The second day of the tournament arrived. The sun shone brightly, and the square was filled with disciples again. Everyone was talking about the same thing.
"Who will Li Ming fight today?"
"I heard his next opponent is a sword genius!"
"This is going to be good!"
Li Ming walked lazily toward the stage, rubbing his belly. He had skipped breakfast because the cafeteria ran out of steamed buns.
"This tournament is already cruel," he muttered.
The stone board lit up with glowing names.
"Second round—Li Ming versus Jian Fan!"
"Jian Fan! He’s one of the best sword users in the sect!"
"His sword is as fast as lightning!"
"They say he trained under three elders at once!"
Li Ming blinked. Three elders? What is he, a group project?
On stage, Jian Fan appeared in a dazzling white robe. His long sword gleamed as if it were alive. He pointed it at Li Ming dramatically.
"Li Ming, I have waited for this day. Your Heavenly Steps may be fast, but my sword will cut through even the wind itself."
The crowd gasped in admiration. "So cool!" The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel⸺fire.net
Li Ming scratched his head. "Wait, wait. Did you just rehearse that line in front of a mirror this morning?"
Some disciples choked back laughter. Jian Fan’s face twitched.
"This isn’t a joke! Prepare yourself!"
The gong rang. "Begin!"
Jian Fan moved instantly. His sword shot forward like a streak of light.
"First sword—Piercing Cloud!" he shouted.
Li Ming tilted his head. Why are sword guys always naming their moves after the weather?
He stepped aside with Heavenly Steps. The sword missed by an inch.
Jian Fan’s eyes narrowed. "Second sword—Breaking Rain!"
This time, he unleashed a flurry of slashes, fast and sharp. Sparks flew as the sword sliced the stage floor.
Li Ming bent his knees, hopped back, and muttered, "Rain? Feels more like someone angrily chopping vegetables."
The crowd burst out laughing.
Jian Fan’s face turned red. "Stop mocking my sword techniques!"
"Then stop naming them after the weather!" Li Ming shouted back.
Finally, Jian Fan unleashed his strongest move. He raised his sword high, qi swirling around him like a storm.
"Final sword—Thunderstorm Slash!"
The sky above darkened. Lightning cracked. The crowd held their breath.
"This is his strongest attack!"
"Can Li Ming dodge it?!"
Li Ming’s eyes lit up. "Ohhh! Finally, something with thunder! Perfect!"
He raised his palm. Sparks gathered, bright and fierce.
Lightning from Jian Fan’s sword met the lightning from Li Ming’s hand. The clash exploded, shaking the entire arena.
When the smoke cleared, Jian Fan was flat on his back, his sword spinning away into the air. His hair stood up like a broom.
Li Ming stood in the middle, his hand smoking slightly.
He looked at his palm. "Huh. This move really does hurt the hand..."
The referee raised his voice. "Winner—Li Ming!"
The stands went wild.
"He beat the sword genius!"
"He countered thunder with thunder!"
"No one can stop him now!"
Jian Fan, groaning on the ground, raised one shaky finger. "Your... thunder is louder than mine..." Then he fainted.
Back in the disciples’ quarters, Li Ming collapsed onto his bed.
"Two matches already... Can’t I just skip to the finals and take a nap?"
But outside, the disciples were chanting his name like crazy.
"Li Ming! Li Ming! Li Ming!"
Li Ming pulled his blanket over his head. If this keeps up, I’ll need to move to another sect just to sleep in peace.
That night, Wu Jian sat in his courtyard, grinding his teeth.
"First Zhao Kang, now Jian Fan... Everyone is losing to Li Ming! At this rate, even the sect leader will bow to him!"
Just then, a chicken hopped onto his wall and clucked loudly.
Wu Jian shouted, "Not you again!"
He threw a shoe. The chicken dodged and flew away, leaving Wu Jian stomping angrily in his yard.
The next morning, rumors spread:
"Wu Jian was training secret throwing techniques all night!"
"He must be preparing to fight Li Ming!"
Wu Jian nearly spat blood when he heard it.