong of the Might-Reaching Escort Agency clenched his fists at his waist. The knotted muscles in his arms bulged slightly, and an imposing aura capable of shattering a thousand pounds of force rushed toward his opponent.

"Begin!" Yue Shengdong attacked first. His fist swept out amid a gust of force, its fist wind howling. The blow was heavy and powerful; if it landed solidly, it could probably smash a wooden post apart. It was also a northern boxing style.

Though his momentum was fierce, it was still clear that he was only at the peak of Overt Force.

Xue Jun shifted his feet in a half-circle, his body swaying as he slipped directly to the side. Before Yue Shengdong could withdraw his move, Xue Jun's arms snapped out like long whips. With a flick of his wrist, his five fingers curled into a fist and shot toward Yue Shengdong's shoulder well. The palm wind carried a tricky, sharp force, so fast that its trajectory was impossible to see clearly.

Crack! In the blink of an eye, Yue Shengdong's shoulder well had been struck. Hidden Force penetrated his body, leaving his entire right arm instantly sore and numb. Immediately afterward, Xue Jun's palm blade stopped at his throat.

"Young Master Xue, thank you for showing mercy!" Yue Shengdong's face reddened as he cupped his fists in thanks.

Xue Jun nodded with a smile. As he stepped down from the platform, his eyes seemingly casually glanced in Zhao Feng's direction.