Chapter 120: Chapter 119: Winning Streak
TAP TAP TAP!
"Zhao Xuanqi wins!"
As the sound of Zhao Xuanqi’s footsteps echoed while he descended the stairs from the Martial Arts Arena, the referee was the first to snap out of his stupor and immediately shouted the match’s result.
Some members of the audience were still excitedly chattering, thrilled they had bet on the right person and were about to make a killing. Suddenly, they noticed the silence that had fallen around them. Realizing something was off, they looked up toward the Martial Arts Arena just in time to hear the referee’s announcement. They saw Zhao Xuanqi walking down from the stage and, on the other side, Ma Zheng lying motionless below the platform, blood flowing from his nose and mouth.
"Wh-wh-what... Can someone tell me what just happened? How did the match end in the blink of an eye?!"
"He was fine one second, and the next he was just... down?! Isn’t this Ma Zheng an Inner Cultivation expert?"
"What’s going on? Even a fixed match wouldn’t be this ridiculous, right?"
"..."
The spectators who couldn’t make sense of the situation looked utterly baffled, turning to ask those around them.
"You didn’t see it? This Zhao Xuanqi is young and unknown, but who would have thought he’s the real monster here! That Ma Zheng couldn’t even take a single palm strike before being sent flying!"
"He must be using some kind of Beast Form Fist, but I’ve never heard of it. He was truly like a fierce tiger roaring through the mountains. Incredible, absolutely incredible!"
"..."
Hearing the astonished replies from those nearby, the faces of the confused spectators twitched. It was hard to tell if it was from missing the match’s incredible climax or from losing a small fortune by betting on the wrong person.
"Master!"
Ma Zheng’s young disciples stood frozen, their minds blank. After a long moment, they finally snapped out of it and rushed over to check on their master’s condition.
His entire body was wracked with vibrations, his internal organs displaced. For more than ten seconds, he struggled just to stand, needing his disciples’ support to even get to his feet. By the looks of it, while his foundation hadn’t been permanently damaged, he was definitely done fighting for the night.
Seeing their master’s condition, the young disciples turned to look at Zhao Xuanqi, who had already left the stage. The expression in their eyes was beyond mere horror.
In their minds, their master was an incredibly powerful figure, someone whose level they might never reach in their entire lives—a man they could only look up to in awe.
And yet, a young man around their own age had reduced their master to this pathetic state with a single palm strike. The contrast was simply too immense.
’Is this what Jinmen is like?’
In that moment, they truly understood the weight behind the title "Martial Arts Capital."
There was always someone stronger; there was always a heaven beyond the heavens.
"Let’s go register the win," Zhao Xuanqi said, walking over to Ge Chuanming.
"Oh, right."
Ge Chuanming, momentarily stunned, snapped to attention. He hurried toward the long table in front of the arena to register Zhao Xuanqi’s victory points. His mind was still reeling; the image of that single palm strike replayed in his head.
’Strong! Unbelievably strong!’
Even after many years working around the Martial Arts Arenas, he had rarely seen someone as young and as powerful as Zhao Xuanqi. It was an extremely rare sight.
’He’s truly worthy of being someone Boss Yan personally asked me to watch over. I’ve really struck gold this time.’
He was overjoyed. After all, the stronger Zhao Xuanqi was, the more he stood to gain. Moreover, forging a connection with such a person would be immensely beneficial to him.
Soon, Ge Chuanming finished registering the victory points with the staff and returned to Zhao Xuanqi’s side, holding the match slip.
"First, we need to go backstage and turn in the slip. We’ll have to wait until all the first-round matches are over before they assign the second-round matchups. That could take more than half an hour, so we’ll need to wait in the backstage rest area for now," Ge Chuanming explained.
Zhao Xuanqi nodded slightly and followed Ge Chuanming toward the backstage rest area.
Wherever the two went, the crowd automatically parted to create a path, not daring to block their way. Everyone, however, committed Zhao Xuanqi’s face to memory.
It was clear that when the next round of matches began, Zhao Xuanqi would be the center of attention for many spectators.
Soon, the pair returned to the backstage area of the arena. Perhaps because Zhao Xuanqi’s match had ended so quickly, the rest area was completely empty. Unconcerned, Zhao Xuanqi casually found a spot on a long bench to sit and rest.
TAP TAP TAP!
Before long, the sound of footsteps echoed from the tunnel leading into the rest area.
A group of young men walked in, surrounding another man who looked to be twenty-four or twenty-five. They all wore identical white Martial Arts Uniforms, suggesting they were disciples from the same school. On the chest of each uniform was an embroidered emblem: a design resembling a Yin Yang symbol, formed by one black and one white blade, set against a background of embroidered flames.
As the group entered the rest area, they were slightly taken aback to see Zhao Xuanqi sitting there all alone.
They didn’t pay him much mind, however, and soon walked to the other side of the room, chatting and laughing.
The young man leading them, however, briefly met Zhao Xuanqi’s gaze.
Ethereal, profound, tranquil. It was as if the man existed in a perpetual, wondrous Meditation Realm.
That was the impression Zhao Xuanqi got from the look in his eyes.
Their eyes met for only a moment before they both looked away.
However, each had committed the other to memory.
’An expert.’
Soon, Ge Chuanming returned from turning in the match slip and sat down next to Zhao Xuanqi. He was also slightly taken aback when he saw the young men on the other side of the room.
"I can’t believe he’s fighting here tonight..." Ge Chuanming muttered to himself.
"What? You recognize him?" Zhao Xuanqi asked.
"That emblem—it belongs to a major School from the three provinces of the Northern Territory. Their Secret Transmission is called the Samadhi Yin-Yang Blade. The Northern Territory is vast and borders other nations, so the power dynamics there are complicated. Some factions are so influential that even the Chengtian Army has to show them some respect. The Sanmei Sect, the one that teaches the Samadhi Yin-Yang Blade, is one of them. With the recent unrest in the Northern Territory, I’ve heard their influence has started reaching into Jinmen’s affairs. Anyone they’d send to compete here is definitely not someone to be trifled with."
"This should be his first time competing here as well. If you keep winning, there’s a good chance you’ll end up facing him," Ge Chuanming added, his expression growing grim.
’The Sanmei Sect?’
Upon hearing this, Zhao Xuanqi shot the man another look, this time with a spark of interest. He committed the name to memory.
Before long, the backstage rest area grew lively as the first round of matches began to conclude.
Then, the matchup slips for the next round were distributed. Once Ge Chuanming had theirs, he led Zhao Xuanqi to the designated arena.
Because of his dominant previous performance, Zhao Xuanqi drew the attention of numerous spectators the moment he appeared. A large crowd followed him as he made his way to the arena, creating an intimidating spectacle.
His opponent for the second match was a Cross-Training Martial Artist, significantly weaker than Ma Zheng. He had only won his first match through a stroke of luck, having been paired against a relatively weak opponent. The fight held no suspense; Zhao Xuanqi defeated him with a single move, effortlessly extending his winning streak.
The spectators who had bet on him reaped handsome rewards and were all smiles, which directly caused the Martial Arts Arena to start lowering the betting odds on Zhao Xuanqi.
After that, the third match began. This time, his opponent was a peak Cross-Training Martial Artist whose strength was quite formidable, nearly on par with the Ten Heroes of the former Yuehai Martial Arts Association. But against Zhao Xuanqi, who freely unleashed his Hundred Beasts Fist, he was still defeated in just two or three moves. The victory brought even more attention to Zhao Xuanqi.
Because the first three rounds had concluded much faster than expected, it was still early. To Ge Chuanming’s surprise, the Martial Arts Arena decided to hold a fourth round of matches that night.
"I just took a look. Among all the competing Martial Artists, only you and that man from the Sanmei Sect have three consecutive wins. This means if you participate in the fourth round, it’s almost guaranteed you’ll be matched against him."
"My advice is to stop here for tonight. After a match, we can choose whether or not to participate in the next round. We can easily avoid him; there’s no need to clash with him head-on."
Immediately after the third match ended, Ge Chuanming found Zhao Xuanqi and proposed his idea.
