Chapter 47: Yang Xingyong

Between martial artists, close-quarters combat is undoubtedly the ultimate test of basic reflexes and the truest validation of combat proficiency.

The cultivators of Three Mountains City had been leaping across mountain ranges as if they were flat ground since childhood; fighting lions and slaying tigers came naturally to them, and they were certainly formidable. Although close-quarters combat was a risky gamble for him, he still held a degree of confidence.

However, the Four Spirits Body Refining Art practiced by Jiang Wang was a unique technique of the military school, perfected through the Dao Platform of the Illusory Void. At its current stage, it was a top-tier body refining method.

Though one could not say Jiang Wang's muscles were harder than steel, they were not far from it. Vast amounts of vital blood lay dormant within every muscle; while they appeared unremarkable on ordinary days, in a setting like today, they erupted with an unprecedented, ferocious strength!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Fists flew and feet kicked; knees struck and elbows collided.

The two men's fists met fist-to-fist, producing sounds like the beating of war drums.

This level of pure, intense physical combat was something Jiang Wang had never experienced before. In the midst of such a battle, he felt the Four Spirits Body Refining Art gradually integrating into his body. Although he had practiced bitterly without pause, he had ultimately come from a Dao Academy and did not truly understand the essence of body refining.

Through these direct collisions, he felt his vital blood becoming more abundant, his physical body more robust, his Dao Yuan more vibrant, and he felt... his opponent's strength gradually waning.

Boom!

In the final headbutt, the cultivator from Three Mountains City recoiled, stumbling backward.

It wasn't that he didn't want to continue, but rather that he truly could not squeeze out even a single shred of strength.

Just how hard he had fought, just how desperately he had struggled—perhaps only Jiang Wang, his opponent, could truly know.

Several times, Jiang Wang thought the battle was decided, only to be met immediately by another punch from his opponent.

He could clearly feel the steel-like willpower of this Three Mountains City cultivator.

He had exhausted every ounce of his strength to win.

They did not want to be called barbarians!

Yet, tragically, the more desperately they fought, the more people would say, "Look, that's just how barbarians are—they don't value their own lives."

...

The referee raised the flag; the winner had been decided.

The watching crowd fell silent for a moment before a sudden burst of cheering erupted.

This was, after all, Maple Forest City—Jiang Wang's home turf. Not to mention the several large men hired by Zhao Rucheng, who were shouting themselves hoarse; for the sake of their generous rewards, they were certainly giving it their all. It almost seemed as though their passion was deeper than Jiang An'an's affection for her brother.

Amidst the boiling cheers, Jiang Wang reached out to catch his opponent, preventing him from collapsing to the ground.

"May I ask your honorable name?" Jiang Wang looked at this respectable opponent, offering his own respect.

In truth, before the match began, the referee had announced both names, but Jiang Wang had simply not bothered to memorize them.

Like many vulgar people, though he did not show it, he had been influenced by such attitudes since childhood and indeed held a certain contempt in his heart for these so-called "Mountain Barbarians."

The Three Mountains City cultivator stood there swaying, leaning almost his entire weight on Jiang Wang's hand. His eyes were heavily swollen, narrowed to mere slits.

"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 a friend's voice: "An'an!"

The little girl, Qing Zhi, jumped up in the distance within the crowd, squeezing her way toward Jiang An'an in high spirits.

An old man followed beside her; he was thin and gaunt, with a severe hunchback. Yet, in such a crowded throng, they moved through the crowd without a single hitch, seemingly causing no obstruction to others.

Everyone was curious about Jiang An'an's friends, especially the little girl who wanted to punch Jiang Wang.

Huang Azhan's perspective was always unique; his first glance went straight to the hunchbacked old man.

The old man's facial features... were quite awkward. Although his expression was serious, he naturally gave off a somewhat lecherous impression.

Huang Azhan nudged 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... very much like... very much like..."

"Like what?"

Huang Azhan didn't speak, merely glancing down at the man's crotch.

Zhao Rucheng was initially wary. "What are you looking at!"

Then, realizing what he meant, he also glanced over and rubbed his chin. "Eh! It does look a bit like..."

As they chatted quietly, the hunchbacked old man suddenly looked up and glared at them with fury. He had clearly heard their conversation perfectly.

"Stop talking, stop talking. Watch the match," Huang Azhan said guiltily, turning his head away and trying to look at the arena as if nothing had happened.

"Ahem." Zhao Rucheng coughed twice, reached out to take Jiang An'an from Ling He's shoulders, and placed her on his own. "An'an, your brother Ling He is tired. Sit on my shoulders for a bit."

He thought to himself: *This old man is so old, surely he won't attack me while I'm holding a child?*

Jiang An'an was already quite familiar with Zhao Rucheng, so she didn't mind whose shoulders she sat on and began chatting happily with Qing Zhi.

"My brother just won! He's so amazing!"

...

Yang Xingyong was eventually carried off.

The other two battles had ended much earlier. Another cultivator from Three Mountains City had defeated his opponent from Wangjiang City with overwhelming dominance, while Lin Zhengli from Wangjiang City had easily defeated another first-year from Maple Forest City.

However, the audience's attention was clearly drawn to the battle between Jiang Wang and Yang Xingyong; after all, that had been a fierce, bone-crunching struggle.

"Just two weaklings pecking at each other. Maple Forest City really has no taste, even among its commoners," Lin Zhengli sneered to the other victor, likely seeking validation.

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

He said coldly, "Please respect your opponent."

In his view, Lin Zhengli was not only disrespecting Jiang Wang, but also disrespecting his fellow Three Mountains City cultivator, Yang Xingyong.

Lin Zhengli felt like he had offered warmth only to be met with coldness, making him even more displeased. "Heh, barbarians."

The Three Mountains City cultivator's eyes nearly spat fire, but he said no more.

The first round was over, leaving one winner from each of the three cities, resulting in a three-way tie. Next would be the round-robin stage, where the order would be decided by drawing lots; luck would be crucial in this round.

The referee from the County Academy was responsible for the draw, ensuring maximum fairness.

He pulled a slip from the cylinder, read it, and announced: "Jiang Wang!"

Below the arena, both Ling He and Zhao Rucheng breathed a sigh of relief. This meant the first match would be between Lin Zhengli and the Three Mountains City cultivator, after which Jiang Wang would face each of them in turn. This was undoubtedly the best possible draw.

Jiang Wang retreated to the side of the arena, yielding the center to the two combatants about to fight.

As they passed each other, Lin Zhengli gave a light laugh. "You're very lucky. You get to stay for an extra match."

Jiang Wang smiled. "I hope your luck is a bit better, so you can encounter me later."

When it came to verbal sparring, he had been thoroughly influenced by Zhao Rucheng and was not entirely without the ability to strike back.

However, he couldn't quite understand where Lin Zhengli's hostility toward him came from. Was it merely because of the high-profile slogans Zhao Rucheng had commissioned?

This man didn't seem like the type to be blunt and outspoken. As a cultivator receiving orthodox Dao Academy education, and an elite disciple sent to represent the Wangjiang City Academy, would he really be this impatient?

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

As for the battle itself, he felt nothing but anticipation.

In contrast to the flippant irritation displayed by Lin Zhengli, the cultivator from Three Mountains City remained silent, merely staring at his opponent.

In this battle, the attitude he displayed was undoubtedly much more solemn.

It also indicated that he had a much stronger desire for the outcome of the fight.