Chapter 47: Yang Xingyong

Among martial artists, close-quarters combat was undoubtedly the greatest test of basic reactions and the truest proof of one’s combat foundation.

Three Mountain City cultivators had leaped across mountains as though walking on flat ground since childhood, wrestling lions and killing tigers. Naturally, they were not ordinary. Close-quarters combat had been a risky move on his part, but he did have some confidence in it.

However, the Four Spirit Body Tempering Art Jiang Wang cultivated was a unique military-school technique, completed and perfected through the Dao Evolution Platform of the Grand Illusory Realm.

At the current stage, it was a top-tier body-tempering method.

Jiang Wang’s muscles and flesh could not quite be said to surpass steel, but they were not far off. Vast blood and qi lay dormant within every muscle. Usually, its scale was not too obvious, but in a situation like today’s, it erupted with unprecedented ferocity.

Bang bang bang bang bang!

Fists met kicks, knees struck elbows.

Their fists collided against each other, producing drum-like sounds.

This kind of pure, intense exchange of fists and feet was something Jiang Wang had never experienced before.

In this battle, he felt the Four Spirit Body Tempering Art gradually merge into his body. Although he had practiced diligently before, he had still come from a dao academy background and had not truly understood what body tempering was.

Within these direct collisions, he felt his blood and qi become fuller, his physical body become stronger, his dao essence become more lively, and he also felt…

His opponent’s strength gradually weaken.

Boom!

In the final clash of foreheads, the cultivator from Three Mountain City slumped backward.

It was not that he did not want to continue.

It was that he truly could no longer squeeze out even the slightest bit of strength.

How hard he had worked, how desperately he had fought—perhaps only Jiang Wang, who fought him, truly understood.

Several times, Jiang Wang thought the battle had already been decided, only for the opponent’s fist to come again.

He clearly felt this Three Mountain City cultivator’s steel-like will.

He had exhausted everything to win.

They did not want to be called barbarians!

Yet the sorrowful thing was that the more desperately they fought, the more some people would say, Look, barbarians are just like that. They don’t treat their lives as lives.

…

The judge raised the flag.

Victory and defeat were decided.

The surrounding crowd fell silent for a moment, then cheers erupted.

This was Maple Forest City, Jiang Wang’s home ground, after all.

Not to mention the burly men Zhao Rucheng had hired, who were roaring with all their might. For the generous payment, they could be said to be shouting themselves hoarse. They looked as if their feelings for Jiang An’an’s brother were even deeper than hers.

Amid the boiling cheers, Jiang Wang reached out and grabbed his opponent, preventing him from falling.

“May I ask your honored name?”

Jiang Wang looked at this respectable opponent and expressed his respect.

In truth, before the match began, the judge had read out both participants’ names. But Jiang Wang had not remembered.

Like many ordinary people, although he had not shown it outwardly, having heard such things since childhood, deep down he had indeed looked down on these so-called “mountain barbarians.”

This cultivator from Three Mountain City swayed unsteadily, almost his entire weight supported by Jiang Wang’s hand.

His eyes were swollen high, narrowed to only a slit.

“Yang Xingyong!”

He said happily, “My name is Yang Xingyong!”

…

Outside the arena, Jiang An’an was clapping for her brother when she suddenly heard her good friend’s voice.

“An’an!”

Little Qingzhi jumped up from within the distant crowd, happily squeezing toward Jiang An’an.

Beside her followed an old man. He was thin and hunched over severely. But among such a crowded mass of people, as the two made their way over, they did not seem obstructed at all, nor did they seem to affect anyone else.

Everyone was very curious about Jiang An’an’s friend, especially that little girl who had wanted to beat up Jiang Wang.

Huang Azhan’s perspective had always been different from others. His first glance fell upon that hunchbacked old man.

The old man’s face… was very awkward.

Although his expression was stern, he naturally gave people a… vulgar feeling.

Huang Azhan bumped Zhao Rucheng with his elbow.

“Hey, look at that old man.”

“What about him?” Zhao Rucheng asked.

Huang Azhan lowered his voice.

“Don’t you think his head… looks a lot like… a lot like…”

“Like what?”

Huang Azhan did not speak, only glanced toward Zhao Rucheng’s crotch.

Zhao Rucheng first became wary.

“What are you looking at?!”

Then he reacted, also sizing the old man up twice, stroking his chin as he said:

“Hey! It does kind of look like…”

They were speaking quietly, but unexpectedly, the hunchbacked old man suddenly raised his head and glared at them angrily. Clearly, he had heard their conversation word for word.

“Stop talking, stop talking. Watch the match.”

Huang Azhan guiltily turned his head away, trying to act as though nothing had happened.

“Ahem.”

Zhao Rucheng coughed twice and reached out to take Jiang An’an from Ling He’s shoulders, placing her on his own.

“An’an, your Brother Ling He is tired. Sit on my shoulders for a while.”

He thought to himself that this old man was already so old. Surely he wouldn’t beat someone who was holding a child, right?

Jiang An’an was already quite familiar with Zhao Rucheng now, so she did not care much whose shoulders she sat on. She happily began chatting with Qingzhi.

“My brother won just now. He’s really amazing!”

…

Yang Xingyong was ultimately carried off.

The other two battles had ended long ago.

Another cultivator from Three Mountain City had defeated his River-Gazing City opponent with overwhelming advantage, while River-Gazing City’s Lin Zhengli had easily beaten Maple Forest City’s other one-year student.

But the audience’s attention had clearly been drawn to the battle between Jiang Wang and Yang Xingyong. After all, that had been a fierce fight of flesh striking flesh.

“It was nothing but weaklings pecking at each other. Maple Forest City really is pathetic. Even the common people have such poor judgment.”

Lin Zhengli sneered at the other victor, perhaps seeking some agreement.

But the victor from Three Mountain City clearly did not buy it.

He said coldly, “Please respect your opponent.”

In his view, Lin Zhengli was not merely disrespecting Jiang Wang, but also disrespecting Yang Xingyong, the cultivator of Three Mountain City.

Lin Zhengli’s attempt at friendliness had hit a cold wall, making him even more displeased.

“Heh. Barbarian.”

The Three Mountain City cultivator’s eyes seemed ready to spit fire, but he said nothing more.

The first round ended. Each of the three cities had one victor remaining, making it an even split.

Next came the round-robin stage, with the order determined by drawing lots. Luck was very important in this round.

The judge from the commandery academy was responsible for drawing the lots, undoubtedly showing fairness to the greatest extent.

He took a slip from the lot cylinder, looked at it, and read:

“Jiang Wang!”

Off the field, Ling He and Zhao Rucheng both relaxed.

This meant the first match would be fought between Lin Zhengli and the Three Mountain City cultivator, after which Jiang Wang would face each of them in turn.

Without question, it was the best possible draw.

Jiang Wang retreated to the edge of the field, leaving the center to the two who were about to fight.

At the instant they passed each other, Lin Zhengli chuckled softly.

“You’re really lucky. You get to stay one more round.”

Jiang Wang smiled.

“I hope your luck is good too, so you can still meet me later.”

When it came to verbal sparring, having been influenced by Zhao Rucheng for so long, he was not completely powerless to strike back.

He simply did not quite understand where Lin Zhengli’s hostility toward him came from.

Was it just because the slogans Zhao Rucheng arranged were too high-profile?

This person did not seem like the straightforward type.

A cultivator who had received proper dao academy education, and an elite disciple sent to represent River-Gazing City Dao Academy in battle—would he really be this unable to restrain himself?

Jiang Wang was actually quite interested in the answer behind it.

As for the battle itself, all he held was anticipation.

Compared to Lin Zhengli’s frivolous impatience and irritation, the Three Mountain City cultivator remained silent from beginning to end, only watching his opponent.

In this battle, his attitude was undoubtedly far more proper.

It also showed that he had a much stronger desire for victory.

(End of Chapter)