「Yuhe County, Xicheng District, Chengping Square.」

Twilight, like a thin veil of gauze, gently shrouded the upturned eaves of Sun’s Martial Arts Hall.

By the time Sun Yong and his party stepped onto the flagstone path and walked through the main gate of the Martial Arts Hall, the lanterns in the front courtyard were already lit.

In the dim yellow light, several servant disciples tidying up weapons and equipment saw the group return. They all stopped their work and lowered their heads respectfully. "Hall Master."

Sun Yong grunted, glanced at Yang Jing beside him, and then led the way toward the inner courtyard.

Once Sun Yong was gone, the disciples breathed a collective sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.

A few Mingjin Disciples prepared to leave, making a point to say a word to Yang Jing before they went.

Yang Jing responded to each with a smile and a nod. He noticed that these fellow disciples, who in the past would have offered little more than a nod upon meeting, now looked at him with a newfound reverence. They even subconsciously gave him a wider berth as they walked, as if he possessed an invisible aura.

After the other disciples left, Liu Maolin leaned in and whispered, "See that? That’s what it means to be number one!"

Yang Jing pursed his lips and glanced up at the sky. The deep blue night was already dotted with a few scattered stars, and a faint glow emanated from the direction of the inner courtyard.

At some point, Lin Yue had already left. Curiously, Qi Yun and Zhao Wenzheng, who were usually quite close with him, hadn’t gone. Instead, the two were huddled with First Senior Brother Xu Hong, speaking in low tones and pantomiming martial stances. They were clearly still discussing the outcome of the day’s competition.

"Senior Brother, I’m going to see Master now," Yang Jing said, turning to Liu Maolin.

Liu Maolin waved a hand. "Go on. Master surely has something good in store for you."

Yang Jing acknowledged with a nod and headed toward the inner courtyard.

The flagstones underfoot were damp with evening dew, feeling slightly cool as he walked.

The inner courtyard served as Master Sun Yong’s private residence and place for meditation. Ordinary disciples were forbidden from approaching unless they were summoned.

However, Yang Jing was now a Core Disciple, so he could enter and exit the inner courtyard at will to find Master Sun Yong. Besides, just that afternoon, his master had specifically instructed him to come to the inner courtyard that evening.

He passed through a Moon Gate with carved wooden railings. A few banana trees swayed gently in the night wind, and a stone lantern in the corner cast a soft halo of light. Projected onto the paper window of the study directly ahead was the silhouette of a seated figure.

Yang Jing composed himself, straightened his robes, and walked toward the study.

...

「Meanwhile, in the front courtyard.」

Xu Hong watched as Yang Jing’s figure disappeared through the Moon Gate into the inner courtyard, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.

The evening breeze carried the chill of early autumn as it rustled his robes, and he subconsciously pulled his sleeves tighter.

Liu Maolin came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "What’s wrong, First Senior Brother?"

Xu Hong shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the stone locks that still needed to be cleared from the training ground. His voice was tinged with melancholy and wistfulness. "It’s nothing. I was just thinking... time passes so quickly."

He couldn’t remember what it was like when Yang Jing joined the hall—after all, he hadn’t paid much attention at the time—but he knew it had been sometime last year.

But he remembered the day Lin Yue joined with perfect clarity.

In less than a year, both of these junior brothers had fought their way through the competition and seized first place in their respective rings.

"A new generation always rises to replace the old..."

Xu Hong murmured, his voice full of an indescribable sense of lament.

He was already twenty-nine. For a Martial Artist, that was barely within the age of peak vitality, yet he could clearly feel his training becoming more and more difficult over the past two years.

The last time he’d tried to force a breakthrough to the next stage, he had ultimately failed to shatter his bottleneck. He was just stuck, his internal energy surging so violently that he’d nearly lost control completely.

Liu Maolin seemed to read his mind and sighed. "First Senior Brother, don’t take it so hard. Lin Yue and Yang Jing are exceptionally gifted. Besides, luck played a huge part in this competition. You just weren’t lucky..."

"Luck?" Xu Hong gave a bitter smile.

Maybe luck was a small part of it. But watching his junior brothers, a decade younger than him, make names for themselves one by one while he was still stuck in place... The feeling was like a bone stuck in his throat.

He remembered his master once saying that a Martial Artist’s golden years only last for a little over a decade. After thirty, their vitality begins to slowly wane.

’I have one year left. No, maybe not even that long.’

’After failing this year, it’ll be even harder to pass the competition in the future.’

In the front courtyard, several servant disciples were tidying up equipment, chattering away as they discussed the news about the competition they had gleaned from the Mingjin Disciples.

Their words were filled with envy and admiration for Lin Yue and Yang Jing, the two disciples who had taken first place in their respective rings.

Hearing their chatter, Xu Hong felt a pang in his chest.

There was a time when he had been the one these disciples looked up to.

When he first joined the Martial Arts Hall, he was found to have above-average aptitude. Back then, the look in his master’s eyes had been full of expectation.

But now, that expectation seemed to be gradually shifting to others.

Lin Yue’s star already shone so brightly, and now with Yang Jing rising as well, they were like two novae that made an "old star" like him appear dim by comparison.

He suddenly recalled the first time his master had summoned him to the inner courtyard. Back then, his heart had been filled with lofty ambitions.

"Junior Liu, want to go for a drink?" Xu Hong asked.

Perhaps it was because he had failed the competition yet again.

Or perhaps it was the sinking feeling that his journey on the Martial Dao was ending here—that his vitality was beginning its decline and passing the competition was now all but hopeless.

He felt a great many things today. A bittersweet melancholy lingered in his heart, impossible to shake, and all at once, he was struck by the urge to go for a drink.