The chief furrowed his brow. "What happened?"
Sun Shi scratched the back of his neck, smiling nervously. "I… punched it."
There was a pause. Then, in perfect unison, the chief and all the instructors shouted, "No way!"
As the instructors launched into a full-blown lecture aimed at Sun Shi, the chief's thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Could this boy… really be the one? No. Not yet. But this… this might just be the beginning of something new for us all.
The day of the tournament had arrived.
All four sects—including the long-forgotten Shaolin Sect—had agreed to meet at Mt. Wuhuai, a sacred ground nestled in the heart of the valley. It was tradition, a place once chosen by ancient masters, now reborn as the battleground for the new generation.
As the disciples of each sect gathered beneath the mountain's towering cliffs, the atmosphere turned heavy. The chiefs of the three higher sects couldn't hide their contempt. With sneers on their faces, they looked upon the Shaolin disciples—clothed in ragged uniforms, humble in posture—and chuckled.
"Did they crawl out from the mountains just to embarrass themselves?" one chief scoffed.
Even the students joined in, laughing among themselves, pointing at the worn-out sandals and faded sashes the Shaolin carried like battle scars.
The announcer stepped forward, voice booming across the clearing. "The first round will begin shortly! First match: Wen Tao of the Divine Palm Sect versus Lan Mei of the Falling Lotus Sect!"
A murmur ran through the crowd.
"And following them—Sun Shi of the Shaolin Sect versus Huo Zhen of the Iron Knuckle Sect!"
Huo Zhen—bald, broad, and with a jagged scar across his cheek—grinned as he locked eyes with Sun Shi.
"Hah. They're letting beggars fight now?" he barked.
Wen Tao, standing beside him, flicked his long hair back and smirked. "Try not to trip over your own sandals, monk."
Sun Shi said nothing. He didn't need to.
Beside them, Lan Mei stood silently. Her hair was white as snow, her expression unreadable. Though she said nothing, there was an unmistakable grace in her bearing—like falling petals in a silent storm.
The First Match: Wen Tao vs. Lan Mei
With a shout, Wen Tao charged. "Fifth Divine Palm Form: Palm Spear!"
His movement was sharp, his stance tight. As his palm lunged forward, a streak of chi followed. Sun Shi's eyes narrowed.
That form… it's familiar. That stance—it's Kokondo Karate.
A feint, cleverly masked. But unmistakable.
Lan Mei pivoted gracefully. "First Petal Form: Petal Flow."
In one fluid motion, she redirected Wen Tao's attack and sent him sprawling to the ground.
Sun Shi leaned forward slightly, intrigued. That movement… early Aikido. He was impressed by the foundation, but disappointed by the lack of refinement.
Wen Tao snarled, climbing back up. "Third Divine Palm: Double Chi Palm!"
Twin blasts of energy surged from his palms—but Lan Mei, calm as ever, countered once again with Petal Flow, planting him back into the dirt.
Fury sparked in Wen Tao's eyes. "You'll regret that…"
He raised his hands, drawing from a deeper well of chi.
"Eighth Divine Palm: Palm of Judgment!"
A massive chi construct shaped like a divine palm erupted from his hand, barreling toward Lan Mei with crushing force.
But Lan Mei was already moving. "Second Petal Form: Lotus Surge."
Petals of energy whirled around her as she vanished in a blink, appearing directly in front of Wen Tao. Before he could react—
"First Petal: Petal Flow."
Her strike landed clean, launching Wen Tao across the stage. He crashed into the earth, unmoving.
"Winner: Lan Mei of the Falling Lotus Sect!"