You Throw Hidden Weapons, Tang San, and I Throw Bombs-Won't That Blow You Up?

Tang San's vegetables were finally ready to harvest. The radishes were big and white, the cabbages green and tender, and the chives grew like a little forest. Tang San crouched beside the vegetable patch, looking at the vegetables he had worked so hard to grow, his heart brimming with satisfaction. He had raised them with daily watering, weeding, and fertilizing. Every plant was like his child.

Yi Yun stood behind him, looked over the vegetables covering the ground, and nodded. "Not bad. You can harvest them."

"What for?"

"To cook, of course. A Harvest Feast."

The corners of Tang San's mouth lifted slightly. Harvest Feast-the name alone sounded festive.

What he didn't know, however, was that the Harvest Feast was only a sideshow. The main event was still to come.

Nuoding Academy was holding a Hidden Weapon Tournament.

The dean announced the news himself.

"To enrich our students' extracurricular lives and improve everyone's practical combat skills, the academy has decided to hold its first Hidden Weapon Tournament!" Standing on the dais, the dean spoke in a ringing voice. "The champion will receive the title of 'King of Hidden Weapons' from the academy, along with a reward of one hundred Gold Soul Coins!"

The crowd erupted. To Nuoding Academy's students, one hundred Gold Soul Coins was a fortune.

Tang San was excited too. Not because of the hundred Gold Soul Coins, but because of the title "King of Hidden Weapons." He was an heir to the Tang Sect, and hidden weapons were his old trade. In his previous life in the Tang Sect, no one could match his talent for hidden weapons. After crossing over to the Douluo Continent, although Yi Yun's Gatling Gun had dealt him a heavy blow, a stubborn determination had remained bottled up inside him-he wanted to prove that traditional hidden weapons were no worse than firearms. The Hidden Weapon Tournament was the perfect opportunity.

Tang San clenched his fists, fighting spirit blazing in his eyes. "This time, I'm going to win."

Training ground · Tang San

From the day he signed up, Tang San entered tournament preparation mode.

Every morning, he got up before dawn to practice with hidden weapons. Throwing needles, darts, throwing knives, Sleeve Arrows, meteor hammers... He selected twenty of the Tang Sect Hidden Weapons Seventy-Two Supreme Skills to practice. Five hundred repetitions of each every day, not one fewer.

After practicing with hidden weapons, he still had to practice Pole Vault and Radio Calisthenics. Yi Yun had said that physical fitness was the foundation of hidden weapons. Without a firm foundation, even the most powerful hidden weapons were useless.

After Pole Vault and Radio Calisthenics, he still had to water the vegetable patch. The vegetables had been harvested, but he couldn't leave the land fallow. He was preparing to plant a second crop.

"Tang San, aren't you tired, practicing so much every day?" Xiao Wu asked curiously.

"I am."

"Then why keep practicing?"

"Because I want to win."

Looking at Tang San's earnest expression, Xiao Wu suddenly felt somewhat moved. Yi Yun had duped him so many times, the whole school had mocked him for so long, and the person he liked had rejected him, yet he had never given up. He was growing stronger in his own way, even if that way looked ridiculous-Pole Vault, Radio Calisthenics, growing vegetables, hidden weapons. None of it quite suited his identity as a Soul Master. But he was working hard, and that was enough.

"Keep it up, Tang San," Xiao Wu said.

Tang San paused, then nodded. "Yeah."

Yi Yun's residence · Yi Yun

Yi Yun lay on the grass with a foxtail stem between his lips, watching Tang San practice with hidden weapons.

Tang San's technique really was good. His releases were fast, accurate, and angled cunningly. Every hidden weapon carried a different spin and curve, making them almost impossible to guard against.

"The kid really is talented," Yi Yun murmured.

"Can he win, then?" Xiao Wu asked.

"Win? Beating these Nuoding Academy students definitely won't be a problem."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Yi Yun laughed. "I'm not entering."

"Why aren't you entering?"

"If I entered, what chance would anyone else have?"

Xiao Wu thought it over and felt he had a point. With Yi Yun's strength, never mind a Hidden Weapon Tournament-even if he entered the continent-wide Soul Master Tournament, he would crush everyone.

"Brother Yun, you're not going to cause trouble, are you?" Xiao Wu asked warily.

"Am I that kind of person?"

"You are."

Yi Yun laughed. "Fine, I am. But I won't cause trouble this time. I'll just wait and enjoy the show."

Hidden Weapon Tournament · Tournament day

The Hidden Weapon Tournament was held on the training ground.

The training ground had been converted into a tournament venue-fifty targets stood on the east side, a row of dummies lined the west, and simple wooden stands had been built to the north.

The stands were packed with students, chattering away.

"Who do you think will win?"

"Tang San, obviously. His hidden weapons are the best."

"Not necessarily. There are upperclassmen too."

"Even the upperclassmen aren't as good as Tang San, right? Before Yi Yun crushed him with that Gatling Gun last time, his hidden weapons were the best in the school."

"The Gatling Gun... That was cheating."

"Right. A Gatling Gun isn't a hidden weapon."

As the students talked, their gazes turned toward Tang San in unison.

Tang San sat in the contestants' area, his face expressionless, but his hands were trembling slightly. Not from nerves, but excitement. After waiting so long, he finally had a chance to prove himself.

Yi Yun sat in the back row of the stands, with Xiao Wu to his left, Ning Rongrong to his right, and Zhu Zhuqing in front. The four of them were lined up like a panel of judges.

"Handsome Master, who do you think will win?" Ning Rongrong asked.

"Tang San."

"You're that sure?"

"When it comes to hidden weapons, none of these Nuoding Academy students is a match for Tang San."

Ning Rongrong nodded and looked at Tang San again. He was regulating his breathing with his eyes closed, his whole body like a sword about to leave its sheath.

The tournament began.

In the first elimination round, Tang San faced an upperclassman. The upperclassman used a crossbow, which packed considerable power but had mediocre accuracy. Tang San used throwing needles. He released three: two embedded themselves in the bull's-eye, and one flew past the upperclassman's ear. The upperclassman's legs went weak with fright, and he surrendered on the spot.

The second round, the third, the fourth... Tang San cut through every obstacle, winning each round in the shortest time and at the smallest cost.

Cheers rose from the stands, each wave louder than the last.

"Tang San! Tang San! Tang San!"

Tang San stood in the arena with a tide of cheers in his ears, yet his expression remained calm. These cheers weren't what he wanted. What he wanted was Yi Yun's acknowledgment.

He glanced at the back row of the stands. Yi Yun was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, watching him with a smile. It was impossible to tell whether it was appreciation or disdain.

Tang San withdrew his gaze and took a deep breath. It was the final. His opponent was the president of the academy's Hidden Weapon Club, an expert with darts. The president attacked first, releasing three darts, fast and accurate, straight at Tang San's face. Tang San turned sideways to dodge two and knocked down the third with a throwing needle. Then he counterattacked.

Seven throwing needles shot out at once, following seven different paths toward seven different landing points. The president dodged desperately, evading six. The seventh pinned his collar, just an inch from his neck.

"I surrender." The president's voice trembled. The entire crowd erupted.

Tang San had won, and overwhelmingly at that. He stood in the arena, raising both hands high as he accepted the crowd's cheers.

Then he saw Yi Yun stand up in the back row.

Yi Yun walked down from the stands, over to the edge of the training ground, and up beside the target range.

"What's Brother Yun doing?" Ning Rongrong asked.

"I don't know." Xiao Wu shook her head.

Watching Yi Yun, Tang San suddenly felt an ominous premonition well up inside him.

Yi Yun pulled something from inside his clothes. It wasn't large-about the size of a fist, black and round, like an iron ball. Tang San's eyelid twitched. "What's that?"

Yi Yun didn't answer. He simply hurled it hard. The black ball traced a parabola through the air and landed in the middle of the target range.

BOOOOM!!!

An enormous blast shook the earth. Flames soared skyward, and smoke and dust filled the air. A huge crater exploded open in the ground. All fifty targets were blasted away, their fragments flying into every corner of the training ground. The entire row of dummies was blown apart, pieces scattered everywhere. Even a section of the training ground's boundary wall collapsed in the blast.

When the smoke and dust cleared, the target range was gone. In its place was a crater twenty meters across and three meters deep. Wisps of smoke rose from it, and the soil around its rim had been burned black.

Deathly silence fell over the entire venue.

Everyone was petrified. The students in the stands gaped, eyes wide, their minds blank. The teachers forgot to maintain order, and the dean forgot to speak. Tang San stood in the arena, still holding his throwing needles, motionless as a statue. His head was buzzing.

He had spent a month preparing, fought from the elimination rounds to the final, and cut through every obstacle to finally take the championship. Then Yi Yun had casually tossed a ball and flattened the entire target range. One month against one ball. His hard work against a casual toss from Yi Yun.

Tang San's lips quivered. "I practiced for three years!!!" His voice rang across the entire training ground, filled with anger, hurt, unwillingness to accept it, and a helplessness that reached deep into his bones.

The venue remained deathly silent. No one dared speak. No one dared laugh.

Yi Yun dusted off his hands, walked back to the stands, and returned to his seat.

"Handsome Master, why did you blow up the target range?" Ning Rongrong asked quietly.

"Because Tang San won."

"You blew up the target range because he won?"

"Right. To liven things up for him."

Ning Rongrong was speechless. She realized that Yi Yun's understanding of "livening things up" was rather different from a normal person's.

Xiao Wu tugged Yi Yun's sleeve. "Brother Yun, Tang San looks like he's about to cry."

Yi Yun glanced at Tang San-he stood in the arena with reddened eyes and tightly pressed lips, as though desperately holding something back.

"He won't. That kid won't cry," Yi Yun said.

"How do you know?"

"Because he's my little brother."

Training ground · Tang San

Tang San stood rooted to the spot. He didn't know what to do. Keep accepting the cheers? The target range was gone. What was there to cheer about? Leave the arena? He didn't know whether his legs could still carry him.

He drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then he smiled. Not happily, but bitterly. He suddenly understood something-compared with Yi Yun, he would always be the loser. Not because he didn't work hard, but because Yi Yun wasn't even in the same dimension as him. He practiced hidden weapons; Yi Yun played with bombs. His hidden weapons needed millimeter precision; Yi Yun's bombs only needed to be thrown. His hidden weapons required ages of aiming; Yi Yun's bombs could blast an entire area with his eyes closed. This wasn't a matter of working hard or not. This was a higher dimension crushing a lower one.

Tang San put away his throwing needles, turned, and left the arena. As he passed Yi Yun, he paused.

"Brother Yun."

"Hmm?"

"Could you give me one of those balls?"

Yi Yun froze for a moment, then smiled, pulled one from inside his clothes, and handed it to Tang San.

Tang San took the black ball, looked it over, and tucked it inside his clothes.

"Thank you." Tang San left. His back was straight, straighter than ever.

In the stands, Xiao Wu watched Tang San's retreating figure, her eyes a little red.

"Brother Yun, aren't you being too harsh on Tang San?"

"Harsh?"

"He almost cried."

"He won't cry," Yi Yun said. "That kid is tougher than you think."

Nuoding Academy · Rear mountain · Evening

Tang San sat alone beside the training ground, holding the black ball Yi Yun had given him. It was heavy and cold, with fine, closely spaced grooves on its surface.

He looked at it for a long time, then tucked it inside his clothes, stood up, and picked up his pole. One vault, two, three. He vaulted higher, farther, and more steadily than usual.

Yi Yun was right. He was tougher than he himself imagined.

Late night · Tang San's Dormitory

Tang San lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had won the Hidden Weapon Tournament today, but he wasn't happy at all. He had discovered that the so-called "champion" was nothing before Yi Yun.

But he didn't sink into despair. He had worked it out-Yi Yun was Yi Yun, and he was himself. However strong Yi Yun was, he couldn't live his life for him or walk his own path for him. He needed to do only one thing-keep going. Whether Pole Vault, Radio Calisthenics, growing vegetables, or hidden weapons, they were all part of the path he walked. Even if that path was ridiculous, even if everyone laughed at him, he was walking it. That was enough.

Tang San rolled over and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he would keep growing vegetables. The day after, he would keep practicing hidden weapons. The day after that, he would keep practicing Pole Vault. Until he forged his own path, one different from Yi Yun's.

Outside the window, moonlight flowed like water. In the distance, he could faintly hear Yi Yun and Xiao Wu talking and laughing.

This time, Tang San felt no pang of sadness. He only smiled. That was his Brother Yun, Xiao Wu's Brother Yun, the Brother Yun everyone liked so much. If one person could make so many people like him, he truly must have something worth liking. Although Tang San was the one he had duped the worst, he didn't hate him. Hating someone was too exhausting. He only wanted to follow him, to see where he would go and how far he could reach.

Tang San closed his eyes. That night, he slept very well.