The Azure Sky Sect was in chaos. Banners were hung, drums were beating, and disciples were running around excitedly.
Because the Grand Inner Sect Tournament was about to start.
This was the biggest event of the year. Inner disciples from every corner of the sect would compete to prove their strength. The top ten would earn glory, resources, and the chance to study under an elder directly.
But to Li Ming, it only meant one thing.
"Ughhh... tournaments mean I can’t nap."
At the main square, Elder Qin stood proudly on the stage. Thousands of disciples filled the stands, cheering.
"Disciples!" Elder Qin shouted. "This year’s tournament will decide the future pillars of the sect! Show us your strength!"
The crowd roared back. "YES, ELDER!"
Li Ming yawned so loudly that the disciples beside him jumped.
"Why is he yawning at a time ?"
"Maybe he’s too confident?"
"Scary... only true experts act this relaxed!"
Li Ming rubbed his eyes. I’m not confident... I’m just sleepy...
The first round was announced: one-on-one duels.
Names appeared on the giant stone board.
"First match—Li Ming versus Zhao Kang!"
"Li Ming’s first match!"
"Zhao Kang is doomed!"
"I can’t wait to see Thunder Palm!"
Zhao Kang, a burly disciple, jumped onto the stage with a grin. He flexed his arms, showing off his muscles. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novelꞁire.net
"Li Ming! I’ll crush you like a bug!"
Li Ming scratched his head. "Crush me? Do I look like a bug to you?"
Zhao Kang sneered. "When I’m done, you’ll be crawling on the ground."
Li Ming sighed. "Great... another musclehead. Why can’t I ever fight someone who likes tea and chess?"
The gong rang. "Begin!"
Zhao Kang charged, his fists glowing with qi. He threw a punch that could break a wall.
Li Ming calmly stepped to the side with Heavenly Steps.
The punch missed completely. Zhao Kang stumbled.
"He dodged like a shadow!"
Li Ming wagged his finger. "Tsk tsk. You need better aim. Even my grandma could dodge that."
Zhao Kang’s face turned red. "You—!"
He swung again. And again. And again. Each time, Li Ming moved just a little, making Zhao Kang miss by a hair.
It looked effortless. Almost graceful.
"Missed again," Li Ming said cheerfully. "You sure you don’t need glasses?"
The crowd burst out laughing.
Zhao Kang roared in rage. He gathered all his qi into one giant punch.
Li Ming sighed. "Alright, my turn."
He raised his palm. Sparks crackled. Lightning flashed.
The blast sent Zhao Kang flying out of the stage. He landed in a water barrel, smoking like a roasted duck.
The referee raised his hand. "Winner—Li Ming!"
The crowd went crazy.
"Thunder Palm is too terrifying!"
Li Ming rubbed his palm. "Ow... now my hand feels like it touched a hot stove..."
But no one heard him. To them, he was a legend.
That night, the whole sect was buzzing.
"Did you see Li Ming’s fight?"
"He toyed with Zhao Kang like a cat with a mouse!"
"He’s not just strong—he’s entertaining!"
Meanwhile, Li Ming sat in his room, eating plain rice.
"Entertaining? What am I, a street performer?"
Zhao Kang woke up in the medical hall, wrapped in bandages.
He pointed at a doctor. "Quick! Tell me honestly! Was I defeated by Li Ming’s strength... or my bad luck?"
The doctor replied, "You were defeated by both."