In Class 6 of the second year, Jiang Yifan was regarded as the most talented student. According to Yan Hai's observation, Jiang's skin-tempering progress was already past the halfway mark. Though he still looked a little frail, his overall ability was clearly the best among these teenagers.
Du Mingxuan's talent was average, but his wealthy family ensured a steady supply of tonics and supplements. Thanks to that, his progress lagged only slightly behind Jiang's.
Yan Hai believed the two of them had the highest chance of excelling in the martial exams. Pitting them against each other would encourage healthy rivalry.
As for Yu Fei… well, though he looked physically fit, he hadn't sensed his qi and blood until recently. He hadn't even formally stepped into the martial path. Yan Hai hadn't intended to choose him.
But then—he paused.
Hm? Yu Fei seems to have entered the path.
As a third-realm martial artist, Yan Hai's perception far surpassed that of ordinary people. He could sense subtle changes in Yu Fei's skin and flesh.
Not bad. One month to entry was slow, but it still offered potential—perhaps enough to make it into a lower-tier martial university. Worth some cultivation.
Yan Hai's mind shifted. Then he laughed heartily.
"Excellent. Yu Fei, very proactive! Then you'll spar with Jiang Yifan. Let's see two little chicks pecking at each other. Once you've learned real fist techniques, you'll look back on this match with deeper understanding!"
With the candidates chosen, the class moved to the training ground.
Yu Fei's mind raced. He had been wondering how to defeat Jiang Yifan—just once—so he could use the pearl's last copy attempt. Normally, there would be no chance. Fighting without reason could get him expelled and ruin his college prospects.
He had been troubled by this, but now Teacher Yan had conveniently solved the problem for him.
Yan Hai had the two boys stand apart, placing himself between them. With a sharp downward chop of his hand, he barked:
"Begin!"
By posture alone, Yu Fei had already taken the advantage. Jiang Yifan was handsome, yes, and since beginning martial training he carried a touch of heroic spirit—but compared to Yu Fei's broad, confident stance, he fell short.
Inwardly, Jiang Yifan looked down on Yu Fei. To him, the boy was nothing beyond a good-looking shell. Mediocre grades, poor family background, and laughable martial talent. Where did that self-confidence come from?
Every time Jiang met Yu Fei's gaze, it ended with him looking away, unsettled by those deep, unfathomable eyes—as if Yu Fei could see straight through him.
In his view, someone like Yu Fei should recognize his place. A weakling should tuck his tail, not act so arrogantly.
Since taking up martial cultivation, Jiang's body had grown far stronger. At this point, he could defeat five versions of his past self with ease.
He resolved to teach Yu Fei a harsh lesson.
Yan Hai watched them square off. "Begin!"
With him observing, neither boy would come to true harm.
Jiang Yifan didn't move immediately. Instead, he crooked his finger, beckoning Yu Fei with a smirk.
Yu Fei chuckled. Still just a boy—never been beaten down by the world.
He opened the pearl's marking sight. Above Yan Hai's head shone a blue gem as well. In terms of talent, his teacher was no weaker than Jiang Yifan.
Yu Fei marked Jiang and began walking toward him. His steps were slow, deliberate, almost casual, but each one was steady and firm.
He considered his strategy. Neither of them had learned proper martial techniques yet. Any fight now was nothing more than clumsy brawling. In such cases, physical ability determined the outcome.
Jiang Yifan had entered the path earlier. His physique was significantly stronger.
So how to win? Yu Fei had only one advantage—[Super Reflexes], the talent stolen from the tabby cat. He would have to use it well.
Watching Yu Fei approach, Jiang Yifan suddenly felt nervous. But more than that, he felt excitement.
He had once been called "Bamboo Pole" for his thin frame. Yu Fei had been the class's athletic star, admired by many. Jiang had envied him, secretly.
But today, if he could pin Yu Fei down and thrash him, who would dare call him weak again?
Martial cultivation was the shortcut for geniuses like him to defy fate. Yu Fei would inevitably be left behind.
"Ahhh!" Jiang roared, charging forward. He swung his fist down with all his might, speed born of raw strength. To an ordinary opponent, the sudden lunge would be too fast to react to.
But Yu Fei was no ordinary opponent.
With his sevenfold reflexes, Jiang's attack appeared sluggish, moving through syrup. The entire world seemed trapped in slow motion, while his mind was sharp and free.
Yu Fei sidestepped lightly, raising his right elbow into the incoming path.
Crack!
Jiang's proud nose smashed directly into Yu Fei's bony elbow. In slow motion, Yu Fei watched the nose bend out of shape, Jiang's eyes watering uncontrollably.
"Ahh—ngh!"
Clutching his face, Jiang squatted down, tears streaming.
Yu Fei smiled faintly. Trigeminal reflex—the nasal-lacrimal response.
It wasn't serious. No blood, just pain. Even at entry level, Jiang's body was stronger than an ordinary human's.
"Holy crap, Jiang Yifan got hit so hard he's crying!" Lei Xiaoqiang's voice rang out.
The words stabbed into Jiang's ears. He leapt up in fury.
"Bastard!"
He told himself it had been an accident. Yu Fei had dodged, raised an elbow, and he had just been unlucky enough to run into it. But being humiliated in front of the entire class was unforgivable. Yu Fei needed to be taught a deeper lesson.
He charged again, leaping this time, snapping out a flying kick.
For a street fight, it wasn't a bad choice. But Jiang forgot how strong his body had become. The kick was too high.
It looked powerful and clean—perfect form, full of force. Against a normal opponent, it would be difficult to evade, hard even to predict the landing point.
But Yu Fei was different. With his accelerated reflexes, he had time to think of countless counters.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. He couldn't help but grin.
He stepped left, planted himself like a post, and extended his right fist forward—not striking, merely adjusting the height with precision.
[Crotch Strike]
Jiang's kick cut only air. Unable to adjust midair, he descended right onto Yu Fei's waiting fist.
Agony exploded. All strength fled his body.
The force of his own leap became his undoing, like a man landing astride a steel post. He collapsed, writhing on the ground.
The class collectively hissed through their teeth. The air grew hot and stifling.
"Tsk tsk, that's my Fei-ge! Dirty as ever!" Lei Xiaoqiang crowed. He didn't believe it was an accident. After so many years of knowing Yu Fei, he knew his brother could be vicious when he wanted to.
He almost pitied Jiang. That strike had shattered more than just his body—probably his martial heart too.
There was a reason Lei had followed Yu Fei since childhood. He'd seen it in second grade: Yu Fei chasing down and beating half a dozen kids singlehandedly.
That day had left a deep impression. Since then, Yu Fei had been his big brother. And afterward, no one dared bully him again.
On the training field, Yan Hai narrowed his eyes.
That wasn't luck. That kind of reflex… was unnatural.
Jiang lay groaning, his most vulnerable point struck. No man could endure that.
Yu Fei stole a glance inward. The Fate-Reversing Pearl pulsed—talent copied, complete.
Smiling, he stepped forward, offering a hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Are you okay?"
"Get lost!"