Young hero, stay put and don't be reckless.

Chapter 114 selected

Hu Yanfei was already standing on the stage.

This man was burly and broad-shouldered, standing there like half a wall.

He looked Jiang Xun up and down, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Are you the one who replaced Zhao Tieyi?" he asked, his voice booming like thunder, making people's ears ring.

"Yes," Jiang Xun said.

"Doesn't look very good." Hu Yanfei grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. "Skinny as a monkey."

Jiang Xun laughed too: "Thin as you may be, you're all flesh on your bones."

Hu Yanfei laughed heartily, his laughter echoing through the training ground: "Interesting! Come on, let me see what you've got!"

He drew the curved sword from his waist.

That was a common style on the northern grasslands, with a thick blade that gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and three blood grooves on the back of the blade, clearly indicating that it had seen blood.

Jiang Xun also drew his sword.

The moment the longsword was drawn, its blade was gray and dull, with a few faint rust spots.

This sword was given to him by the Duke of Wei. He has never used it before, so today is a good day to give it a try.

The crowd below the stage reacted with varying expressions when they saw the sword in his hand.

Someone burst out laughing first, a laugh full of sarcasm that drew stares from those around them.

Even Chen Lei frowned slightly.

Jiang Xun acted as if he hadn't heard, and followed the others' example, politely saying, "Please."

Without wasting words, Hu Yanfei swung his sword down directly.

That slash was swift and fierce, the wind from the blade howling, like a mountain pressing down.

The people on the grasslands don't care about fancy knife skills; they just chop, hack, and sweep. But every strike carries immense power—simple and unadorned, yet deadly.

Jiang Xun already knew that this person was incredibly strong, so he didn't try to take the hit head-on.

He slipped, and the Azure Lotus Divine Strike was unleashed. His figure floated three feet away like a ghost, and the curved blade grazed his shoulder as it slashed down. With a "crack," a white mark was left on the blue bricks on the platform.

Hu Yanfei's first strike missed, but the second strike followed immediately.

This strike was a horizontal slash, sweeping across the waist, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistling sound.

Jiang Xun touched the ground with his toes and floated backward. The blade grazed his clothes, cutting off a corner of the cloth.

When his two strikes missed, Hu Yanfei's eyes lit up.

He no longer underestimated this skinny, monkey-like boy. He gripped the knife with both hands and brought it down on the boy's head with a third blow.

This strike was even more ferocious than the previous two, its momentum like a mountain collapsing, carrying a resolute determination that there was no turning back.

Jiang Xun did not back down this time.

He dodged to the side, flicked his sword tip, and used the "Going with the Flow" technique from the Spring Water Swordplay. The sword slid along the back of the blade, aiming straight for Hu Yanfei's fingers that were gripping the knife.

This sword strike was extremely cunning, forcing Hu Yanfei to retract his blade and defend. With a swift movement of his curved saber, he deflected the longsword with a clang.

Both of them compromised.

Hu Yanfei looked down at his hand—his tiger's mouth was numb from the shock, and there was a shallow bloodstain on his knuckles, a cut from the sword energy.

He looked up, the disdain in his eyes gone, replaced by the excitement of a hunter encountering his prey.

"Interesting," he said, licking his lips.

Jiang Xun didn't speak, but gripped the sword hilt tightly—his hand was also numb.

Hu Yanfei's strength was greater than he had expected. The head-on collision of swords had left half of his arm sore.

Hu Yanfei made his move again.

This time it wasn't just a simple chopping motion, but real swordsmanship.

The scimitar danced in his hands, sometimes like a raging storm, sometimes like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, each strike carrying the unique wildness of the grasslands.

His footwork also changed. He no longer stood still and slashed, but circled around Jiang Xun like a wolf, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes forward, sometimes backward, making him unpredictable.

Jiang Xun focused all his attention and unleashed the full power of the Spring Water Sword Technique.

The sword light flowed like water, endlessly, wave after wave surging towards Huyan Fei.

His sword was not fast, but each strike perfectly blocked Hu Yanfei's attack—as soft as water, yet as penetrating as water.

Hu Yanfei's blade was fierce and powerful, while his sword was flexible and resilient; Hu Yanfei's blade was fast, while his sword was slow.

Use softness to overcome hardness, and stillness to control movement.

The two fought back and forth on the stage, their swords flashing and clashing, captivating the audience.

When they reached the twentieth move, Jiang Xun suddenly changed his move.

The "Undercurrent" technique from the Spring Water Swordplay was unleashed with full force—a flash of sword light, and three sword shadows simultaneously stabbed towards Hu Yanfei's throat, chest, and abdomen.

Hu Yanfei swung his sword to parry, knocking away two sword shadows with two sharp clangs. Suddenly, the third sword shadow solidified, its tip already at his chest.

Hu Yanfei's expression changed, and he suddenly turned to the side.

The sword tip grazed his ribs, slicing through his leather robe and leaving a bloody mark on his skin.

Using the momentum of his sidestep, he swung his curved sword backhand, the blade aimed straight for Jiang Xun's throat—this strike was swift and ruthless, a desperate gamble: if you don't sheathe your sword, I'll take you down with me.

Jiang Xun certainly didn't want to perish together with his opponent.

He sheathed his sword and retreated, his body floating backward to narrowly avoid the blow.

The blade grazed under his chin, cool and swift, severing a few newly sprouted whiskers.

The two distanced themselves again.

Hu Yanfei looked down at the wound on his ribs; blood beads seeped out, staining his leather robe red.

He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, then suddenly laughed.

"Excellent swordsmanship." There was no anger in his tone, only admiration. "You're the first one to make me bleed."

Jiang Xun laughed too: "You're also the first person who almost disfigured me."

Hu Yanfei burst into laughter, his laughter even louder than before.

"I'm not fighting anymore." He slung his scimitar over his shoulder. "If we keep fighting, I'm really going to lose."

Jiang Xun was taken aback: "Aren't you going to fight?"

"I'm not playing anymore." Hu Yanfei waved his hand, turned around and walked off the stage. "I concede. You win."

Both those on and off stage were stunned.

Huang Hu coughed and announced, "Jiang Xunsheng."

In the Northern stands, several people looked at each other, but no one voiced any objection.

Hu Yanfei himself has admitted it, so what else can they say?

Standing on the stage, Jiang Xun looked at Hu Yanfei's imposing back and suddenly felt a sense of goodwill towards this man from the northern border.

Being able to accept defeat without being pretentious is much better than someone who tries to cheat after losing.

The competition ended just past noon.

Helian Quan showed no intention of inviting everyone to lunch, and after saying a few polite words, he got up and left.

Just as Jiang Xun was about to follow the crowd out, Huang Hu's voice came down from the high platform.

"Young Master Xiao, Young Master Tuoba, Miss Ye, Young Master Chen, and Young Master Jiang, please wait a moment."

Jiang Xun paused, then turned around.

Huang Hu stood on the stage, cupped his hands in greeting to them, and smiled warmly: "Tonight, I have prepared a simple banquet at the City Lord's Mansion, and I urge the five of you to grace us with your presence."

The group exchanged glances, all understanding what had happened—they had been selected.

Five people from the Central Plains and five people from the Northern Border made it five out of ten, and these five were the final candidates.

Those who hadn't left the audience understood.

Some people were envious, some were resentful, and some watched coldly, but no one objected.

Everyone witnessed those matches; the winners deserved to win, and the losers were not unjustified.

Xiao Rui was the first to speak, cupping his hands in a respectful gesture, his tone composed: "Thank you, Senior Huang."

The others naturally agreed as well.