Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

The countdown to the armed police's petition has begun; there are 73 days left.

Jiang Lan stood in front of the wooden stakes in the new training room, finished practicing the Bengshan Fist for the last time, and then stood still.

Sweat dripped from his chin onto the ground, leaving a small wet patch. He looked down at his hands—the calluses on his knuckles had thickened again, but the feeling of blood circulation told him that while the third acupoint was stable, the fourth was still a long way off.

He put on his outer robe, left the training room, and went to find Sun Gengsan.

Sun Gengsan was wiping his knife in the side room when he saw Jiang Lan enter. He put down the knife and grinned, "Finished practicing?"

"Senior brother, I'd like to ask you something." Jiang Lan closed the door and lowered his voice, "Are there any underground boxing matches near Yu City?"

Sun Gengsan's smile froze on his face. He stared at Jiang Lan for a few moments, then stood up, bolted the door, turned around, and lowered his voice: "Are you crazy? Underground boxing is a place where people can die!"

"That's why I'm asking you for advice," Jiang Lan said. "There are only two months left until the martial arts exam, and I need real combat experience. The more ruthless, the better."

Sun Gengsan was silent for a while, then sighed, pulled a crumpled piece of paper from under the bed, and handed it to him: "Thirty miles west of the city, there's a place called Wild Fox Ridge. There's a fight every three days, at night. When you go, don't say you're from a martial arts school; wear a mask and use an alias."

"How did you know, senior brother?"

"I went there once with someone before." Sun Gengsan stuffed the note into his hand. "Don't tell Master."

Jiang Lan tucked the note into his pocket and nodded.

In the afternoon, at the martial arts training ground.

Jiang Lan didn't return to the training room, but instead stood in the common wooden stake area, wanting to observe how others practiced. Several formal disciples were gathered together, talking softly, but their voices drifted over on the wind.

"Have you heard? Several martial arts schools in the prefecture are going to hold a friendly match before the martial arts examination, and Guangchang has been invited." The speaker was a tall man with a straight back and calluses on his knuckles as thick as tree bark.

"I heard about it. Eighth Senior Brother, are you going?" a round-faced disciple asked from the side.

The tall Zhao Heng, with eight acupoints, had been with the martial arts school for five years and was the strongest person there besides Instructor Liu. He shook his head: "Whether I go or not depends on Master's arrangements. But for these friendly matches, only those with five or more acupoints participate. You two with six acupoints have a chance."

Zhou Ping, the round-faced disciple with six acupoints, scratched his head: "I'd like to go, but I'd just be someone's sparring partner. Any martial arts school in the prefectural city could easily have seven or eight acupoints."

Another disciple with six acupoints—the tall and thin Li Yan—sneered, "Being a sparring partner is better than staying cooped up here. At least I can broaden my horizons and learn what the martial arts examination is about."

Shen Qing stood to the side, holding a pair of stone locks, and remained silent. He was only at the first level of his cultivation, not even having reached the threshold, so these topics were irrelevant to him.

Zhao Heng turned his head and saw Jiang Lan, waving at him: "Jiang Lan, Master said you've opened three acupoints in half a year. Are you going to the friendly match? It'll broaden your horizons."

Jiang Lan shook her head: "No."

"Why?" Zhou Ping asked curiously, leaning closer. "This is a rare opportunity. Disciples from several martial arts schools in the prefecture will be going, and I heard that people from sects will also be there."

"My disciple isn't strong enough; going there would only bring shame to the martial arts school," Jiang Lan said. "Let's focus on training first."

Li Yan scoffed, "You only have three acupoints, that's definitely not enough. You'd be at the bottom even if you went."

Zhao Heng glared at him, and Li Yan shut up. Zhao Heng turned to Jiang Lan, his tone softening: "The threshold for the martial arts examination is five acupoints, you still have time. However, you should look into what's happening in the prefectural city. The imperial court is paying more and more attention to the martial arts examination, and I heard that this year, sects will be coming to select promising talents. If you pass the martial arts examination, you'll not only receive a salary, but you might also be noticed by a major sect."

Sects? Jiang Lan's heart skipped a beat. He used to only think about passing the martial arts exam, earning fame and fortune, and giving his mother a better life. He had never thought about sects; they were too far-fetched.

Zhou Ping chimed in, "Eighth Senior Brother is right. The martial arts examination is just a stepping stone; only those who pass are qualified to be selected by the sect. If you don't pass, you're nothing."

The group chatted for a few more minutes before dispersing.

Jiang Lan stood before the wooden stake, his mind replaying the words he had just spoken. The threshold for the martial arts examination was five acupoints; he was two short. He wouldn't go to the friendly match. Not because he didn't want to, but because it would be pointless—sparring with those who had only three or four acupoints was less worthwhile than fighting in underground boxing matches, honing his skills on the edge of life and death.

He closed his eyes and began to practice standing meditation.

Night falls.

Jiang Lan changed into all black, covered his face with a black cloth, leaving only his eyes visible. He tucked a short sword into his waistband and slipped out of the martial arts school through the back door. Sun Gengsan was waiting for him at the alley entrance, carrying a cloth bag.

"Are you really going?" Sun Geng asked three times.

"I'm really going."

Sun Gengsan sighed and handed him the cloth bag: "There are medicine and bandages inside. Don't die out there."

Jiang Lan took the cloth bag, nodded, and turned to disappear into the night.

Wild Fox Ridge is thirty li west of Yu City. It is a barren slope with several abandoned factory buildings on it. After dark, lights are lit inside the buildings, and more than a dozen carriages are parked outside, all carrying gentlemen who have come to place bets.

Jiang Lan sneaked in through the back door, but a lame old man stopped him.

"New here? What's your name?"

"Stone," Jiang Lan said.

"One acupoint or two acupoints?"

"Second acupoint." He didn't mention the third acupoint, not wanting to attract too much attention.

The lame old man stuck a wooden sign on his chest that read "Second Cave, Stone," and pointed to the area behind him: "Wait for your number to be called."

The arena wasn't large; a rope cordoned off the center, and thirty or forty people stood around it—spectators, gamblers, and martial artists waiting to enter the fray. Jiang Lan huddled in a corner, observing the battle unfolding in the arena.

On the field, a martial artist with one acupoint was fighting a martial artist with two acupoints. The one with one acupoint was being overwhelmed, his face bruised and swollen, but he stubbornly refused to admit defeat. The spectators started to jeer, some shouting "Kill him!" and others shouting "Get up!" Jiang Lan watched, expressionless.

The first match is over. The one with two holes won, and the one with one hole was dragged away like a dead dog.

"Second hole - Stone, opposite the first hole - Iron Ox." The lame old man's voice came from the corner.

Jiang Lan walked into the arena. His opponent was a burly man, shirtless, with a bull tattooed on his chest. He glanced at Jiang Lan and grinned, "Second acupoint? With your build, you're no match for me."

Jiang Lan remained silent.

"Begin!" the lame old man waved his hand.

Tie Niu charged forward, throwing a punch at Jiang Lan's face. The punch was powerful, but too slow. Jiang Lan dodged to the side and landed a punch on Tie Niu's ribs—not using the stance of the Mountain-Crushing Fist, just a regular straight punch, but imbued with the force of a mountain-crushing strike. Tie Niu grunted, staggered back three steps, clutching his ribs, his face contorted in pain.

Jiang Lan gave him no chance to catch his breath, following up with another punch that landed squarely on his chest. Tie Niu flew backward, crashing into the rope, bouncing back, and lying motionless on the ground.

There was a moment of silence in the arena, then cheers erupted.

"Stone wins!" The lame old man raised his hand.

Jiang Lan turned and walked off the stage, her breathing beneath her face mask steady, barely a drop of sweat on her brow. Too weak!

This kind of opponent offers him no challenge whatsoever.

He leaned against the wall, waiting for the next round.

The lame old man walked over and looked him up and down: "Kid, are you really a second-level acupoint? I don't think so."

"It's the second acupoint," Jiang Lan said.

The old man narrowed his eyes, didn't ask any more questions, and turned to leave.

Not long after, the lame old man returned, followed by a tall, thin figure. The man was also masked, only his narrow eyes were visible, their gaze sinister, like a snake's. A wooden plaque on his chest read "Second Cave - Green Snake."

"Next match, Second Acupoint Stone versus Second Acupoint Green Snake." The lame old man's voice wasn't loud, but the arena fell silent instantly.

Some whispered among themselves, "Green Snake? That Green Snake who tricked three martial artists with three acupoints?"

"That's him. This kid's unlucky; he ran into the Green Snake."

Jiang Lan glanced at the green snake. The man was also looking at him, his eyes filled with mockery, like a cat looking at a mouse.

The lame old man raised his hand, about to shout "Start!"

The green snake suddenly spoke, its voice shrill and thin, like fingernails scraping against a wooden board: "Boy, it's not too late for you to admit defeat now. Don't blame me if you lose your arms and legs later."

Jiang Lan did not answer, but took a step forward and slowly clenched her fists.

The lame old man's hand fell.

"start!"

The green snake didn't rush forward; instead, it circled the area, its steps as light as a cat's. It was waiting, waiting for Jiang Lan to make the first move, waiting for Jiang Lan to reveal an opening.

Jiang Lan remained calm, standing still and watching his footsteps. The two faced off, the silence so profound that the crackling of torches could be heard.

Suddenly, the green snake moved. It didn't lunge, it slipped—its body swayed, it pressed against Jiang Lan from the side, its five fingers pressed together like a knife, aimed straight at Jiang Lan's throat.

This move was fast and ruthless, with a tricky angle; it was not the kind of speed a second-level martial artist should have!

Jiang Lan's pupils contracted sharply, and his body instinctively leaned back, avoiding his throat. The green snake's fingertips grazed his chin, leaving a bloody mark.

Jiang Lan took two steps back, touched her chin, and found blood on her fingertips.

The green snake didn't give chase. It stood there, licked the blood from its fingertips, and smiled: "Not bad. But next time, you won't be so lucky."

The spectators in the arena got excited; some shouted "Kill him!" and others started placing bets.

Jiang Lan stared into the green snake's eyes and understood. This person wasn't at the second level of the acupoint realm. He had concealed his strength, or rather, he had killed a third-level acupoint martial artist not through brute force, but through underhanded tactics. His speed, angle, and timing far surpassed those of a second-level acupoint martial artist.

This person is here to kill someone.

The green snake moved again. This time it was faster, like a real snake, darting across the ground and throwing a punch at Jiang Lan's abdomen. Jiang Lan twisted his waist to dodge, the fist grazing his side, the force of the blow causing his clothes to flutter loudly.

Jiang Lan retaliated—striking a punch at the Green Snake's face. The Green Snake tilted its head to the side, simultaneously kicking Jiang Lan's knee. Jiang Lan raised his leg to block, their legs colliding with a dull thud, each taking a step back.

Green Snake's eyes changed. He hadn't expected that this "second acupoint" could keep up with his speed.

Jiang Lan's breathing also became rapid. This person was stronger than he had imagined. Not in terms of strength, but in terms of cunning. Every move was aimed at vital points: throat, eyes, groin, knees—all fatal spots.

After exchanging a few more blows, Green Snake suddenly feinted a punch and turned to run. Jiang Lan gave chase—but before he could take a step, Green Snake whirled around and slammed his elbow into his temple.

This is a trap! He deliberately feigned weakness to lure Jiang Lan into pursuit, and then launched a surprise attack.

Jiang Lan had no time to dodge and could only raise his arm to block. His elbow slammed into his forearm, making the bone feel like it was about to crack. He gritted his teeth and endured it, advancing instead of retreating, and punched the green snake in the chest.

The green snake grunted, took two steps back, clutched its chest, and looked both shocked and angry.

"You...you're not the second acupoint?"

Jiang Lan didn't answer, clenched her fist, and took a step forward.

The green snake took a step back.

The spectators in the arena went wild, their shouts deafening. The lame old man stood in the corner, squinting at Jiang Lan, a slow smile creeping onto his lips.

Jiang Lan and the Green Snake faced off, neither making the first move.

The torchlight flickered on their faces, casting long and short shadows.

The green snake suddenly laughed, a cold laugh: "Boy, what's your name?"

"Stone."

"Stone..." The green snake chewed the word over in her mouth, "I've got it."

He turned and walked off the field. The limping old man paused for a moment: "It's not over yet—"

"That's it." The Green Serpent said without turning its head. "He's not at the second level. There's no point in fighting someone who's hiding their strength."

He disappeared into the darkness.

The arena erupted in uproar. Some cursed Green Snake for being a coward, while others shouted that Stone had won. The lame old man raised his hand and announced, "Second Cave Stone wins."

Jiang Lan stood in the center of the arena, the wound on his arm still throbbing, the blood on his chin already dried. He stared in the direction the green snake had disappeared, his heart sinking. This person remembered him; this was no good.

He turned and walked out of the venue. In a secluded corner, he pulled off his mask and gasped for breath.

A golden panel flashed slightly in his mind—

【Crushing Mountain Fist (Minor Mastery): 102/500 → 110/500】

As expected, prices went up!

But the Green Serpent, despite only having two acupoints, is even more troublesome than a martial artist with three acupoints.

If he had used the complete Mountain-Crushing Fist instead of the Mountain-Crushing Force today, would he have been recognized? If Green Snake hadn't been testing him, but instead fought to the death, would he have been able to walk out alive?

He clenched his fists, covered his face with the mask again, and disappeared into the night.

Behind them, the lights of Wild Fox Ridge were still on, and shouts and curses mingled together, drifting far away.