Han Yu was rather impressed by She Ming.
’She’s good. Probably from some prestigious clan,’ he mused, noting her elegant yet practical light-blue robes and the steel-ribbed fan strapped to her waist. ’Her weapon’s a fan? Huh. Fancy.’
The fight lasted for a full ten minutes—longer than any other bout so far. While Fan Lian’s technique was solid, She Ming’s stamina and agility gave her the edge. In the end, Fan Lian’s energy waned, and She Ming, seeing her moment, struck with precision.
Han Yu watched with growing admiration. ’I need to be careful around her. She fights like a snake—silent, patient, and deadly.’
But even as he analyzed her skill, he couldn’t help but smirk to himself.
’At least she fights fair. Unlike me.’
She Ming launched a fierce counterattack, combining rapid punches and swift kicks that backed Fan Lian into a corner.
With an axe kick, she struck Fan Lian on his shoulder, making the boy stumble back.
"She Ming wins!" the disciple overseeing the fight announced.
"Huh?" Fan Lian looked down and saw that he was actually out of the ring. "Dammit." He cursed, not expecting to lose in such a manner—and that too, to a girl.
Feeling quite disappointed, he walked off. Though he had lost, he had still managed to earn some points from the elder.
"Compared to that dishonorable brat, at least this one shows good promise," Elder Nie Jing muttered.
Even if Fan Lian had lost, he was still leagues ahead of Han Yu in the elder’s eyes. He even considered recommending the boy to another elder.
’Though the true talent is yet to be checked,’ the elder mused, looking forward to the upcoming match.
With the fight over, it was time for the final rounds.
Once more, there were three people left.
"We’ll be picking lots again," Elder Nie Jing announced, making the remaining disciples, including Xu Qing, approach him.
Xu Qing was trying her best to keep her cool.
’If he does something like that again, I’ll turn into a laughingstock,’ she thought, seething.
For now, though, she had to hold back and do what was necessary.
She picked out a stick from the container and looked at it. The others did the same and were surprised.
Elder Nie Jing, seeing the results, was also taken aback.
"It had to be him..." Elder Nie Jing muttered with barely concealed frustration. ’But maybe it’s for the best,’ he reconsidered, thinking of what other nefarious moves Han Yu might pull.
"She Ming and Murong Xie will be fighting next," Elder Nie Jing announced.
Hearing that, She Ming actually felt a wave of relief.
"Phew~ It’s not that evil kid," she muttered to herself.
It was one thing if Han Yu used such tricks against a male opponent, but if he pulled the same stunts against her—a girl—she wouldn’t know whether to scream in rage or bury herself in a blanket out of sheer embarrassment.
Of course, that would be after she chopped Han Yu into tiny pieces and fed him to the dogs.
The boy in question felt a strange chill, looking around warily.
’Weird,’ he thought before grinning. "Looks like my luck is holding up."
With this, he had at least secured second place in the recruitment, which was much further than he had initially expected.
He turned his attention to his potential opponents, sizing them up.
’She Ming is fast, but I can endure her attacks and use the Bolt God Fist against her. Murong Xie, though...’ Han Yu decided to watch this fight closely.
Murong Xie and She Ming entered the ring, bowing respectfully to one another.
"Murong Xie greets Young Lady She Ming," Murong Xie said with impeccable courtesy.
"She Ming also greets Young Lord Murong Xie," She Ming replied, smiling faintly. Compared to Han Yu, Murong Xie was downright charming.
"Please forgive me for my insolence," Murong Xie said as he assumed his battle stance.
"Likewise," She Ming responded, lifting her right leg while adopting a fluid, snake-like posture.
"BEGIN!" the elder ordered.
In an instant, the two clashed.
Both were fast, their movements precise. They dodged, counterattacked, and engaged in a seamless exchange of blows.
The younger disciples watching couldn’t help but be impressed.
"See? That’s how real cultivators fight," one disciple muttered, shooting a disdainful look at Han Yu.
Compared to the refined combat skills on display, Han Yu’s "creative" fighting style seemed downright criminal.
She Ming was starting to pant, beads of sweat forming on her brow.
"Young Lord Murong Xie is impressive. Your cultivation is certainly above mine," She Ming admitted, catching her breath.
"I was just lucky," Murong Xie said, flashing a modest smile.
"Young Lord surely jests," She Ming replied before launching another attack—a swift, elegant chop.
"Tch~ all a facade," Han Yu scoffed, watching the exchange as if it were some refined courtly dance instead of a fight.
He was, however, undeniably curious about their true strength.
"How strong are those two?" Han Yu asked Xu Qing, nudging her elbow.
"Hey, tell me! Tell me, please!" Han Yu whined, his persistence bordering on the pathetic.
Fearing that Han Yu might actually cling to her leg and beg, Xu Qing finally relented.
"She Ming is also at the Tenth Stage of the Body Tempering Realm," she admitted.
"She’s that strong?" Han Yu’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to be on par with the ’man-child’ Gao Ren. "And what about Murong Xie?" he asked, bracing himself.
"He’s at the Eleventh Stage of the Body Tempering Realm," Xu Qing revealed.
Han Yu nearly choked on his own spit.
"Fuck... That boy is way stronger than I thought."
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He had come into this tournament hoping to scrape by, and now he was facing monsters.
’Well... I’ve won through dirty tricks before. Time to brainstorm something truly diabolical.’
He rubbed his chin, already plotting.
Somewhere in the heavens, the gods of honorable combat wept.