Ranked Fourth

Huo Zheng stood in the center of the field, his gaze sweeping across all the apprentices. His tone was calm, yet carried unquestionable authority.

"Today's Minor Exam has concluded. The rankings will now be announced."

The training ground instantly fell silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the final results.

"First place, Zhao Jing."

Zhao Jing stood with his hands behind his back, the corners of his lips slightly raised. He looked proud, as though this result was only natural.

"Brother Zhao is first again, just as expected!"

"What's so surprising about that? Brother Zhao condensed Blood Qi in just three months. He's unquestionably the number one in the Outer Court."

For a time, praises rang out one after another. Several disciples from prominent families gathered around Zhao Jing and showered him with compliments.

Zhao Jing gave a slight nod in response, but the arrogance on his face only grew stronger, as though accepting such praise was only right.

"Second place, Su Yuhuan."

Huo Zheng continued the announcement.

No one was surprised.

Su Yuhuan's strength was beyond doubt. His firm hold on second place had long been acknowledged by everyone.

Su Yuhuan remained calm and cupped his fists toward Huo Zheng in salute.

He was as composed as ever, as though he felt neither delight nor disappointment at this ranking. He simply accepted the result he deserved.

"Four portions of Blood-Qi Soup. Senior Brother Su has it locked down again."

"Senior Brother Su's family deals in medicinal herbs, so he doesn't lack such things to begin with. Still, a reward is always a good thing."

Su Yuhuan's expression remained unchanged, though a faint trace of unwillingness flickered deep in his eyes.

Second place and first place were ultimately separated by a step.

"Third place..." Huo Zheng paused slightly.

A low murmur of speculation immediately spread across the training ground.

"It has to be Cao Xuan! His punch this time reached four hundred and twenty pounds, fifty pounds higher than last time!"

"I think so too. His inborn brute strength is ridiculously exaggerated. Other than Zhao Jing and Su Yuhuan, who could possibly suppress him?"

"Sun Ping only reached two hundred and ninety pounds this time. He's more than a hundred pounds behind Cao Xuan. There's no comparison."

"Then it must be Cao Xuan. Third place can only be his this time."

Cao Xuan stood amid the crowd. Hearing the discussions around him, he could not help straightening his back.

A hint of satisfaction appeared on his face. His eyes beneath his thick brows narrowed slightly, and his lips pressed together as he tried to look indifferent. Yet the faint upward curve of his mouth betrayed the anticipation in his heart.

"Third place, Cao Xuan," Huo Zheng announced. "Reward: three portions of Blood-Qi Soup."

Cao Xuan forcibly suppressed the excitement in his heart, his fists tightening slightly at his sides.

He took a deep breath and tried to appear calmer, but he could not suppress the smile on his face no matter what.

"Senior Brother Cao, congratulations!"

"Senior Brother Cao's improvement this time is incredible! Four hundred and twenty pounds of punching force—we can only look up to you!"

"Senior Brother Cao, please give this little brother more guidance in the future..."

For a time, the surrounding apprentices all crowded over. Congratulatory voices rang out without end.

Some had already begun calculating how to curry favor with him—which gifts might catch Cao Xuan's eye, and what words might bring them closer.

After all, in the martial arts hall, strength was the greatest support.

Cao Xuan was now ranked third. His future entry into the Inner Court as a Direct Disciple was practically set in stone. There was no harm in befriending him early.

Zhao Jing's gaze crossed the crowd and settled on Cao Xuan, who was surrounded by everyone.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he spoke to the people beside him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Cao Xuan has some ability. If he can hold onto third place in the next assessment, we can consider bringing him into our circle."

The people beside him nodded repeatedly in agreement, while Wei Zixiong wore a broad smile.

"Brother Zhao is right. Cao Xuan's brute strength is indeed remarkable. If he joins us, it'll only make us stronger."

Zhao Jing nodded in satisfaction, as though his words were an enormous favor to Cao Xuan.

"Fourth place."

Huo Zheng's voice rang out again.

This time, everyone pricked up their ears.

With the top three settled, fourth place became the greatest suspense.

Would it be Sun Ping?

Or Zhao Hu?

Or perhaps some other dark horse?

"Fang Han."

In an instant, the entire training ground fell deathly silent.

Everyone was stunned.

Fang Han?

That newcomer who had only joined the martial arts hall a few days ago?

"What? Fourth place? Did I hear that right?"

"How is that possible? He's only been here for a few days!"

"Could there be some shady dealing behind this?"

"Could Fang Han be Senior Brother Huo's..."

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you have a death wish?"

"I just think it's strange. How could two hundred and ten pounds of punching force earn fourth place? How were these rankings calculated?"

Huo Zheng had reached Minor Manifest Force. His hearing and sight were far keener than those of ordinary people, and every whispered word entered his ears without exception.

His expression immediately darkened as an invisible pressure spread from his body.

Lin Rou stood nearby, desperately holding back her laughter as her shoulders trembled lightly.

The three Inner-Court Direct Disciples exchanged glances, all with faint smiles tugging at their lips.

Huo Zheng's face was as dark as water. His blade-like gaze swept over the entire field as he barked, "Silence!"

Though he did not raise his voice, the shout carried the distinctive bearing of a Manifest-Force Martial Artist.

It was like a basin of cold water poured over everyone's heads. All discussion came to an abrupt halt.

"There is naturally a reason behind how the assessment rankings are decided."

Huo Zheng's tone was cold and stern. Wherever his gaze fell, the apprentices lowered their heads, not daring to meet his eyes.

"If anyone is dissatisfied, then seize the ranking with your own strength in the next Minor Exam, rather than wagging your tongues here."

No one on the training ground dared make another sound.

Fang Han stood where he was, his brows slightly furrowed.

This fourth-place ranking truly exceeded his expectations.

At first, he had indeed wanted to rank high and earn a portion of the Blood-Qi Soup reward.

But he had ultimately chosen to keep a lower profile, suppressing his strength during the punching test and using only thirty percent of his power to strike with two hundred and ten pounds of force.

By his calculations, this result would have been decent if it placed him within the top fifteen.

Yet Huo Zheng had directly given him fourth place.

The question was, why had he done that?

Fang Han could not figure it out, nor could he be bothered to keep thinking about it.

Since he could get Blood-Qi Soup for free, fourth place was fine.

A trace of perfectly timed shock and confusion appeared on his face.

His mouth hung slightly open, and his eyes carried a hint of bewilderment, as though even he could not believe the result.

To others, he looked exactly like an ignorant newcomer who had stumbled into extraordinary luck.

Li Daniu stood beside Fang Han, the delight on his face nearly overflowing.

He slapped Fang Han hard on the shoulder. "Fourth place! You've only been here a few days, and you already got fourth! That's incredible!"

Fang Han turned to thank Li Daniu, still maintaining that incredulous expression.

At this moment, no one in the entire Outer Court was unfamiliar with Fang Han's name.

Zhao Jing watched the scene from afar. The smile on his lips had long vanished, replaced by a barely noticeable gloom.

He snorted coldly, turned away, and did not look again.

He's just some country bumpkin. He only got lucky.

That was what he told himself.