Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

Lin Feng said, "Widow Bai, I heard you used to be a matchmaker for people?"

"Yes, young master."

Lin Feng nodded and pointed to Zhao Erniu beside him, saying, "His name is Zhao Erniu. He's this year's martial arts scholar. Do you think he can find a well-bred young lady?"

Widow Bai's eyes lit up and she laughed, "Absolutely! Scholar Wu is the ideal son-in-law that so many people long for."

"If you don't mind, sir, I have a young daughter who can marry you. She doesn't want anything else."

This made Zhao Erniu feel a little embarrassed.

Lin Feng sized up the white widow. Although she was old and her beauty had faded, and her cheeks were full, she still had a good foundation and was quite pretty when she was young. "Okay, no problem. If it works out, I'll send a gift."

Lin Feng thought it was a good idea; finding a girl from an ordinary family was better than finding a lady from a wealthy family, at least Zhao Erniu could control her.

Without hesitation, Lin Feng had Widow Bai call her daughter over that very day.

Although she wasn't as pretty as Xueyao and the other girls, her looks were still pretty good, at least a 7 out of 10.

Lin Feng: "How about Erniu?"

Zhao Erniu, a burly man, was surprisingly a little shy: "Is...okay?"

This scene made Lin Feng laugh.

The man and woman were in love, and Zhao Erniu bought a small courtyard house that very day for three hundred taels of silver.

The wedding was held that evening.

Lin Feng's gift was also very simple: he gave a copy of the innate martial arts manual "Li Yang Quick Blade" and 300 taels of silver.

This can be considered a minor incident during the martial arts examination.

Three days passed quickly. Although there were only 45 people in the second round of elimination, the pace of the competition was relatively slow.

It took a full five days to finish.

Only Lin Feng and Wu Changning from Huayang Prefecture advanced; all the others were eliminated.

This result was within Zhao Boli's expectations; he knew exactly what level those people were at.

Reaching this point is already an extraordinary achievement.

Lin Feng stood in the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the remaining sixteen people without making a sound.

Among the top 18, most are skilled fighters at the sixth or seventh level of the Acquired Realm, with solid foundations and steady aura.

Besides Wu Changning, there were two others whose auras were clearly different, exuding a sense of oppression only those at the Innate Realm possessed.

A young man dressed in black, with a cold and stern face, stood holding a sword. His aura was restrained yet sharp, like a sharp sword hidden in its sheath.

The other person, dressed in a blue robe, was also of the Innate Realm, but after careful observation, Lin Feng discovered that his aura was weak and his foundation was unstable.

This person is clearly a cultivator who has reached the Innate Realm through the accumulation of elixirs; he has the realm but lacks the corresponding foundation.

It would be overwhelming against those in the Acquired Realm, but against a true Innate Realm expert, it probably wouldn't last more than a few moves.

In the entire Liangzhou region, a total of four Xiantian masters emerged from this year's martial arts examination.

Lin Feng had initially thought that the eighteen people would be divided into three groups of six, with the top four advancing. This would allow them to select twelve people, from which two would be eliminated.

Unexpectedly, the rules announced by the examiner were quite different.

"Of the next eighteen people, eight will be eliminated to determine the top ten."

The examiner stood on the stage, expressionless, and announced, "We will divide you into two groups, A and B, with nine people in each group."

The rules are the same as the previous round: teams take turns playing against each other within their groups.

Four people are eliminated from each group, leaving five people to advance.

Ten players advanced, and their rankings were determined based on their performance.

Of course, anyone who disagrees can take turns challenging them.

He glanced at everyone and said in a deep voice, "Did you understand?"

"clear!"

The eighteen people responded in unison.

"Start the lottery"

"Yes"

The 18 people drew lots in turn. Lin Feng looked down at the number in his hand—Group B, Number 3.

The draw is over, and the competition will begin with Group A.

Wu Changning was drawn into Group A.

The moment he stepped onto the stage, his ruthless aura was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

None of the opponents he faced dared to fight him head-on.

Some gave up after a couple of symbolic gestures, while others surrendered directly.

"I admit defeat."

"I give up too."

"I can't beat them, I can't beat them, I admit defeat."

In several matches, Wu Changning surrendered without even drawing his sword.

Since we can't win, surrendering early will at least save our lives and allow us to rebuild.

Wu Changning stood on the stage, his gaze coldly sweeping over the opponents who had admitted defeat, a hint of disdain on his lips.

He enjoyed the feeling, enjoyed the fear these people had of him.

Another focus of Group A was the young man in black.

"Have you heard? This Wu Jian is from the Jianyang Sect, and he's already quite famous in the martial arts world."

"Yes, I've heard that they hate evil and are dedicated to righting wrongs."

The sword in his hand has slain many villains.

"I wonder who's more powerful, him or Wu Changning?"

"We'll only know after we fight."

Lin Feng listened to the surrounding discussions and his gaze fell on Wu Jian.

This person exudes a restrained aura, walks with a steady gait, and each move is clean and swift, without any unnecessary actions.

The opponents he faced were almost all defeated with a single, decisive move, not by using excessive force, but by striking just the right moment to incapacitate them without causing significant damage.

This is a master.

Moreover, they are true masters honed through countless real-world battles.

Time slips away quietly.

In the Group A matches, Wu Changning and Wu Jian encountered almost no worthy opponents, sweeping all opponents and advancing with a perfect record.

In the afternoon, it was finally their turn to face off.

The news caused an uproar throughout the training ground.

The crowd surged toward the Group A arena like a tidal wave, forming a dense, impenetrable barrier.

Everyone wanted to see for themselves which of these two innate masters was stronger.

On the high platform, Ding Jianyang, the governor of Liangzhou, sat upright in the center, his gaze fixed on the arena.

Standing beside him was a skilled fighter in gray robes, whose aura was also formidable.

Ding Jianyang turned his head and whispered to the old man, "No matter who wins or loses, neither of you should hurt the other."

These are all promising talents from Liangzhou; not a single one can be lost.

"Yes, ma'am." The old man nodded slightly.

Ding Jianyang looked away, secretly relieved.

This year, Liangzhou produced four Innate Realm experts, making it the strongest batch in its history.

He treasured them so much that he wished he could directly guarantee their advancement.

But a military examination is a military examination; the rules cannot be broken.

All he can do is make sure these promising young players don't fail on the field.

On the arena, the two stood facing each other.

Wu Jian was dressed in a black outfit, holding a long sword, his eyes sharp as an eagle's.

He had strong features, a stern face, and an aura of righteousness. Standing there, he was like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath.

Wu Changning was dressed in a white robe, his face grim.

His gaze was fierce, and the hatred he felt was not just directed at the person in front of him, but rather at the entire world.

One black and one white.

One is righteous, the other is evil.

It was like a fateful duel.

A perfectly timed autumn breeze suddenly arose, swirling up a few fallen leaves that drifted between the two.

The robes fluttered in the wind, making a rustling sound.

It created a lively atmosphere.

The audience was silent.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the sound of the gong.

thump—

The gong rang out.

The two moved at the same time.

Wu Jian made the first move.

With a flick of his wrist, the longsword transformed into a streak of light, its sharp sword energy piercing straight for Wu Changning's throat.

This sword strike was fast and ruthless, with a tricky angle, almost completely eliminating any possibility of dodging.

Wu Changning's pupils contracted slightly, and he quickly dodged to the side.

The sword energy grazed his cheek, severing a few strands of hair.

Before he could even stand still, Wu Jian had already pounced on him.

The second sword followed immediately, aimed straight for his heart.

The sword strikes were relentless, each one faster than the last, forcing Wu Changning to defend passively and retreat repeatedly.

In the blink of an eye, the three swords had been exchanged.

Wu Changning didn't even have a chance to draw his sword.

A gasp of surprise rippled through the audience.

"This...this is way too fast!"

"Wu Changning couldn't even fight back?"

"Wu Jian is too strong!"

On the high platform, Ding Jianyang's eyes lit up and he nodded slightly.

In the crowd below the stage, Lin Feng narrowed his eyes, watching Wu Jian's every move.

Draw the sword, then sheathe it.

Footwork and body movement.

Every move was fluid and seamless.

The silky smoothness has long been integrated into my understanding.

This isn't something you train for; it's something you fight for, an instinct honed through countless life-or-death battles.

This Wu Jian truly lives up to his reputation as the eldest disciple of the Jianyang Sect. His swordsmanship is exquisite, his foundation is solid, and his attacks are decisive and ruthless, yet without a single superfluous flourish.

This is a true master.

Lin Feng was an expert in Wu Changning's swordsmanship.

Ten moves, and defeat is inevitable.