Xie Tan's expression darkened completely.
He was used to throwing his weight around the inner courtyard. Apart from Wang Shi, Zhang Qi, and a handful of others, who didn't politely address him as "Senior Brother Xie" when they saw him?
Yet today, first Fatty Xu had dared to talk back to him, and now a piece of trash with low-grade aptitude had dared to meddle in his business.
If he swallowed this insult, how was he, Xie Tan, supposed to hold his head up in the inner courtyard from now on?
"Brat." Xie Tan flexed his wrist, his joints giving a series of crisp cracks. "How many days have you been in the inner courtyard? You haven't even learned the rules, and you already dare to stand up for someone?"
He strode toward Jiang Fa, his boot soles splashing through the melted snow.
The watching crowd parted of its own accord, clearing a path for him.
Jiang Fa stood where he was.
He watched Xie Tan approach step by step, his expression calm, showing neither panic nor anger. He merely positioned himself slightly in front of Ma Ping and Xu Feng.
"Jiang Fa, hurry and leave!"
Xu Feng tugged at his sleeve, his face pale, and urged, "He's an An Jin martial artist! You're no match for him!"
Ma Ping struggled to get in front of him, but Jiang Fa held him firmly in place with one hand.
"It's fine." That was all Jiang Fa said.
Xie Tan narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold sneer hanging at the corner of his mouth.
He tilted his head at Jiang Fa, his voice icy. "I'm talking to you. Are you deaf?"
Before his words had faded, the five fingers of his right hand curled into a claw and shot straight for Jiang Fa's shoulder.
His fingertips tore through the air with a shrill whistle.
Facing this vicious strike,
Jiang Fa didn't move.
Everyone thought Xie Tan's attack had frightened him witless,
while Xie Tan snorted inwardly.
Don't you like standing up for others?
Then I'll take off one of your arms first and let everyone here see what happens to anyone who opposes me in the inner courtyard.
The watching disciples all widened their eyes.
A few of the more timid ones had already turned their heads away, unable to bear watching what came next.
Yet in the next instant, everyone froze.
Jiang Fa didn't dodge.
He simply extended one hand, spread his fingers, and clamped firmly around Xie Tan's wrist.
Their hands collided in midair with a dull crack, like two blocks of bogwood striking each other.
The sneer froze on Xie Tan's face.
He felt as though his hand had been caught in an iron vise, the pressure making even his bones ache.
What horrified him even more was that when he sent his early An Jin force through his fingertips, it vanished like a clay ox entering the sea, eliciting no reaction whatsoever.
The other man's palm merely trembled slightly, dissipating that An Jin, enough to shatter a wooden post, into nothing.
This was absolutely not something a Ming Jin martial artist could do!
"You..." Xie Tan's pupils abruptly contracted. "An Jin?!"
An uproar swept through the crowd at those words.
The watching disciples' faces took on a spectacular array of expressions in an instant.
Li Tiezhu, who had been watching the commotion from the sidelines all along, opened his mouth wide enough to fit an egg. His bell-sized eyes went perfectly round, and only after a long moment did he manage to blurt out, "Good grief, that blockhead actually managed to cultivate it?"
Another man's reaction was even more exaggerated. The folding fan in his hand clattered to the ground as he muttered, "An Jin? Doesn't he have low-grade aptitude? Someone with low-grade aptitude can break through to An Jin too? That doesn't make sense... Even I, Zhao Ming, haven't broken through yet, and I have middle-grade aptitude..."
Xie Tan's face had already turned the color of pig liver.
In front of so many people, he, a veteran inner courtyard disciple at An Jin, had his attack suppressed with one hand by a newcomer who had only joined the martial hall a few months ago. He had lost so much face it had reached his grandmother's house.
With a sudden burst of strength, he broke free of Jiang Fa's grip. His right fist immediately smashed forward, cutting through the air with a fierce gust as it drove straight toward Jiang Fa's face.
Fueled by fury, this punch far surpassed the earlier claw strike in both speed and force.
Xie Tan had spent four or five years immersed in the Mountain-Breaking Fist and had long since surpassed minor achievement.
His fist struck like a hammer, heavy and powerful. Even an opponent who was also at early An Jin wouldn't dare take it head-on.
Jiang Fa still didn't dodge.
He slid his right foot half a step back, bent his knees slightly, and lowered his center of gravity, planting both feet in the ground as though they had taken root.
Then he, too, threw a punch.
It was the same Mountain-Breaking Fist, the same eighth form, Mountain-Opening Hammer.
The two fists slammed together in midair.
Boom!
A dull sonic blast erupted across the training grounds, setting the surrounding disciples' eardrums ringing.
Immediately afterward, a figure staggered back four or five steps.
It was Xie Tan.
His right hand, which had met Jiang Fa's fist, hung at his side. The skin over his knuckles had split open, and blood dripped between his fingers.
Jiang Fa, by contrast, had merely swayed slightly at the waist. His feet hadn't budged, and the skin on his hand hadn't even been scraped.
Dead silence filled the grounds.
If anyone had thought Jiang Fa catching Xie Tan's claw strike was a fluke, this exchange of punches had been a genuine head-on collision, with no room for any pretense.
Xie Tan looked down at his blood-drenched right hand,
his expression shifting from anger to disbelief, then from disbelief to horror.
At the instant their fists collided, he had distinctly felt a terrifying force coming from the other man's fist-a strength far beyond his own!
Jiang Fa's punch had made him feel as though he had struck a wall of copper and iron. The other man's fist hadn't budged.
He abruptly raised his head and stared fixedly at Jiang Fa. "How is that possible? How can you be so strong..."
Jiang Fa didn't answer his question and merely withdrew his fist,
saying evenly, "Senior Brother Xie, can we leave now?"
Xie Tan's face alternated between ashen and pale, his chest heaving violently.
He gritted his teeth and was just about to attack again,
but abruptly met Jiang Fa's gaze, as still as an ancient well. A chill ran through his heart, and his eyes instantly cleared.
He might have been arrogant, but he wasn't stupid.
They had clashed head-on twice. The other man wasn't even breathing hard, while his own hand was already torn open.
This strength was absolutely beyond his ability to contend with.
"Fine. Very good." He forced the words out through gritted teeth. "Just you wait!"
Then he shot Jiang Fa a venomous look, turned, and strode away.
The watching disciples automatically cleared a path for him, all lowering their heads, not daring to meet his eyes.
Only after Xie Tan had gone far away did a wave of irrepressible discussion erupt across the training grounds.
"Heavens, Jiang Fa actually broke through to An Jin!"
"Doesn't he have low-grade aptitude? Someone with low-grade aptitude can break through to An Jin too?"
"What do you know? Aptitude only determines your starting point, not your finishing point. That's what Master said back then."
"That may be true, but he hasn't even been at the martial hall for a year... How long did Qin Xuan take? About the same, wasn't it?"
"Qin Xuan has supreme-grade aptitude, while Jiang Fa has low-grade aptitude. How on earth did he do it?"
Xu Feng rubbed the backs of his knees, which still ached a little, and stared at Jiang Fa's back. His lips trembled for a long while before he finally managed to say, "Jiang Fa, you... when did you break through?"
"Just last night." Jiang Fa turned around. The coldness had faded from his face, leaving him as unruffled as usual.
Ma Ping held his chest and coughed twice. He didn't ask anything, merely forcing a smile onto his pale face. "Congratulations."
Jiang Fa took a small porcelain bottle from inside his robe and handed it over. "Wound medicine. You can take it orally or apply it externally."
Ma Ping didn't stand on ceremony. He accepted the porcelain bottle and thanked him.
The discussion around them continued, growing louder and more jumbled.