"Ling Chen, is Xiao Yin alright?" Shangguan Hong and the others from the Divine Intent Sect anxiously asked. It was fine to lose a contest, but it would be unbearable if anything happened to her.
Ling Chen settled Ling Yin into a seat, allowing her to lie on her side. "She's fine, just overly exhausted. She just needs to rest for a while," he said.
He hadn't expected Ling Yin's desire to win to be so strong that she would resort to tactics that inflicted as much damage on herself as on her opponent.
At this moment, Ling Yin, who had been unconscious, began to stir.
"Brother Ling Chen, I lost." Ling Yin looked a bit disheartened.
"Silly girl, you were fantastic."
Ling Chen patted her hair. "Leave the rest to me."
Given Ling Yin's potential, even if she couldn't succeed in this Martial World Conference, there was always the next. At a future conference, she was bound to enter the Martial Arts Monument. So, there was no need to rush.
