24: Chapter 24 Good people don't necessarily get good rewards

The stage for the Inner Sect assessment was set right in the center of the Martial Arts Arena, three zhang square, paved with bluestone, and surrounded by formation runes.

The function of the formation runes was to prevent spiritual power from overflowing and injuring the watching Disciples, not to protect the two people on the stage.

The rules of the Qingyun Sect had always been like this.

You could be beaten to death on the stage, but breaking the flowers and plants wouldn't be good.

Xie Feng did not make a move in the first three rounds.

It wasn't that he didn't want to make a move; it was that his opponents didn't give him the opportunity to do so.

His opponent in the first round was an Outer Sect Disciple at the Second Realm, Second Heaven. When he drew Xie Feng in the drawing, his expression changed.

He stood on the stage, watching Xie Feng hold a blind cane in his left hand, his face covered by hanging gauze, walking up step by step. The sound of the blind cane tapping the ground came one after another with an even rhythm.

The opponent surrendered faster than him.

"Damn it, I'll surrender the next time I go on stage."

The opponent in the second round knelt even faster.

As soon as the drawing results came out, he simply didn't go on stage.

"With this kind of guts, you still want to enter the Sect? You still come to learn how to deal with anomalies? You guys are even worse than I was a year ago."

Xie Feng sat in the waiting area by the edge of the stage, his blind cane laid horizontally across his knees, fiercely pounding the floor. Tu Ziguan squatted next to him, eating a sesame flatbread while giving him a live broadcast.

"The opponent from the first round went back and drank with people. He got drunk and said that he saw light leaking from under your hanging gauze while standing off the stage."

"The opponent from the second round was even more absurd, saying that when you passed by him, he heard something laughing in your eye sockets."

"There is a Charlie Chaplin in my eye sockets," Xie Feng said.

"That's very humorous."

Tu Ziguan took a bite of the sesame flatbread.

"Today morning, the opponent from the third round withdrew from the match. The reason is a stomachache—a Cultivator at the Second Realm, Third Heaven, has a stomachache."

"What the hell? Then who am I fighting? Why is everyone rolling so hard?"

The blind cane lay horizontally across Xie Feng's knees, and the iron sheet at the end of the cane reflected the sunlight of the Martial Arts Arena.

When Xie Feng entered the top eight, Tu Ziguan calculated an account off the stage.

"Brother Feng, you haven't made a move for three rounds, saving about sixty percent of your Spiritual Qi in total. Other contestants fought at least two hard battles to reach the top eight. You didn't fight a single match."

He broke the sesame flatbread into two halves and handed one half to Xie Feng.

"The saved Spiritual Qi is enough for you to go all out in every subsequent match."

Xie Feng took the sesame flatbread and stuffed it into his mouth from under the hanging gauze.

He had saved a lot of Spiritual Qi, but he didn't know whether to be happy or alert.

Rumors were a double-edged sword; they scared away his opponents in the first three rounds, and they were also spreading more and more fiercely off the stage.

Everyone who surrendered without a fight was adding fuel to the fire for the rumors.

For the top-eight draw, Xie Feng drew the seventh match.

Tu Ziguan looked at the match-up table for him. "Second Realm, Eighth Heaven, a veteran Outer Sect Disciple named Han Qing. He has entered the Outer Sect for six years, participated in three Inner Sect assessments, and his best result was the top thirty-two."

There was a hint of rare solemnity in Tu Ziguan's voice.

"This person is neither a Prodigy nor a Genius; he has ground it out. He is twenty-eight years old this year. If he still can't enter the Inner Sect this session, according to the rules of the Qingyun Sect, Outer Sect Disciples over twenty-five years old are no longer allowed to participate in the Inner Sect assessment."

"This is his last chance."

Xie Feng picked up the blind cane from his knees and held it in his hand. "Will he fight seriously?"

"He will beat you to death," Tu Ziguan said.

When Han Qing walked onto the stage, Xie Feng was already standing in the center of the stage.

Han Qing's footsteps were very heavy; his heels touched the ground first, then his forefeet, and then his toes.

Xie Feng stood firm on the other side of the stage.

The two stood facing each other across the three-zhang bluestone surface.

"Xie Feng." Han Qing spoke, his voice not loud, carrying a bit of hoarseness. "I know your rumors."

"I don't believe them," Han Qing said.

Alright, he has some backbone, Xie Feng thought to himself.

Xie Feng heard Han Qing's Spiritual Qi start to circulate. Second Realm, Eighth Heaven; the amount of Spiritual Qi was higher than his by a full seven minor Realms.

Han Qing's voice was plain and steady, as if he were talking about someone else's business.

"This year is the fourth session. I am twenty-eight. If I lose this match, there will be no fifth session."

He assumed a stance, without any weapon or Magic Treasure.

His fists were one in front of the other. The spiritual light condensed on his fists was earth-yellow, coarse, and looked like the skin of sandstone.

Xie Feng's hand holding the blind cane tightened slightly.

"Finally, there's a bit of that immortal cultivation Sect vibe. Come on, let me experience it!"

The three-layer spiritual net of the Twining Strength opened silently, covering his whole body. His right index finger was slightly curved, and the Spiritual Qi of the Mirror-Breaking Finger condensed at his fingertips.

Han Qing moved.

His whole person rolled toward Xie Feng like a moving earthen wall. His right fist was in front, his left fist protected his jaw, and his steps were short and dense, with every step stepping on the bluestone surface of the stage and producing a dull rumble.

All the Spiritual Qi was condensed on that punch without any flashy tricks.

The fist edge hadn't arrived yet, but the fist wind arrived first.

The outermost spiritual net of the Twining Strength was pressed inward by the fist wind, and Xie Feng could feel that every thread of the spiritual net was tightening.

The blind cane tapped the ground, and his figure turned sideways.

His left hand released the blind cane, letting it fall naturally. The moment the blind cane hit the ground, his right index finger had already poked out.

"Didn't expect that, did you! I don't use a stick!"

The third layer of the Mirror-Breaking Finger: Spiritual Qi was condensed at the fingertips to break a surface with a single point. The finger force left the body and collided with Han Qing's fist edge.

It sounded like the dull thud of a blunt weapon hitting a sandbag.

The earth-yellow spiritual light on Han Qing's fist edge vibrated violently, and more than a dozen fine cracks burst open on the surface. Unfortunately, it didn't have much effect, and it recovered in the next instant.

"Web novels still lie after all. Didn't it say pretend to be a pig to eat the tiger?" Xie Feng sensed Han Qing's Spiritual Qi recovering. "Why is this guy completely fine?"

The second punch arrived.

The left fist pierced through from the side; the target was not Xie Feng's head, but his left shoulder.

Xie Feng had just poked out the Mirror-Breaking Finger with his right hand, his center of gravity was on the right side, and his left shoulder was wide open.

The outermost spiritual net was pierced through by the fist force, and the fist edge slammed into the middle layer. The middle layer dented violently, and the threads stretched to their limit.

He used the force of this punch to slide three steps to the right. Hooking with his toes, the blind cane bounced up from the ground and fell back into his left hand.

"Your finger force is very strong."

Han Qing did not pursue. He stood in place and withdrew his left fist.

"Among those at the Second Realm, First Heaven, you are the first one who can crack my fist edge. But your total amount of Spiritual Qi is not enough. For the Spiritual Qi of the Second Realm, First Heaven, executing four finger strikes is the limit. I've counted."

"Good job, mathematics scholar."

Xie Feng retorted.

Right now, he could poke out at most three more finger strikes. After three strikes, his Spiritual Qi would be exhausted, the Twining Strength couldn't be sustained, and he would only have a blind cane left.

"I want to surrender, but it would be a huge loss not to try when there's a good opportunity. Let's fight a match and try. If it doesn't work, I'll just surrender and treat it as gaining experience."

Thinking this, Xie Feng rushed forward.

During their sparring, Xie Feng mainly circled around and persisted for a full quarter of an hour.

Fighting until the end, with his Spiritual Qi exhausted, Xie Feng prepared to surrender.

As a result, Han Qing did one thing.

He raised his right hand and reached out toward Xie Feng's hanging gauze.

He wanted to prove that there was nothing in Xie Feng's eye sockets—no anomalies, no light, only two hollow, blind eye sockets.

This was good intentions, meant to show respect for Xie Feng, let the rumors collapse on their own, and help Xie Feng out.

Unfortunately, by the time Xie Feng sensed it, he no longer had any Spiritual Qi to dodge.

"Don't, don't, don't! Damn it!"

Xie Feng really thanked his third maternal uncle's grandpa.

The moment his fingers touched the hanging gauze, Han Qing's movements stopped.

His fingers stopped on the surface of the hanging gauze, as if glued by something.

His fingers maintained the posture of touching the hanging gauze, the fingertips sinking into the dark gray thin gauze, his knuckles slightly curved, and then his entire arm began to tremble.

The magnitude of the tremor grew larger and larger, as if something was drilling into his arm along his fingertips touching the hanging gauze, spreading upward along the Meridians.

Han Qing collapsed onto the stage, facing the sky, his eyes rolling back, and white foam overflowing from the corners of his mouth.

"What the heck! Don't you know that good people don't get good rewards!?"

Xie Feng immediately leaned down to check Han Qing's status.

Someone stood up, shouting "Physician" and running toward the stage.

At the highest point of the spectator stands, in that outermost position.

Pu Huai was standing there.

Xie Feng picked up the blind cane from the ground. The iron sheet at the end of the cane was stained with a bit of dust kicked up when Han Qing fell.

Tu Ziguan squeezed through the crowd and ran onto the stage, his voice lowered to the extreme.

"Brother Feng, he?"

"He's not dead," Xie Feng said. "Once the physician carries him down and feeds him two doses of calming soup, he'll wake up tomorrow."

The blind cane tapped the ground, and he turned around and walked down the stage.

On the spectator stands, that gray-robed figure had already disappeared.