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

The courtyard was eerily quiet.

Only the flagpole rope, rustling in the wind, made a faint hissing sound that sent a chill down one's spine.

Chen Zhenggang's gaze was fixed on Jiang Lan, refusing to look away for even a moment.

The surrounding disciples exchanged glances and looked around nervously, but none of them dared to utter a sound.

On the stage, Liu Changqing sat upright like a pine tree, his palms resting on the armrests, his knuckles tightening little by little, turning bluish-white.

He looked at Jiang Lan, his lips moved slightly, but he ultimately kept them closed—this was a matter of face for the martial arts school, and if he backed down, he would lose everything; he couldn't afford to lose his composure first.

Chen Zhenggang waited three breaths, but received no response. He chuckled and leaned back lazily. "Master Liu, does your disciple think my son's Yixingquan is unworthy of his attention?"

His words were laced with veiled threats, each sentence a barrage of pressure. Ostensibly a questioning statement, it was in reality an attempt to confirm the martial arts school's cowardice and force Liu Changqing into a corner.

Liu Changqing spoke in a deep voice, trying to leave room for maneuver: "Brother Zhenggang is overthinking it. Jiang Lan just finished his arduous cultivation and is not in good condition. I'm afraid—"

"Can."

The two words were clear and crisp, not loud, yet they pierced through the deathly silence of the entire venue, each word falling into everyone's ears.

Jiang Lan slowly walked out from the back of the crowd. He went straight to the center of the venue, stood still, and looked up at Chen Nian on the stage.

Chen Nian was taken aback at first, then a haughty smile appeared on her lips as she stepped off the stage.

The two stood five feet apart, exchanging greetings with clasped hands. Chen Nian bowed slightly, displaying a superior air of composure.

"Please," Chen Nian said.

Jiang Lan remained silent as before.

Chen Nian frowned slightly, and without waiting any longer, she suddenly moved.

His toes slid across the bluestone ground, his figure slithered like a serpent, so fast that it left a trail of afterimages.

He unleashed all the deadly moves of the Yi Xing Quan snake-like style, his right hand forming a blade-like shape, aiming straight for Jiang Lan's Tian Tu acupoint on the throat. He went all out from the start, leaving no room for retreat, wanting to finish the battle quickly and establish his father's authority.

Jiang Lan stood still, motionless.

With fingertips only three inches from the throat, the strong wind made the skin on the neck feel tight.

Jiang Lan's left hand finally moved.

The slap landed precisely on the most vulnerable joint of Chen Nian's wrist. The force was not strong, but it was extremely skillful, hitting the very core of the opponent's strength.

Chen Nian felt a numbness in her wrist, and her internal energy instantly dissipated. Her arm tilted to one side, and her fingertips grazed Jiang Lan's neck without even touching his collar.

Chen Nian was startled when his move missed and quickly withdrew his hand to change his attack.

But it was too late!

Jiang Lan extended his right hand smoothly, his palm firmly planted, and struck Chen Nian's chest directly.

The force surged forth, penetrating through clothing and striking directly at the internal organs.

Chen Nian's body trembled, as if she was pulled by an invisible force. Her feet left the ground instantly, and she flew backwards for seven or eight feet. When she landed, she staggered a few steps, her legs went weak, and she fell heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

The entire room fell silent!

From the moment Chen Nian made her move to her defeat and fall to the ground, it took only two breaths and two moves.

Even a disciple of the Yi Xing Quan sect with seven acupoints of cultivation couldn't even touch the hem of Jiang Lan's clothes.

Chen Nian looked down at the clear handprint on her chest. The fabric was intact, but the inside was burning with pain, and her blood was churning.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; his eyes were filled with horror and disbelief.

On the stage, Chen Zhenggang's hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air. The tea spilled out, dripping down the rim of the cup and soaking the fabric of his clothes on his knees, but he was completely unaware.

His eyes were fixed on Jiang Lan, his pupils contracted slightly, and for the first time, a wave of emotion surged in his heart.

Liu Changqing slowly loosened his fingers from the armrest, tapped it lightly with his fingertips, and then remained still. The seriousness in his eyes lessened slightly.

The disciples below the stage could no longer contain their noise; a hushed murmur of astonishment filled the air.

"You lost in just two moves?"

"What exactly is Senior Brother Jiang's cultivation level?"

Chen Nian pushed himself up from the ground, brushed the dust off his clothes, forced his back to straighten, clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, his voice hoarse: "Senior Brother Jiang, your skills are excellent."

Jiang Lan nodded slightly, remaining silent.

Chen Zhenggang slowly stood up on the stage.

His movements were extremely slow, each step heavy, drawing all eyes to him. He descended the steps, approaching Jiang Lan step by step until they were less than four feet apart, their breaths mingling.

He pressed down heavily, carrying the imposing aura of decades of martial arts experience.

"Young brother, let this old man learn a few moves from you."

Jiang Lan raised her eyes, meeting his gaze directly, her expression cool and calm, and uttered only one word: "Please."

The air froze instantly.

The wind in the courtyard had completely stopped; the flagpole rope no longer swayed, and even the dust had ceased to fall. The two stood facing each other, their auras intertwined, an invisible tension stretched to its limit, ready to erupt at any moment.

Chen Zhenggang remained motionless, as did Jiang Lan.

This is a standoff, but also a psychological test. Whoever makes the first move may reveal even the slightest weakness.

Three breaths later, Chen Zhenggang's right fist finally slowly emerged.

The punch was extremely slow, so slow that everyone present could clearly see every inch of its trajectory.

The veins on his fists bulged, and the joints rubbed together, producing a soft "crackling" sound. The integrated power of Yixingquan (意形拳) rose from the soles of his feet, passed through his waist and hips, down his spine, through his shoulders and elbows, and all gathered at the tip of his fist, like a fully drawn bow, ready to be released. The air around his fist was slowly compressed, emitting a deep hum, but it did not explode.

This is the ultimate test.

He wanted to use his decades of cultivation to force out Jiang Lan's true level and figure out the foundation of his strength. Even the slightest flaw could instantly turn the tide.

The punches are delivered in progressive layers, powerful, steady, and refined. Every bit of force is controlled with extreme precision, leaving room for maneuver while also being sufficient to probe the opponent's strength.

Jiang Lan remained unmoved.

He slowly raised his right hand, fingers naturally spread, palm facing forward, and extended it flatly to meet Chen Zhenggang's fist. There was no gathering of strength, no ferocity; the movement was as calm as raising a hand to brush away dust.

Fist and palm met.

A dull "plop" sounded, like a fist slamming into a water-soaked cotton ball, instantly swallowing up all the fierce force.

Chen Zhenggang's fist remained firmly in Jiang Lan's palm, completely still.

In an instant, Chen Zhenggang's expression changed drastically.

He could clearly sense that the force of his punch, which he had poured all his energy into, was like a raging torrent crashing into a bottomless abyss. It was not resisted, not blocked, but completely swallowed up, dissolved, and dissolved.

The force flowing through Jiang Lan's palm was neither forceful nor fierce, but rather profound and harmonious, like iron hidden in cotton, or a boulder wrapped in water.

His punch struck, but the force was deflected layer by layer, dissolved bit by bit, without even the slightest rebound. All the force sank to the bottom of the sea, leaving no trace.

He tried to pull his fist back, but found his wrist locked by a gentle yet firm force, unable to move.

Where their palms touched, Jiang Lan's strength was perfectly integrated, flowing from head to toe, flawless, without the slightest gap or weakness.

There was no strain, no effort, and not even focus.

Jiang Lan's eyes remained calm and indifferent, as if catching that punch was nothing more than a trivial matter.

Chen Zhenggang's pupils contracted sharply, and a storm raged in his heart.

The seven acupoints possess powerful and fierce energy, which is fully exposed; the eight acupoints possess steady and controlled energy, which is controlled in a measured way.

The state of perfect harmony, unified power, and impeccable strength that we are in front of can only be achieved by opening up the nine acupoints.

"Perfectly integrated power...nine acupoints?!"

Chen Zhenggang's voice was hoarse and so low that only the two of them could hear it; every word trembled, filled with disbelief and shock.

This young man before me, at such a young age, has already entered the realm of the Nine Acupoints!

Jiang Lan slowly loosened her hand, withdrew her right hand, took a half step back, and her aura returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.

Chen Zhenggang withdrew his fist, and five faint red finger marks were clearly visible on the surface of his fist, left by the force of Jiang Lan's fingertips.

He moved his fingers, his knuckles cracking, his wrists tingling, his blood surging, and that smooth, flowing energy still coursing through his arms, lingering for a long time.

He looked up at Jiang Lan, the disdain and arrogance in his eyes completely vanished, leaving only shock, fear, and a trace of undisguised resentment.

"Master Liu, congratulations! You have a worthy successor!"