Not Worth Mentioning

Fang Han straightened up and took a deep breath.

He did not rush to throw a punch. Instead, he quickly ran through the Twelve Forms of Gale-Breaking Fist in his mind.

He had long since memorized the Twelve Forms of Gale-Breaking Fist by heart.

It was his first Minor Exam, and Fang Han did not intend to hide his abilities. What he needed to show, he would show.

Only by letting the martial hall see his value could he gain more resources and opportunities while remaining flexible and low-key.

Fang Han's gaze suddenly sharpened. Both fists shot out as he unleashed the first form of the Gale-Breaking Fist—his punches swift as the wind!

As his fists swung out, they tore through the air with a crisp snap, like a whip cracking.

Then came the second form...

The third form...

The fourth form...

Fang Han's fist technique suddenly changed.

It was no longer simple straight-line strikes. His punches carried faint arcs, their force extending from his fists as though an invisible thread linked each move to the next.

His fist winds flowed without end, his momentum surging like a rainbow.

He stepped forward, twisted his waist and hips sharply, and drew his dragon-like spine taut like a great bow. His right fist shot out from his waist, carrying spiraling force.

Snap!

The blast of fist wind rang out, deeper and heavier than before.

Fang Han withdrew his fist and stood firmly in place, neither flushed nor winded.

The training ground fell silent for a moment before discussion surged like boiling water.

"Twelve forms?! He actually made it to the twelfth form?"

"No way? He only joined a few days ago. It took me a month just to reach the sixth form..."

"Isn't that comprehension completely insane? Minor Accomplishment in the Gale-Breaking Fist?"

"His fist technique is already fluid, and his power has the force to break the air and strike the wind. This is definitely Minor Accomplishment!"

"The Outer Court has produced another genius."

Huo Zheng's eyes narrowed slightly. After two breaths of silence, he gave a brief assessment. "Fluid fist technique, Minor Accomplishment. Grade B+."

Grade B+!

The moment that rating was announced, even the several Inner-Court Direct Disciples who had been acting indifferent glanced over.

Fang Han was slightly startled as well.

He had thought the best he could receive was a Grade B, but Huo Zheng had directly given him a B+.

The discussions on the training ground grew even louder.

"B+! He got a B+ after only training for a few days?"

"I remember Zhao Jing only got a B on his first Minor Exam, right?"

"That comprehension is practically on par with Zhao Jing's..."

"Don't talk nonsense. Zhao Jing has good bone constitution and good comprehension. Fang Han has a Lower-grade Bone Constitution. What use is good comprehension alone?"

"That's true. If his bone constitution is poor, his progress will slow down later on."

Zhao Jing had been idly straightening his cuffs. When he heard Senior Brother Huo announce the B+ rating, his fingers paused slightly.

He looked up, his gaze falling on Fang Han's back in the middle of the field, and a trace of surprise flashed through his eyes.

A mud-legged peasant got a B+ after training for only a few days?

But that surprise lasted only an instant. Zhao Jing withdrew his gaze, a careless smile curling at his lips.

So what if Fang Han had trained the Gale-Breaking Fist to a B+?

In the world of Martial Artists, those with a Lower-grade Bone Constitution were destined not to go far.

A loach in the mud, no matter how much it thrashed, could never become a true dragon.

He lowered his head again and continued straightening his cuffs as though that momentary surprise had never happened.

Fang Han bowed to Huo Zheng once more. "Thank you, Senior Brother."

Walking up to the Soft Sand Bag, Fang Han looked at the waist-high bag and took a deep breath.

I can't unleash my full strength for the fist-force test...

Two strands of Blood Qi combined with Minor Accomplishment in the Gale-Breaking Fist—if he struck with all his strength, he could produce at least five hundred pounds of fist force.

If that level of fist force appeared, the entire martial hall would be shaken.

When that happened, all his secrets would be examined under a magnifying glass.

He did not want to reveal so much yet.

Having made up his mind, Fang Han lightly clenched his right fist and suppressed his strength to around thirty percent.

He lowered his waist, exerted force, and punched.

Bang!

The sandbag swayed gently, not by much. The movement was even less noticeable than that of many apprentices before him.

Lin Rou stepped forward and bent down to inspect the fist mark on the bag's surface.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she said coolly, "Two inches and one mark."

Two hundred and ten pounds.

A low wave of disappointed murmurs rose across the training ground.

"Only two inches and one mark? He reached Minor Accomplishment in the Gale-Breaking Fist, yet he only has two hundred and ten pounds of force?"

"I told you, with poor bone constitution, his fist force just won't rise."

"What use is good comprehension? If his strength can't keep up, he'll be knocked down with one punch in a real fight."

The comments rose and fell, but they differed from before.

This time, there was no surprise—only talk of, "I knew it would be like this."

Lin Rou looked at Fang Han, and obvious disappointment flashed through her cool eyes.

Fist force barely reaching two hundred pounds could only be considered below average among Outer Court apprentices.

Moreover, Fang Han had already reached Minor Accomplishment in the Gale-Breaking Fist. Under normal circumstances, an apprentice at Minor Accomplishment in a fist technique should have at least two hundred and fifty pounds of fist force.

What did that mean?

It meant Fang Han's bone constitution was simply too poor!

His muscles, tendons, bones, and Blood Qi were innately inferior to those of others.

Even if he comprehended fist techniques quickly, his physical body could not keep pace.

Lin Rou lowered her eyes and wrote two inches and one mark in the record book, silently letting out a sigh.

What a pity.

Fang Han ignored the discussions and did not look at Lin Rou's expression.

He withdrew his fist, his face calm as he calculated in silence.

Thirty percent of my strength can produce two hundred and ten pounds of fist force. At full strength, six hundred pounds should be guaranteed.

Zhao Jing was called a genius with four hundred and fifty pounds. So what did his six hundred pounds make him?

Fang Han shook his head inwardly without changing expression, then turned and walked back.

Huo Zheng watched Fang Han's retreating back, his brows faintly furrowed as he felt something was off.

A fist technique at Minor Accomplishment yet only two hundred and ten pounds of fist force truly went against common sense.

Fang Han's physique was thin, but it should not have been so weak that he could produce only two hundred and ten pounds of force.

Huo Zheng secretly shook his head. Bone constitution truly is the foundation.

The three Inner-Court Direct Disciples behind him were also talking quietly.

"Only two hundred and ten pounds despite Minor Accomplishment in his fist technique. Just how bad must that bone constitution be?"

"A Lower-grade Bone Constitution—normal enough. I heard people with lower-grade bone constitutions have weaker muscle fibers than ordinary people, and their tendons and bones aren't as tough either. Producing two hundred pounds already means he trained diligently."

"What a waste of that comprehension. If he had a better bone constitution, reaching Dark Strength wouldn't be a problem."

"Bone constitution is predetermined. There's nothing to regret. In this world, what's scarce isn't comprehension—it's bone constitution."

Listening to the three men behind him, Huo Zheng secretly agreed.

Yet his expression remained calm, revealing no emotion.

Still, his assessment of Fang Han had already been set: an apprentice with a small surprise to offer, but one who would ultimately not go far.

Fang Han returned to the crowd.

Li Daniu sidled up to him, his face full of confusion. "Fang Han, your Gale-Breaking Fist has already reached Minor Accomplishment. Why is your fist force only two hundred pounds? Didn't you eat enough?"

"My strength is small. I was born that way."

Li Daniu opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.

Watching Fang Han's back as he returned to the crowd, Zhao Jing sneered.

He turned to the companions beside him. His voice was not loud, but it carried far enough for everyone around to hear.

"See that? This is what happens when mud-legged peasants practice martial arts."

"No family background, no bone constitution, and he thinks a bellyful of passion is enough to practice martial arts and change his fate? What a joke. He could train until he dies and still be a useless piece of trash with only two hundred pounds of fist force."

He paused, his tone carrying condescending pity.

"People like him are only fit to crawl and struggle in the mud. Practice martial arts? It's just a waste of time. Today's Minor Exam results are the best proof."

Several descendants of prominent families beside him nodded in agreement.

"Brother Zhao is right. If your bone constitution is poor, no amount of training will help."

"A Lower-grade Bone Constitution wants to rise through martial arts? Does he really think anyone can walk the martial path?"

"Brother Zhao condensed Blood Qi in just three months. What does a mud-legged peasant like him have to compare?"

Listening to their words, the smile at Zhao Jing's lips deepened.

He gave Fang Han's back one final glance before completely withdrawing his attention.

He was just an insignificant nobody.