9: Chapter 9 Helper

After three months of hard training, he had brought his Great Strength Fist to Minor Achievement, with strength approaching two hundred catties.

Among the younger generation of the Martial Arts Team, besides Lin Jing, he was the strongest.

Opposite him, the black-faced youth from Wang Family Village held a hunting fork, grinning to reveal a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"From Lin Family Village? I heard your Martial Arts Team has some substance." The black-faced youth weighed the hunting fork in his hand. "Let me see it for myself."

"You're courting death!" Lin Hu let out a low roar and charged forward.

Mountain-Opening Fist, opening stance!

The wooden staff thrust out like a spear, its pointed tip aiming straight for his opponent. This strike was heavy and powerful, carrying a whistling wind.

The black-faced youth neither dodged nor retreated; he held the hunting fork horizontally, catching the staff with a loud "clang." Sparks flew.

The two retreated half a step simultaneously, then lunged again.

Lin Hu's staff technique was open and expansive, all following the style of the Mountain-Opening Fist. Slashing, sweeping, smashing, thrusting—every strike used his full strength.

He fought fiercely, wanting to end the battle quickly.

But the black-faced youth's hunting fork was exceptionally agile.

The prongs flickered, sometimes like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, sometimes like a fierce tiger pouncing on its prey.

He did not meet Lin Hu's heavy blows head-on but used finesse to break his strength, focusing on the flaws in Lin Hu's transitions between Moves.

Ten Moves, twenty Moves...

Lin Hu became increasingly anxious as he fought.

He could feel that his opponent's strength was no weaker than his own, but his Moves were more refined.

Every time he struck with full force, it was nimbly neutralized by his opponent, leaving him exposed instead.

On the thirty-fourth Move, Lin Hu swept his staff horizontally with the force of a thunderbolt.

The black-faced youth suddenly crouched, the hunting fork sweeping up from bottom to top, thrusting straight at Lin Hu's ribs.

Lin Hu was shocked and hurriedly pulled back his staff to block, but he was a split second too slow.

"Rip."

The tip of the hunting fork tore through his clothes, leaving a bloody gash on his ribs.

It wasn't deep, but it stung fiercely.

Lin Hu let out a muffled groan, his movements momentarily faltering.

The black-faced youth seized the opportunity, his hunting fork like a poisonous dragon emerging from a cave, thrusting straight at his throat!

"Stop!" Village Head Lin Tieshan shouted sharply.

The hunting fork stopped three inches before his throat.

The black-faced youth grinned and retracted the hunting fork: "I concede the point."

Lin Hu's face was pale, his hand gripping the wooden staff trembling slightly. He had lost, and he had lost thoroughly.

If it weren't for the opponent showing mercy, that strike would have claimed his life.

"How could this be..."

There was an uproar from the Lin Family Village side.

Lin Hu was the best fighter in the Martial Arts Team after Lin Jing; how could he have lost so decisively?

"What's the background of that black-faced kid?"

"Since when did Wang Family Village have such a formidable young man?"

Lin Dashan's face was gloomy.

He saw clearly that the black-faced youth's strength was indeed above Lin Hu's; not only was his strength not weak, but his Moves were more refined and his combat experience was richer.

Lin Hu walked back, head lowered: "Village Head, I'm sorry, I..."

"It's not your fault." Lin Dashan waved his hand. "The opponent is stronger."

His gaze swept over the few youths from Wang Family Village across the way, finally landing on a lean, sharp-eyed youth.

That person had been standing behind Village Head Wang Laosuan the whole time, arms crossed, expressionless.

It must be him.

Lin Dashan turned his head to look at Lin Jing:

"Jing'er, you go up for the next round."

Lin Jing nodded without speaking, simply drawing a long sword from her waist.

The sword was an ordinary iron sword, its blade gleaming coldly.

She walked toward the field, her steps steady.

Opposite her, a second youth walked out from Wang Family Village. This person wielded a pair of short knives; he was not tall, but his eyes were as fierce as a wolf's.

The two stood three zhang apart.

"Start!"

Lin Jing moved.

She didn't charge recklessly like Lin Hu but approached slowly, her long sword pointing diagonally at the ground.

When she reached a distance of one zhang, she suddenly accelerated!

The sword light was like lightning, thrusting straight at her opponent's throat.

The short-knife youth crossed his blades to block the long sword. With a "clang," sparks flew.

Lin Jing flicked her wrist, the blade sliding past the knife edge, changing from a thrust to a slice, aiming for her opponent's wrist.

The short-knife youth retreated half a step, his right-hand knife sweeping up in a counter-attack, while his left-hand knife thrust straight at Lin Jing's lower abdomen.

The Moves were vicious, combining offense and defense.

Lin Jing's expression remained unchanged, her footwork shifting, her figure like the wind. In her hands, the long sword transformed into a sheet of silver light, sometimes like a torrential downpour, sometimes like a gentle drizzle.

She integrated the power-generating techniques of the Mountain-Opening Fist into her swordsmanship, each sword strike carrying heavy force.

But she also added her own understanding—the sword should be light and agile, winning through finesse.

After twenty Moves, the short-knife youth gradually faltered.

Lin Jing's sword was too fast, too tricky.

Although his dual knives were fierce, they were always a beat slow.

On the thirty-first Move, Lin Jing thrust her sword through his left shoulder; although it didn't injure any tendons or bones, the outcome was decided.

"Stop!" Village Head Wang Laosuan said in a deep voice.

Lin Jing retracted her sword, stepped back three paces, and cupped her hands: "I concede the point."

The short-knife youth clutched his shoulder, his face livid as he retreated to his side.

"We won!"

"Sister Jing is amazing!"

The Lin Family Village side erupted in cheers.

Lin Dashan also showed a hint of a smile. This girl, Lin Jing, truly hadn't disappointed him.

The Wang Family Village side, however, was in an uproar.

"What's going on? Er Gouzi lost too?"

"That girl is that strong?"

Village Head Wang Laosuan's face was gloomy. He stared at Lin Jing for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

"Lin Dashan, how about we change the rules?"

Lin Dashan frowned: "Change what?"

"Still best of three." Village Head Wang Laosuan said slowly, "However... the winner can continue to fight. How about it?"

Lin Dashan was stunned.

The winner continues to fight?

This rule... was obviously favorable to Lin Family Village!

Lin Jing had already won one round. If she could continue to fight in the third round, with her strength, her chances of winning were extremely high.

And if the original rules were followed, Lin Jing couldn't fight again, and they would have to send someone else for the third round, making the outcome uncertain.

This old fox, Village Head Wang Laosuan, why would he propose such a disadvantageous condition for himself?

Lin Dashan felt wary, but he really couldn't think of any traps.

He looked at Lin Jing, then at the other youths behind him, and finally nodded:

"Fine! The winner continues to fight, I agree!"

He turned to Lin Jing: "Jing'er, continue for the third round, you must win!"

Lin Jing nodded: "Yes, Village Head."

The cheers from the Lin Family Village side became even louder.

"Sister Jing is fighting consecutively, she's sure to win!"

"Wang Family Village is seeking their own destruction!"

"Did Village Head Wang Laosuan lose his mind?"

Everyone was discussing, all feeling that victory was in sight.

Only Lin Tian stood in the crowd, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter.

Something was wrong.

An old fox like Village Head Wang Laosuan would never do a losing business. If he dared to propose this rule, he must have a backup plan.

What is it?

Lin Tian's gaze was locked on the short-haired youth beside Village Head Wang Laosuan.

From beginning to end, that person had been resting with his eyes closed, indifferent to the battle in the field.

It wasn't until this moment, when Village Head Wang Laosuan turned and said something to him, that he slowly opened his eyes.

What kind of eyes were those?

Cold, indifferent, without any emotion, as if looking at a group of ants.

The short-haired youth stepped out of the formation.

He was in his early twenties, with a well-proportioned build, neither tall nor short, wearing ordinary coarse cloth short-sleeved clothes.

But his steps were steady when he walked, each step as if measured, without the slightest error.

Lin Jing gripped her long sword tightly, her expression solemn.

She could feel that this person... was different.

"Start."

Before the words died away, Lin Jing moved.

She learned her lesson and didn't test him anymore; her first Move was a killing blow—the sharpest Move in the Kaishan Sword Technique, "Stone-Splitting, Cloud-Piercing."

The sword light was like lightning, thrusting straight at his heart.

The short-haired youth neither dodged nor retreated; it wasn't until the tip of the sword was only half a foot from his chest that he suddenly raised his hand.

It wasn't a block, and it wasn't a dodge.

Instead, he slapped out with one palm.

The palm wind was soft, like willow catkins drifting.

But that light palm, slapping onto the sword blade, actually made Lin Jing feel a yin-soft force coming through, and her long sword uncontrollably veered to the side.

Lin Jing's heart skipped a beat, and she hurriedly changed her Move, sweeping the sword horizontally. The short-haired youth slapped out with his palm again, the palm force like cotton and silk, sticking to the sword blade and pulling it gently.

Lin Jing only felt the force on her sword being completely dissipated, and her entire body was pulled into a stagger.

She hurriedly retreated, protecting herself with her long sword.

But the short-haired youth had already pressed in close, his palms fluttering, palm shadows everywhere.

That palm technique was extremely strange. It wasn't hard or fierce, but yin-soft and dense.

Every palm strike carried a rotating force, completely suppressing Lin Jing's Kaishan Sword Technique.

Mountain-Opening Fist emphasizes hardness and dominance, overpowering everything with sheer force. But in front of this yin-soft palm technique, it was like punching cotton; she had strength but couldn't use it.

Twenty Moves, and Lin Jing's forehead was sweating.

Thirty Moves, and her swordsmanship was already in disarray.

On the forty-second Move, the short-haired youth slapped his palm onto the spine of her sword. The yin-soft force penetrated the sword, shaking Lin Jing so hard that the webbing between her thumb and index finger split, and the long sword flew out of her hand.

Immediately following, the second palm landed lightly on her chest.

"Pfft—"

Lin Jing spat out a mouthful of blood, staggered back seven or eight steps, and sat down on the ground.

She lost.

The whole field was deathly silent.

"Sister Jing!"

"How could this be..."

The crowd from Lin Family Village was dumbfounded, unable to believe the scene before their eyes.

Lin Jing, the strongest young person in the Martial Arts Team, had lost so decisively?

Lin Dashan's face was pale. He stared fixedly at that short-haired youth and suddenly roared:

"The martial arts he used are not from your Wang Family Village! He is not from Wang Family Village!"

Village Head Wang Laosuan laughed, laughing recklessly:

"That's right, he is indeed not from Wang Family Village."

He paused, enunciating each word:

"This is an expert I spent a large sum of money to invite from Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall."

"You cheated!" Lin Dashan's eyes were splitting with anger.

"Cheated?" Village Head Wang Laosuan sneered. "Which rule says you can't invite outside help? When we set the rules earlier, we didn't say only people from our own village could fight."

Lin Dashan was shaking with anger, a mouthful of blood surging to his throat, which he swallowed back forcibly.

The crowd from Lin Family Village also had red eyes, their fists clenched until they cracked.

A few hot-headed young men had already grabbed their weapons, ready to rush up and fight for their lives.

"What? Can't afford to lose?" Village Head Wang Laosuan scanned the crowd coldly. "Want to fight? Sure. But I want to remind you, this person beside me is an official Disciple of Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall, a First-Rank Martial Artist. If we really start fighting, how many people from your Lin Family Village will die?"

These words were like cold water poured over their heads.

Qingfeng Martial Arts Hall!

That was one of the three great martial arts halls in Heishan City; the Hall Master was a Rank 3 Martial Artist, and every Disciple under him was powerful.

Even if Village Head Lin Tieshan and Lin Bao joined forces, they might not be this short-haired youth's match.

Village Head Wang Laosuan watched the crowd from Lin Family Village, who were angry but dared not speak, and smiled with satisfaction:

"How about this, I'll give you a chance."

He pointed at the short-haired youth:

"As long as one young person from your Lin Family Village can defeat him, we'll consider our Wang Family Village to have lost. The water source will be yours."

He paused, his smile mocking:

"How about it? Do you dare?"