Chaos begins when one joins a martial arts school

Chapter 72 Win!
"Zhou Zhiqiang wins in the eighth arena!"

When the Silver-Armored Captain announced the results, many people still kept their eyes on where Li Mengchao was.

He just severely injured Lin Yue, and the strength he displayed was astonishing.

Compared to Li Mengchao's strength, Zhou Zhiqiang's performance was also quite good, but it was clearly not as impactful as Li Mengchao's.

After the fourth match, there was a half-hour recovery period for the martial artists to heal their injuries and adjust their condition.

Meanwhile, the examiners began to compile the results and divided the participants into two groups according to their win-loss records.

The first group consists of the top four winners: Zhou Tong, Qin Yu, Li Mengchao, and Zhou Zhiqiang. They will continue to compete for higher rankings.

The second group consists of fifth to eighth place: Xu Guangwei, Yang Jing, Lin Yue, and He Han.

However, Lin Yue was already seriously injured and unconscious, and was taken away from the training ground.

According to the rules, those who are seriously injured and unable to continue the competition are automatically placed last, and Lin Yue thus became the eighth person.

The half-hour break passed in the blink of an eye, and the noise on the training ground gradually subsided.

The sun was nearing noon, making the bluestone ground scorching hot, and the air was filled with a faint smell of sweat and dust.

The silver-armored captain stepped onto the main arena once more, his armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight. He cleared his throat, his voice echoing across the training ground: "Second round of matches, prepare to begin!"

At this moment, only Xu Guangwei, Yang Jing, and He Han remained in the second group of martial artists.

After one person is missing, according to convention, one of the three must be given a bye, and the other two will compete first. The loser will be placed seventh, and the winner will compete with the person who received a bye for fifth and sixth place.

Generally speaking, those who receive a bye are the strongest among the candidates as judged by the examiners.

The silver-armored captain turned and walked towards the high platform on the east side, where the chief examiner and several examiners were sitting.

The group huddled together, talking in hushed tones, their fingers occasionally tapping on the roster, their eyes occasionally glancing at the three people below the stage.

Xu Guangwei stood still, arms crossed, his expression calm.

Although he lost to Zhou Tong, he still showed considerable strength. At this moment, his back was straight, and he exuded a sense of confidence.

He Han's gaze darted back and forth between Xu Guangwei and Yang Jing.

Yang Jing remained leaning against the railing, eyes closed, resting, his chest rising and falling slightly.

The discussion on the platform lasted for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn before the silver-armored captain finally turned around and walked down from the platform, returning steadily to the main arena.

He picked up the roster and announced loudly, "After deliberation by the chief examiner and examiners, the second group's vacancy is awarded to Xu Guangwei!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a low murmur arose in the training ground, mostly unsurprising agreement.

Upon hearing this, Xu Guangwei simply nodded slightly, without showing much pride on his face, clearly having anticipated this.

He Han visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Compared to Xu Guangwei, He Han felt that Yang Jing was an easier target.

If he defeats Yang Jing, his ranking can rise another place.

Yang Jing slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Xu Guangwei.

The examiners' decision to give him a bye clearly indicates that they acknowledge him as the strongest among the three.

The silver-armored captain glanced at He Han and Yang Jing and said in a deep voice, "He Han, Yang Jing, step onto the stage!"

The wind blew across the drill ground, stirring up wood chips on the ground.

Upon hearing this, Yang Jing and He Han stood up together and walked onto the main arena, standing on opposite sides of the arena and looking at each other.

Now that things have come to this point, neither side dares to underestimate the other.

Even though He Han considered Yang Jing to be an easier target than Xu Guangwei, he wasn't entirely confident that he could defeat Yang Jing, given that he had come this far.

"start!"

No sooner had the silver-armored captain finished speaking than He Han pounced out like a tiger descending a mountain.

He was burly with slightly slumped shoulders. His right palm was held at his waist, with his five fingers together like a knife. It was the Black Tiger Palm, the signature martial art of the Black Tiger Martial Arts School.

The ball of his foot slammed onto the wooden plank of the arena, producing a dull thud that sent splinters of wood flying. A powerful burst of energy shot straight toward Yang Jing's face.

Yang Jing subtly shifted his feet, and the surging wave leg technique quietly unfolded. His figure swayed half a foot to the side like a willow catkin, just avoiding the sharpness of He Han's palm strike.

He did not rush to create distance, but instead lowered his waist and assumed a stance, clenching his right fist tightly. A faint glow appeared on the surface of his fist, and the fierce internal energy of the Mountain-Crushing Fist was gathered at the tip of his fist, which he then unleashed to meet He Han's change of move.

"boom!"

As their fists and palms collided, He Han felt a powerful force coming from his palm, as if he had hit a rolling boulder, and couldn't help but take a half step back.

He was startled; this seemingly thin opponent possessed such solid power in his punches.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Yang Jing spun around, his surging leg technique allowing him to maneuver freely, instantly circling to He Han's side. His left fist followed closely, the wind of the punch like thunder, aimed straight at the opponent's ribs.

The Bengshan Fist emphasizes one step and one punch, with the punch following the step. At this moment, with the agility of the Jingtang Kick, his punching style is even more tricky. Although it is a fierce punch, it carries a bit of unexpected speed.

He Han hurriedly parried with his palms, unleashing the Black Tiger Palm's Heart Protection Stance, his palms overlapping to protect his chest.

"Oh!"

Another muffled thud resounded, and He Han was jolted back several steps, his arm going numb.

He then realized that his opponent's footwork was also not simple. Although his leg techniques were not known for their offensive power, they allowed Yang Jing to adjust his position in an instant and always deliver punches from tricky angles, making his Black Tiger Palm impossible to defend against.

Yang Jing's "Surging Waves Kick" was indeed only at the Ming Jin level. In terms of the attack power of the leg technique alone, it could not threaten He Han, who was at the peak of An Jin.

But at this moment, this footwork became the best aid for the Mountain-Crushing Fist. He lightly touched the ground with his feet, his body moving left and right, like a reef in a stormy sea. It seemed elusive, but in fact, every movement was to find the best point of force for his fist.

"drink!"

He Han was provoked and unleashed both palms simultaneously, displaying the tearing, grabbing, chopping, and slapping techniques of the Black Tiger Palm. The palm wind howled, stirring up debris from the arena.

His internal strength was slightly better than Yang Jing's, and his palm techniques were fierce. If they were to clash head-on, Yang Jing would not have the upper hand.

But Yang Jing didn't fight him head-on. His footwork with the Surging Waves Kick allowed him to avoid the palm strikes by the slightest margin, and then the shadow of the Mountain-Crushing Fist followed him like a shadow.

Sometimes he would slide about ten feet away to avoid He Han's fierce attacks, and sometimes he would suddenly turn back, gathering all his strength in his right fist to strike at the opponent's weakness.

The wind from punches and palms clashed on the stage, creating a constant series of "bang" sounds, each collision causing the air to tremble.

He Han gradually became anxious.

His Black Tiger Palm was known for its fierce power, requiring close-quarters combat to unleash its full potential. However, Yang Jing's footwork was too agile, like a slippery fish, always delivering a punch just as Yang Jing's palm strike was about to be exhausted.

He tried to speed up his palm strikes, but found that his opponent's footwork also quickened. The speed of Yang Jing's Swift Kick gave him the upper hand.

"boom!"

Using the "Wave-Turning Kick" technique, Yang Jing dodged He Han's left palm, then thrust his right fist forward with full force, unleashing the "Stone-Splitting" stance of the "Mountain-Shattering Fist." His fist, carrying the power to shatter rocks, grazed He Han's arm and slammed into his shoulder. He Han groaned, a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder, and his body involuntarily swayed.

He then realized that Yang Jing's leg techniques, though seemingly lacking in offensive power, were like an invisible thread guiding the entire battle, making the powerful Mountain-Crushing Fist even more formidable.

Yang Jing pressed his advantage relentlessly, changing his surging leg technique once more as he closed in, feinting with his left fist while gathering internal energy in his right, aiming straight for He Han's chest.

Before the fist even arrived, it had already made the opponent's clothes flutter loudly.

He Han hastily parried with his palm, but due to his shoulder injury, his movements were a fraction of a second slower. He was hit in the arm by the force of the punch and staggered back several steps, nearly crashing into the railing at the edge of the ring.

On the arena, wood chips and stone chips flew everywhere. Yang Jing's figure moved around He Han, his agile surging kick and powerful mountain-crushing fist intertwined, his fist shadows weaving together, pressing forward step by step.

Although He Han's Black Tiger Palm still had power, it was gradually being suppressed, and he could only barely parry. The veins on his forehead bulged, and he was obviously losing his strength.

The silver-armored captain standing below the arena nodded slightly, his gaze lingering on Yang Jing. This young man combined his fists and legs perfectly, his footwork paving the way for his punches, and his punches using his footwork to generate power. He was a master of both strength and softness, clearly a skilled fighter who used his brain.

Yang Jing seized an opening, lightly tapping the ground with his surging leg, his body suddenly rising half a foot to avoid He Han's sweeping right palm. At the same time, his right fist exploded like thunder, unleashing the full force of the Mountain-Crushing Fist, aiming straight for the opponent's face.

The punch was fast and heavy. He Han cried out in surprise and hurriedly leaned back to dodge, but the wind from the punch still hit the tip of his nose. He felt a surge of pain and his vision blurred.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Yang Jing pressed closer, his fists flashing again, his attacks like a tidal wave. The situation on the stage had quietly shifted.

With Yang Jing's agile movements and speed, he took the lead with each step.

The muffled thuds of fists colliding with palms grew increasingly rapid on the stage. Yang Jing's figure moved around He Han with the agility of his surging kick, while the wind from his Mountain-Shattering Fist followed him like a shadow. Each punch carried the force of a mountain-shaking blow, forcing He Han to retreat repeatedly.

He Han's forehead veins bulged, his palms were numb from the shock, and the injury on his shoulder throbbed with pain.

He knew he couldn't back down any further.

This battle is his last chance.

The sixth place, according to the rules of previous years, at least has a chance to be on the list of candidates for the imperial examination.

However, if one falls to seventh place, it is equivalent to being eliminated. Yuhe County has almost never had more than six candidates pass the examination.

"Fight!"

A fierce glint flashed in He Han's eyes. He let out a low shout and pushed all his internal energy to its limit.

Black Tiger Palm unleashed its full power with the Fierce Tiger Claw technique, its two palms interlacing into claws, and with a sharp whistling sound that tore through the air, it lunged straight at Yang Jing's chest, a desperate, all-or-nothing attack that disregarded its own defense.

His internal strength was already slightly superior to Yang Jing's, and now, in a desperate move, his palm strikes became incredibly violent, as if a black tiger were roaring and pouncing at him.

Yang Jing's eyes narrowed, and his footwork changed abruptly, his feet swirling and spinning like a top, narrowly avoiding the deadly attack.

He Han's palms brushed past his clothes, the wind from the palms making his chest feel stuffy, but he immediately used the momentum to twist his body, his right fist gathering all his strength, the Rock-Splitting Style of the Mountain-Crushing Fist, accompanied by a whistling wind, smashed towards He Han's ribs from an incredible angle.

The punch came too fast. He Han had exhausted his old strength and had not yet generated new strength, so he had no time to defend.

"Oh!"

The fist struck his ribs solidly, and He Han felt a piercing pain. His internal energy dissipated instantly, and his body flew backward like a kite with a broken string.

"boom!"

He slammed heavily against the railing at the edge of the ring, the wooden railing groaning under the weight and bending outwards.

At this point, Yang Jing could no longer hold back.

If He Han is given even a little more breathing room, he will dare to continue fighting. In the end, regardless of victory or defeat, it will only bring him harm, not benefit!

He Han slid to the ground, clutching his ribs and curling up, a trace of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, each breath accompanied by a tearing pain.

Yang Jing did not pursue, but stood there panting. The continuous force of the Mountain-Crushing Fist had also depleted his internal energy, and his back was soaked with sweat.

He looked at He Han on the ground and knew that the other party could not hold on any longer.

He Han struggled to get up, but as soon as he raised his head, the sharp pain in his ribs made his vision go black.

Looking into Yang Jing's calm eyes, and then at the examiners on the stage, the last glimmer of hope in his heart vanished.

He knew that he had lost this battle, and lost completely.

"I surrender."

He Han's voice was hoarse, carrying an indescribable bitterness.

When he uttered those three words, it was as if all his strength had been drained away. He collapsed to the ground, staring blankly at the sky.

Seventh place, and in the end, he still ended up like this, destined to miss the list of candidates for this year's examination.

The arena fell silent instantly, with only the heavy breathing of the two echoing through the air.

Seeing He Han's distraught appearance, Yang Jing felt a sense of relief.

If He Han continues to insist on fighting, he might just beat him unconscious like Lin Yue.

However, He Han is not the same Shen Lie as yesterday, and Yang Jing is unwilling to go this far until the very last moment.

At this moment, the silver-armored captain stepped onto the arena with steady steps, the armor plates colliding and making a crisp sound.

His gaze swept across the area below the arena, and his voice boomed like a bell: "Second group, first match, Yang Jingsheng!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted from below the arena.

The silver-armored captain bent down to examine He Han's injuries, then gestured to the soldiers beside him, and the two carefully carried He Han away.

Yang Jing took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the surging blood and qi within his body, and steadily walked off the stage.

His back was soaked with cold sweat. Although the full force of the Mountain-Crushing Fist had defeated his opponent, it had also caused his right arm to ache slightly, and his internal energy had been depleted by more than half.

Arriving at the rest area below the main arena, he found a spacious, deserted corner to sit down and quickly took out a small jade bottle from his pocket.

As soon as the stopper was removed, a refreshing medicinal fragrance instantly filled the air. Inside was the Rejuvenation Pill that Liu Maolin had given him yesterday.

He poured out a smooth, translucent pill, tilted his head back, and swallowed it.

The pill melted instantly upon entering the mouth, transforming into a warm, soothing current that slid down the throat and gently flowed through the meridians.

The previously stagnant internal energy seemed to be infused with vitality and began to flow slowly.

The soreness in my right arm gradually lessened, and the tightness in my chest also dissipated considerably.

Yang Jing closed his eyes, focused his mind and regulated his breathing, guiding the medicinal power to circulate within his body, striving to recover his condition in the shortest possible time.

He seemed to be shut out from the surrounding noise, focusing solely on restoring his internal energy.

After all, the upcoming competitions will only be more difficult, and he must adjust to his best condition as soon as possible in order to have a chance to go further.

(End of this chapter)