The Final Trial

When the eleven of them returned to the training ground, night had already fallen completely.

The second round of the mountain forest sprint had drained more than half their strength.

Some had clothes caked with mud, while others had arms covered in scratches from thorns.

Zhou Ye sat on the ground to catch his breath for a long while, yet his legs still trembled without stop.

Even Wang Lie, unusually, did not immediately get up to practice his punches. He merely stood to one side, slowly steadying his breathing.

Chen Mo was exhausted as well.

The old injury on his shoulder throbbed faintly, and a branch had cut a gash across his palm.

But compared with Zhou Ye and the others, his breathing had gradually steadied.

"Can you still stand?"

Zhao Chuan asked from beside him.

"Bullshit."

Chen Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"I never said I was about to collapse."

Zhao Chuan laughed.

"As long as you can keep talking tough, you're fine."

After the two exchanged a few words, Instructor Li entered the training ground.

"Third round: field combat techniques."

The instant his words fell, the previously noisy training ground immediately went silent.

Instructor Li looked at the remaining eleven.

"No one will be eliminated this round. Only scores will be recorded."

Hearing that, quite a few people visibly relaxed.

After two consecutive rounds, some had already been eliminated outright.

Those still standing here at least still had a chance.

Instructor Li did not give them much time to rest. He walked straight to the center of the training ground.

"Watch carefully."

His feet spread slightly apart, his waist and back naturally straight, his hands hanging at his sides.

The next moment, he threw a punch.

His left foot stepped forward half a pace, his body sank slightly, and his right fist pushed out from his waist.

There was nothing exaggerated about this punch.

Yet the instant the fist landed, Chen Mo's gaze turned serious.

Instructor Li continued demonstrating.

Punch, palm strike, sink the shoulder, turn.

The movements were not fast, yet each linked seamlessly into the next.

There were no unnecessary movements.

Every time he changed steps, his footing was astonishingly steady.

After watching for a while, Chen Mo could not help muttering inwardly.

So this is the field combat technique he mentioned earlier?

It did not look flashy.

But it was highly practical.

It resembled the basic boxing taught at the martial arts hall, yet was clearly far more complete.

The first demonstration ended.

Instructor Li stopped.

"One more time."

The second time, he was noticeably faster.

This time, everyone's expressions became serious.

Some stared fixedly at his fists.

Others watched his footwork.

But Chen Mo kept his eyes on his shoulders, waist, and legs.

How his body moved when he punched.

When he changed steps.

When his center of gravity dropped.

He did not deliberately memorize what the movements looked like. Instead, he tried to remember how they connected.

The second demonstration ended.

Instructor Li drew in his stance.

"Begin."

The candidates stepped forward one after another.

The first youth managed to keep up at first, but when it came time to turn, his feet became tangled, and he completely forgot the following moves.

He stood there blankly for a moment.

Instructor Li did not remind him.

The clerk beside him lowered his head and made a note.

The second candidate did slightly better, but he also ran into trouble during the turn.

The fatigue left behind by two consecutive rounds of testing finally began to affect them at this moment.

Soon, it was Zhou Ye's turn.

Zhou Ye took a deep breath and walked into the center.

His legs still felt heavy.

But he clearly did not want anyone to see it.

"Come on."

He muttered softly.

He raised his fist.

Changed steps.

The first few moves went fairly smoothly.

But when it came to the consecutive turns, he was clearly a beat too slow.

He failed to connect the next move in time.

Zhou Ye panicked and tried to force his way back into the sequence.

The more anxious he became, the more tangled his movements grew.

His legs went weak, and he nearly fell flat on the ground.

By the time he barely managed to finish the whole routine, sweat was beading across his forehead from exhaustion.

As he walked off the field, his expression looked rather grim.

Zhao Chuan whispered from the side,

"You're in for it this time."

Zhou Ye glared at him.

"Say less."

It was Wang Lie's turn.

The moment he entered the field, his entire state visibly changed.

Even after running through mountain paths, his movements still carried a heavy, grounded strength.

He raised his fist.

Sank his waist.

Stepped forward.

Every move was powerful.

A few more cheers rose from beyond the wall.

"Wang Lie!"

"That was beautiful!"

Chen Mo watched intently as well.

But after watching for a while, he noticed that although Wang Lie was exceptionally strong, not everything he did was perfect.

During several turns, Wang Lie's movements were clearly broader than Instructor Li's.

When drawing in his stance, he also habitually swung his fists wider.

It looked imposing.

But in the finer details, he fell short.

Chen Mo could not help saying softly,

"His fists really are heavy."

Zhao Chuan nodded.

"You jealous?"

"Of course I'm jealous."

Chen Mo answered without hesitation.

"Who wouldn't want that kind of strength?"

After saying that, he added,

"Too bad being jealous is useless."

After Wang Lie finished, he seemingly did not notice those details himself. He turned and walked back into the crowd.

Right after that, Zhao Chuan stepped up.

His movements were not as fierce as Wang Lie's, but they were unexpectedly steady.

After taking his opening stance, he did not rush to seize speed.

He continued one step at a time.

He punched when he was supposed to punch.

He turned when he was supposed to turn.

Even though his strength had already waned compared to the beginning, he still did not fall into disorder.

After finishing the final form, Zhao Chuan stood there and panted a few times, a faint smile appearing on his face.

"Thank goodness I didn't smash my own signboard."

Chen Mo gave him a thumbs-up from the edge of the field.

"This time, you almost looked human."

Zhao Chuan came back and kicked him.

"Shut up."

It was Chen Mo's turn.

The sounds around the training ground noticeably grew louder.

"That's him."

"He barely placed in the middle in both earlier rounds."

"He nearly fell off in the first round."

"He's injured again in the third round."

"He probably has no chance this time."

Chen Mo heard them.

He immediately felt uncomfortable.

But he had no time to argue with them.

He walked to the center of the field.

First, he steadied himself.

Then he took a deep breath.

His shoulder injury still hurt.

But it was no longer as noticeable as before.

"Begin."

Instructor Li spoke.

Chen Mo raised his hand.

He took his stance.

His right fist shot out.

The pull on his shoulder hurt somewhat.

His brow creased slightly, but he did not stop.

Fist.

Palm.

Elbow.

Step.

One move followed another.

Unlike the others, what he remembered was the rhythm of Instructor Li's punches.

When to move.

When to stop.

When to shift his center of gravity forward.

When to pull it back.

At first, he was still a little awkward.

But as he kept fighting, Chen Mo slowly found his rhythm instead.

When it came time to turn and change steps, he made a light adjustment beneath his feet.

The next move followed smoothly.

It was not fast.

Nor was it particularly pretty.

Yet there were no obvious mistakes.

The discussions around him gradually quieted.

Even Chen Mo himself was a little surprised.

What he had learned in the forest yesterday could actually be put to use here as well.

It was just...

The injury on his shoulder still made some movements feel unnatural.

Especially during the final few moves, when his arm began to ache.

Chen Mo gritted his teeth.

"Hold on a little longer."

The final form came down.

He withdrew his fist.

And stood still.

It was finally over.

Chen Mo let out a soft breath.

He had actually been quite nervous just now.

But seeing that he had completed the entire set, he could not help feeling a little proud.

At least he had not embarrassed himself.

Instructor Li glanced at him without commenting.

The clerk lowered his head and recorded the score.

Chen Mo stepped down from the field.

Zhao Chuan came over.

"How was it?"

"What do you mean, how was it?"

"Were you a little nervous just now?"

"No."

Zhao Chuan glanced at the sweat on his forehead.

"That sweat did not come from the heat, did it?"

Chen Mo glared at him.

"You sure talk a lot."

Zhao Chuan immediately laughed.

"Fine, you were not nervous."

The candidates behind him continued taking the field.

Those who remembered quickly moved more smoothly.

Those who were too tired were clearly struggling to keep up.

Some forced themselves through the entire set, but the details were a complete mess.

Only after the last candidate had finished did Instructor Li slowly speak:

"All three rounds of assessment are complete."

The eleven of them stood together once more.

At that moment, no one cheered.

Everyone secretly looked toward the clerk on the platform.

The scores from all three rounds had been recorded.

But no one knew where they truly ranked.

Standing among the crowd, Chen Mo was actually rather nervous.

He really wanted to get in.

Even more than he had imagined.

But whether he could get in or not, he had no confidence at all.

Outside the walls, the townspeople had already begun discussing it.

"Wang Lie is definitely secure."

"That kid is strong, and he did well in all three rounds."

"I think Zhao Chuan is pretty good too."

"And Zhou Ye—he was the first one back in the second round."

When it came to Chen Mo, the voices noticeably dwindled.

"It is already pretty good that he held on until the end."

"He was average in the first two rounds, and he was injured in the last one."

"His chances are probably slim."

Those scattered comments drifted into Chen Mo's ears.

He could not help curling his lip.

"They talk as if they have already seen the scores."

Zhao Chuan heard him beside him and nearly laughed.

"You do not accept that?"

"Of course I do not."

Chen Mo lowered his voice.

"But what can I do even if I do not?"

His words were tough, but deep down, he was still uncertain.

After three rounds, he had already given it everything he had.

If he still could not get in...

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at his arm.

Then he could only go home.

Keep weaving baskets.

Keep following his father into the mountains.

Life would go on as usual.

Thinking of that, he felt a little steadier.

But beneath that steadiness lay an indescribable sense of loss.

He truly wanted to stay.

Zhao Chuan noticed his mood and moved a little closer.

"Do not think too much."

"The two of us made it to the end. We should have some chance, no matter what."

Chen Mo glanced at him.

"How many do you think will get in?"

"I do not know."

Zhao Chuan grinned.

"But I think you have a shot."

"Why?"

"That set of punches you did just now looked pretty smooth to me."

The corners of Chen Mo's mouth had just begun to rise when he hurriedly pressed them back down.

"It was nothing special."

"What are you smiling at?"

"Who is smiling?"

Zhao Chuan rolled his eyes at him.

At the same time.

The door to the martial hall's inner chamber slowly closed.

Instructor Li, the prefectural supervisor, and the clerk all went inside.

The records from the three rounds were laid out on the table in order.

Each name was checked again.

The scores were totaled again.

Outside the training ground, the eleven youths could only stand and wait.

No one knew the result.

Chen Mo did not know either.

He only knew that this time, he truly wanted to get in.

The night wind blew in over the courtyard wall.

Chen Mo raised his head and looked at the tightly shut door to the inner chamber.

Please do not let me fall short by just one point.

He did not say those words aloud.

He merely stood there, waiting for the door to open again.