Yang Jing’s steps were unsteady as he walked down from the arena. A feeling of emptiness from his depleted Inner Strength spread through his limbs, making each step feel like he was treading on cotton.

He raised a hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. His fingertips felt a warm wetness, but he calmly pulled his hand back, hiding it in his sleeve and clenching it into a fist. ’This little injury is nothing.’

Qin Yu followed close behind him off the arena, his steps steady. Though his black martial arts uniform was stained with some dust, it did nothing to diminish his upright posture.

The Silver Armor Captain stepped onto the arena, his armor glinting coldly in the sunlight. He announced loudly, "First round, second match. The winner is Qin Yu!"

As his voice fell, thunderous cheers erupted from the western stands. The disciples of Zhenwei Martial Arts Hall stood up, waving their hall’s banner and shouting.

"Senior Brother Qin is mighty!"

"Zhenwei will be victorious!"

The waves of cheers rose in succession, almost loud enough to overturn the entire training grounds.

The Hall Master of Zhenwei Martial Arts Hall stroked his beard and nodded repeatedly, his face filled with pride.

Yang Jing walked away from the arena, his gaze fixed forward, his pace unwavering. He found a corner beneath the main stage and only then sat down cross-legged.

At that moment, Lin Yue was standing below the arena, his cold gaze fixed upon him.

His usually arrogant face was now covered in a layer of frost. A clear, cold snort escaped his nostrils, not loud, but enough for those nearby to hear.

’Hmph, giving up so soon. What a disgrace to our Martial Arts Hall.’ Lin Yue thought with contempt. He turned his head, refusing to even look at Yang Jing, as if a single glance would sully his sight.

Not far away, a tall, slender, fair-skinned young man in fine clothes was watching Lin Yue. Seeing Lin Yue’s disdain for Yang Jing’s actions, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, a playful look appearing in his eyes.

Yang Jing didn’t know what Lin Yue was thinking, nor did he care.

He took out the small vial containing the Rejuvenation Pill that Liu Maolin had given him, tipped one out, and popped it into his mouth.

The moment it entered his mouth, the elixir dissolved into a sweet, warm current that slid down his throat and into his stomach.

In just a moment, the warm current spread out like a surging spring. Wherever it passed, his once-stagnant meridians seemed to clear, and his parched dantian felt as if it were being filled with fresh spring water.

He quickly closed his eyes, focusing his mind to regulate his breathing.

The Rejuvenation Pill also seemed to trigger the latent effects of the Qi Storage Pill within his body. A hot current surged through him, and a thin layer of sweat broke out on Yang Jing’s forehead.

Raging Inner Strength coursed through his body. The exhaustion from his earlier depletion visibly faded away. A pleasant warmth spread through his limbs, and every inch of his muscles and bones seemed to stretch and relax.

Yang Jing’s furrowed brow gradually relaxed, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved into a slight smile.

He could clearly feel his Inner Strength rapidly recovering, the power in his dantian growing fuller and fuller.

He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. His breath was long and steady.

’There’s still a chance,’ Yang Jing thought.

He had to get back to peak condition before his next match started.

...

「Outside the fence, in the spectator stands.」

The atmosphere in the Sun’s Martial Arts Hall section was somewhat subdued.

Sun Yong’s gaze fell on Yang Jing’s staggering figure as he left the arena. There was no blame in his eyes, but rather a trace of satisfaction.

He began to speak slowly, his voice not loud, but clear enough for every disciple to hear. "Yang Jing has already done very well."

"It’s a pity—" Beside him, Zhao Wenzheng shook his head, about to say more.

Sun Yong waved his hand, cutting him off. "In Martial Dao sparring, there will always be a difference in strength. Qin Yu’s Dark Energy has reached an extremely high level; he’s a tricky opponent even among those at the Peak of Dark Energy. The fact that Yang Jing could last so long against him and still protect himself has already far exceeded my expectations."

He paused, looking at Yang Jing’s figure meditating and healing below the arena, and continued, "Remember this: for those who practice martial arts, winning and losing are common. What’s important is to recognize the gap in strength, understand your shortcomings, and then strive to improve. Though Yang Jing was defeated today, he gave it his all and showed the spirit of our Sun’s Martial Arts Hall. That is enough."

Beside him, Sun Ningxiang also nodded in agreement. "Father is right. Junior Brother Yang has a tenacious character. Though he was injured today, he will surely achieve great things in the future."

Sun Yong gave a slight nod and said no more.

Behind Sun Yong, Liu Maolin had been clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

Just moments ago, he had watched as the force of Qin Yu’s punches forced Yang Jing to retreat again and again. The blood seeping from the wound on his arm was especially glaring in the sunlight, and his own heart had clenched in worry.

"Sigh, if I had known Qin Yu’s Dark Energy had reached such a level, Junior Brother Yang should have conceded earlier," Liu Maolin muttered under his breath, his tone filled with worry. "After all, he just broke through to the Dark Energy realm. The gap between him and a veteran master like Qin Yu is still too large. Pushing himself so hard is too damaging to his body."

Xu Hong, next to him, also sighed and shook his head. "Concede? Look at Junior Brother Yang’s personality. Does he seem like the type to give up easily? But then again, it was already quite an achievement for him to last so long against Qin Yu."

Xu Hong patted Liu Maolin’s shoulder and continued, "Fortunately, he knew when to cut his losses and didn’t force a head-on clash. That’s what you call being wise. ’As long as the green mountains are there, one need not worry about firewood.’ He learned his lesson this time. He can go back, polish his skills, and there will be plenty of opportunities in the future."

Liu Maolin nodded, his gaze falling upon Yang Jing below the arena.

...

「Inside the fence, on the main arena.」

"First round, third match! The contestant of lot ’C’, Lin Yue, winner of Arena Three, versus Li Mengchao, winner of Arena Five! Ascend the stage!"

The Silver Armor Captain’s voice echoed across the training grounds, carrying a cold, metallic quality.

The moment his voice fell, a commotion rippled through the crowd.

Two figures rose from their respective seats almost simultaneously, their gazes clashing in mid-air and creating invisible sparks.