Challenge to a duel

Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence. "Zhang Ling."

The voice came from behind Zhang Ling. He turned around to see Huang Hao and Jiang Wen, with another young man trailing behind them. This newcomer seemed about the same age as Zhang Ling, but was remarkably muscular and strong. Taking a closer look, Zhang Ling noticed Huang Hao’s face was bruised and battered.

Zhang Ling stood up and walked toward them. "What happened?" he asked.

Jiang Wen was quick to answer. "It's all Huang Hao's fault. He just had to provoke someone, said that fellow was all muscle and no skill, and ended up losing. Then he dragged me into it as well."

"You have the nerve to say that?" Huang Hao shot back, his tone wounded. "If you hadn't egged me on, would I have bothered him?"

"So?" Zhang Ling inquired.

The two exchanged guilty smiles and admitted, "So, we told him you also practice martial arts and brought him here."

Zhang Ling finally understood—he’d been sold out by his friends. His expression darkened and he scolded, "You two are truly my good brothers, aren’t you?" Inwardly, he sighed: One must tread carefully in the world—choose your friends wisely.

He looked at the newcomer, and, recalling that his own dantian had just been opened, was preparing to fight.

Suddenly, Zhang Jingqian spoke from behind, "His dantian is open—his energy is shallow, below fourth grade, but he’s definitely made it into the ranks."

At these words, the muscular youth’s heart skipped. He hadn’t expected his level to be seen through so easily, but he forced himself to stand calmly in place.

Zhang Ling stepped up to his brother. "Should I fight him?"

Zhang Jingqian replied, "You can, but you should schedule the match for three days from now."

Zhang Ling then approached the burly youth. The young man spoke first, "You’re Zhang Ling?"

Zhang Ling nodded. The youth introduced himself, "My name is Yuan Teng. I heard from those two that you’re quite the fighter, so I’ve come to learn from you."

Quite the fighter? Zhang Ling thought, these two really sold me out thoroughly.

He replied, "I wouldn't say I’m that skilled, but like you, my dantian is open."

Yuan Teng’s excitement was palpable; he immediately adopted a fighting stance.

"No, no," Zhang Ling waved him off. "I’ve just broken through and need some time to stabilize my energy. If you want a match, let’s agree to meet in three days. If that’s not acceptable, then I’ll have to decline."

"Very well, three days it is. I’ll wait for you at Yuan’s Martial Hall. If you don’t show up..." Yuan Teng glanced at Huang Hao and Jiang Wen, "I’ll know they lied to me, and I’ll show them the consequences of deceiving me."

With that, he left, while Huang Hao and Jiang Wen remained rooted to the spot.

After a long moment, they snapped out of it and offered Zhang Ling some insincere encouragement. "Zhang Ling, we believe you’ll definitely win. When the time comes, we’ll be right behind you cheering you on… or, well, egging you on!"

Zhang Ling shot them a glare and ignored them, instead turning to his brother. "Brother, do you think I can win in three days?"

Zhang Jingqian replied, "Of course not. His stance is steady and his energy is robust, while your training time is short and you’ve only just broken through. To put it plainly, under these circumstances, there are few in the world you could defeat."

Zhang Ling was puzzled. "Then why have me fight him in three days? Wouldn’t three months make more sense?"

Zhang Jingqian explained, "It’s not easy to find a good sparring partner. If you wait too long, he might not be interested. Besides, if you can master Shadow Veil in three days, you’ll have a seventy percent chance of winning."

"And if I don’t learn it?"

Zhang Jingqian joked, "If you don’t, you’ll just get beaten up a bit. It’ll be good for you, and you can always drag those two down with you."

The three fell silent.

Zhang Jingqian glanced at the sky. "That’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow."

...

Within the Zong clan’s courtyard.

Zong Chentian, bamboo switch in hand, struck repeatedly at Zhang Ling. Zhang Ling, fully tense and focused, dodged with all his might. But the difference in their abilities was obvious; no matter how he tried, he couldn’t avoid every strike.

It’s only when one is pushed to their limits that true breakthroughs are possible. For martial techniques requiring agility, relentless evasion is an effective training method. This was Zhang Jingqian’s idea for Zhang Ling, but since he couldn’t bear to do it himself, he left it to Zong Chentian.

Thus, in the Zong courtyard, a peculiar scene unfolded: one person delivering blows, another receiving them, and a third standing aside clutching his chest in mock anguish.

For three consecutive days, the mournful cries of uncle and nephew echoed from the courtyard.

After enduring these beatings, Zhang Ling’s reflexes noticeably improved, yet he still couldn’t grasp the Shadow Veil technique.

Lying on the ground, his body trembling slightly, Zhang Ling’s scars were evident the moment he removed his shirt. He’d always known martial training would be tough, but he hadn’t expected it to be so grueling and, frankly, so humiliating. It had been three months since he’d started, yet the methods only grew more bizarre and frustrating.

Seeing Zhang Ling’s battered form, Zhang Jingqian walked over to comfort him, a faint smile on his face. "Xiao Ling, are you alright?"

Zhang Ling couldn’t help but wince. What kind of comfort was this? This unreliable method had been his brother’s idea. Though he hadn’t stripped down, three days of beatings were bound to leave their mark. He couldn’t tell if his brother was being sincere or not, so he forced a bitter smile and hauled himself up. "I’m fine. But at this rate, I’ll only be a punching bag tomorrow. Sigh!"

He suddenly put on a pitiful act. Though he wasn’t sure how powerful the Profound Realm truly was, within the Luochuan Commandery it was said to be unrivaled. As long as Zhang Jingqian was around to protect him, he wouldn’t have to fight—or at least, he could delay it. After all, who enjoys a beating?

A determined yet pained look crossed Zhang Ling’s face.

Zhang Jingqian patted him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry—I’m here."

Just as Zhang Ling’s face lit up, Zhang Jingqian added, "Go ahead and fight tomorrow. With my medical skills, even if you lose a leg, as long as you’re still breathing, I’ll bring you back."

Zhang Jingqian was famed throughout Luochuan as a miraculous physician. Years ago, when several people in Luochuan Commandery were stricken with severe illness and no doctor could save them, it was this unassuming young man who healed them with a few needles. Since then, his reputation had spread far and wide. Some even claimed he could bring the dead back to life, attracting countless patients. Yet, he always managed to evade them, so his true identity remained shrouded in mystery. Though some tales were exaggerated, his medical prowess was beyond doubt.

Zhang Ling wanted to protest, but before he could speak, Zhang Jingqian had already walked away. Zhang Ling glanced at Zong Chentian—whose face was as expressionless as a coffin lid. There was no point in pleading with him either.

Zong Chentian merely cast a glance at Zhang Ling, clasped his hands behind his back, and left.

Zhang Ling sighed helplessly, his heart a tangle of emotions. He climbed onto the roof, lay back with his hands behind his head, and gazed at the star-studded night sky. Unknowingly, he drifted off to sleep.