The Silver Armor Captain stepped onto the fighting ring. His armor glinted coldly in the sunlight as he announced in a loud voice, "First group, second match: Li Mengchao is the victor!"

A low murmur of discussion rose from the crowd, but few were surprised by the result.

Li Mengchao’s Vajra Hand Seal was simply too overpowering; Zhou Zhiqiang’s defeat was to be expected.

The Silver Armor Captain paused, then continued, "This concludes the morning’s matches. We will now break for lunch. The competition will resume at 1:45 PM for the final ranking battles. You may all rest as you see fit during this time, but be sure to return promptly."

As his voice fell, the training ground grew lively.

The crowd in the spectator stands dispersed like a receding tide, while the Martial Artists within the enclosure began to pack their things and prepare to leave.

Yang Jing had just stepped out of the enclosure when Liu Maolin hurried over with several fellow Mingjin Disciples, unable to contain the smile on his face. "Junior Brother, let’s go! I’ll treat you to a meal!"

Yang Jing smiled and didn’t refuse. He knew the Young Hall Master could certainly afford a meal, so he thanked Liu Maolin and followed him out of the training ground.

The group went to a restaurant near the training ground with a sign that read "Ji Wu Pavilion" and found a private room to sit in.

With a grand wave of his hand, Liu Maolin ordered a table full of dishes. Most were hearty meat platters, like tiger meat stewed until tender and thick Profound Deer Soup, all made from fierce beasts to quickly replenish Qi and blood and nourish one’s Inner Strength.

"You’ve been fighting all morning, you must be hungry. Eat up." Liu Maolin ladled a bowl of deer soup for Yang Jing.

Yang Jing was indeed starving, so he didn’t stand on ceremony. He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat heartily.

The flesh of the fierce beast contained faint traces of Yuan Qi, which transformed into a warm current as it went down his throat, nourishing his depleted stamina.

The other disciples gathered around him, all talking at once as they discussed the morning’s matches.

"Senior Brother Yang, that final punch you used to defeat Xu Guangwei was awesome!"

"I don’t think Li Mengchao is all that great. If you fought him, Senior Brother, you wouldn’t necessarily lose!"

The corner of Yang Jing’s mouth twitched. He just smiled without replying and drained his bowl of deer soup.

’I know my own limits,’ he thought. ’Placing fifth is already a huge surprise.’

The other four from the first group were all stronger than him.

Yang Jing was very satisfied with his current rank. Whether or not he could make it onto the final tournament ranking list was up to fate.

He couldn’t do much more than that.

’If I really force myself to keep going, the outcome will probably be even worse than what happened to Lin Yue.’

The meal was a lively affair. An hour later, the group paid their bill and headed back to the training ground.

The training ground was much emptier now. Sunlight filtered through the sparse clouds, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow on the stone ground.

Yang Jing found a cool, shady corner to sit down, closing his eyes to rest and recover his energy.

Liu Maolin and the other junior brothers stood guard nearby, occasionally whispering a few words, afraid to disturb him.

A faint, fresh scent of grass and trees filled the air, and the distant chirping of birds gradually calmed the mind.

There was still some time before 1:45 PM. Yang Jing focused on his breathing, feeling the Inner Strength slowly recovering within him as he waited for the sound of the gong that would announce the start of the next matches.

The sun slowly began to dip toward the west.

Only an incense stick’s worth of time remained before 1:45 PM.

The spectator stands around the fighting ring were full once again. A roaring buzz of voices filled the air, thick with even greater anticipation than the morning.

The afternoon matches would decide the final rankings of this year’s tournament.

Seeing that it was almost time, Yang Jing spoke a word to Liu Maolin, straightened his lapels, took a deep breath, and strode into the enclosure.

The stone ground beneath his feet was warm from the sun, giving off a faint heat as he walked.

He glanced around. The enclosure was much less crowded than it had been in the morning. Including himself, there were only five people left: Li Mengchao, Qin Yu, Zhou Tong, Zhou Zhiqiang, and him.

It went without saying for Lin Yue, who might not have even woken from his coma yet.

Xu Guangwei and He Han hadn’t shown up either. Perhaps their injuries hadn’t healed, or perhaps it was because they had no more room to advance, being ranked sixth and seventh respectively.

In any case, with no more matches for them, they had no desire to re-enter the enclosure. The two were now sitting in a corner of the spectator stands, watching from a distance. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Zhou Tong was leaning against the fence, looking down as he exercised his right arm. The injury from his morning fight with Qin Yu clearly hadn’t fully healed, and his brow furrowed from time to time.

Zhou Zhiqiang stood on the other side. Though his face was still a bit pale, his gaze had regained its sharpness. He was staring in Li Mengchao’s direction, lost in thought.

Li Mengchao was as imperturbable as ever, sitting cross-legged in the shadows at the edge of the ring. His eyes were lightly closed, as if the surrounding commotion had nothing to do with him. Only the occasional fluctuation of his aura betrayed the profound Inner Strength contained within his body.

Qin Yu stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze slowly sweeping over the other four with a hint of scrutiny. He unconsciously rubbed his fingertips together, as if pondering his next opponent.

These were the most prominent figures of the younger generation in Yuhe County.

Any one of them was a big name in Yuhe County.

Now, after advancing through the rounds of the tournament, Yang Jing was also starting to make a name for himself in Yuhe County.

Yang Jing found a spot near a corner and stood still, his gaze falling upon the high platform next to the main fighting ring.

There, the Silver Armor Captain was bowing slightly as he spoke in low tones with the chief examiner and several other officials. The officials nodded from time to time, tapping their fingers on a roster and occasionally glancing up at the five men inside the enclosure.

Sunlight struck the glazed tiles of the high platform, reflecting a dazzling glare that made it impossible to see the expressions on their faces.

After about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the Silver Armor Captain straightened up, bowed with his hands clasped to the officials on the high platform, then turned and strode toward the main fighting ring.