Chapter One Hundred and Two: An Overnight Sensation

He moved with incredible speed, forcing me to adopt a defensive stance, though I didn't draw Snowblade. In a flash, his fierce long knife was already at my face. I easily sidestepped, seizing the opportunity to land a punch. He created distance between us again, then launched another attack. I swiftly drew Snowblade, but did not summon the blade—just held it like a white rod as we fought.

The others watched, puzzled why my weapon appeared to be nothing more than a short stick. Yet I wielded it with agility, my footsteps nimble and my experience evident, pushing him back step by step. Each time I struck him, applause erupted from the sidelines. Though Zhang Shun’s expression remained unchanged, I guessed he must deeply resent me. Before my arrival, he was the leader among the disciples; now, with me here, he was forced to step aside. Anyone in his place would feel disgruntled.

I struck him several times, moving with effortless composure. The applause inside drew people from outside, until the doorway was crowded. But in a moment of distraction, he managed to land a kick, forcing me back several steps. Shaking my head with resignation, I decided to end the fight quickly.

I channeled powerful spiritual energy within me and infused it into Snowblade. Instantly, the blade materialized, and the surrounding temperature plunged rapidly. The students around gasped, not only envying me but also coveting Snowblade in my hand.

“What kind of weapon is that? It’s incredible!”

“I heard from the teacher—it’s apparently a spiritual weapon, the king of all arms.”

“Damn, that’s awesome! Lin Yao really surprised us this time.”

I felt increasingly fused with Snowblade; only with it could I unleash my full strength. My entire aura shifted, the short robe I wore fluttering in the sudden chill. I pushed off the wall with my back foot, lunging toward Zhang Shun in a diving posture.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to evade, determined to take my blow head-on. In a clash of steel and will, his weapon proved sturdy—it did not break under Snowblade's strike. Having blocked my attack, his confidence soared, and he slashed again.

I swung my blade with one hand, executing the Shadow Wing technique, while my other hand quickly formed the Lightning Command seal. As I finished the first form of the Shadow Wing style, I flipped backward and called out—

“Lightning Command!”

As my words faded, a streak of blue lightning shot from my fingers, striking Zhang Shun directly. He tried to block, but was blasted far across the room, landing sprawled on the ground.

I smiled faintly, retracted Snowblade into my ring, and walked to the crowd to sit and rest. Seeing my strength, everyone parted to give me space, their faces filled with astonishment. Even the teacher coughed awkwardly and said,

“Next group!”

...

The tedious battles dragged on all afternoon, ending only as dusk fell. Night was creeping in when the teacher announced, “Today’s lessons are over. Those who won their duels may take tomorrow off.” Hearing this, I joined the other disciples as we left. Having skipped lunch, I headed straight for the dining hall.

It was crowded, but there were still empty tables. I grabbed a simple meal and ate in a corner. After today's battle, not only the core disciples knew me, but even the inner disciples had heard my name. Wherever I went now, I attracted attention, though I didn’t want to stand out so much. My purpose here was to obtain a treasure, and being so conspicuous would make things harder. Still, things were as they were, and I’d have to take it one step at a time.

After eating, I returned to my dormitory. The old lady downstairs was still there; she made no comment, simply waved me in. I went straight up to the fifth floor, opened the door with my room card, and sank into the sofa.

Technically, smoking wasn’t allowed on Tianyang Mountain, but the rule was only enforced for those who weren’t core disciples. I took out a cigarette I’d prepared in advance and lit it. Smoking, I reflected: it was my first day here, and I still hadn’t learned anything about the treasure. I’d have to make inquiries soon, perhaps ask the elders when I had time.

With that thought, I went to shower. After a satisfying hot bath, I climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep—the dorm environment at Tianyang Mountain was excellent.

...

The next morning at six, I was jolted awake by the loudspeaker at the door. It sounded six chimes, presumably the wake-up bell. Yesterday, when I looked at the schedule, I saw that every morning from just after six until eight, there was early training.

Groggy, I washed my face with cold water, which helped. I hurriedly changed clothes and stepped out. On the way downstairs, nearly everyone recognized me; a few greeted me familiarly, and I responded politely. Still, I wasn’t fully awake, feeling unsteady until I circulated some spiritual energy.

By then, the plaza was filled with people, each group occupying its designated space. As core disciples, we stood at the front of all the disciples—and I was foremost among the core disciples. Standing there, I felt as if thousands stood behind me, ready for battle.

I smiled, just as another teacher approached from the side—different from yesterday’s instructor. This one looked fierce and intimidating, not at all benevolent. Muscles bulged beneath his clothes, which seemed about ready to burst.

He stopped a few meters from me and shouted with spiritual energy,

“My name is Wu Yinshuang, today’s chief martial trainer. I hope everyone trains hard today—no slacking!”

I wondered what we’d be practicing, but then everyone began to perform a unified fist technique. The scene was impressive; if not for cultivators, one would rarely witness such discipline. Their moves resembled Tiger Fist, a swift and forceful style.

With my experience in fist techniques, merely following along once, I could grasp eighty percent. Wu Yinshuang led us in practice, setting an example. Immersed in the rhythm, I quickly mastered the entire set of Tiger Fist. Yet I sensed this was only the basics, not difficult—probably because ordinary disciples were present, so nothing too advanced was taught.

With each punch, everyone shouted together, “Hey! Ha!” I grew more enthusiastic in the front, joining in the shouts. From sunrise until eight o’clock, we practiced until it was finally over.

“You all trained well today. Continue tomorrow. Dismissed!” Wu Yinshuang called, then departed on his own. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The first class didn’t begin until nine, so I planned to return to the dorm for a shower. The morning was already warm, and after constant practice, I was drenched in sweat. Seeing me lead the way to the dormitory, the others dispersed—some to eat, some to class.