P.S.: Football has the World Cup; martial arts has the Martial Arts Tournament. Is that not delightful?
The ancients spoke well: some rejoiced while others grieved.
Though Zhang Xiaohua was not particularly delighted by the first day of the Martial Arts Tournament, at the very least, he was not troubled.
As for the two brothers in misery from the Lotus Escort Agency, that was another matter.
Shangguan Yun stood beneath one of the arenas, his expression incomparably ugly. As he watched the group of youths beside him—children, rather—who were a head shorter than him and chattering away about their experiences in the first day's matches, an extraordinarily bitter taste welled up in his heart. At last, he understood why no one from the Lotus Escort Agency had participated in this Martial Arts Tournament for decades. Yet the price he had paid to learn this simple reason was truly far too great. Fortunately, night had already fallen, and no one paid attention to this young man who had lost three matches in a row. Otherwise, Shangguan Yun would rather a crack opened in the ground so he could hide inside it.
Thinking about it, why had he listened to Yu Deyi's urging and waded into this muddy water? Was it his curiosity, or his yearning for the Misty Sect? The ancients spoke well: curiosity killed the cat. Countless examples from ancient times to the present showed that impulsiveness and curiosity both came at a grievous cost. His cat had not been killed, but his self-esteem had been utterly slaughtered.
Then he thought of the three matches he had just gone through. He had believed that he already had a foundation in martial arts, and after nearly a year of diligently cultivating the Internal Energy Cultivation Method at the Lotus Escort Agency's