A Man Who Lost 147 consecutive games

Deaths among Lingxiao Pavilion disciples due to internal conflicts are not uncommon each year, but even so, Zhou Dingjun couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for his senior brother, who was fearlessly pressing forward without retreating.

In Zhou Dingjun's position, he would have already conceded upon realizing his defeat. As the saying goes, "Where there is life, there is hope." However, Yang Kai's determination was unwavering, even in the face of impending doom.

Watching Yang Kai's increasingly disheveled appearance yet more resolute spirit, Zhou Dingjun knew that unless he knocked him out, this fight would never end today. With this thought in mind, Zhou Dingjun delivered a swift chop to Yang Kai's neck, dissipating his ferocious aura. Yang Kai's eyes went blank, and he collapsed limply to the ground.

Witnessing this, a figure standing on the canopy of a large tree several meters away pulled out a small booklet and casually opened a page. It read: "Trial disciple Yang Kai versus regular disciple Zhou Dingjun, Zhou Dingjun wins."

The person standing on the canopy was a young woman, as indicated by her graceful figure, although her true face was concealed by a black veil. However, her delicate eyebrows hinted at her youth. The leaf insignia on her arm identified her as a disciple of the Lingxiao Pavilion's Dark Hall.

The Dark Hall is a special institution under the jurisdiction of the Pavilion's third elder, responsible for recording various events within the sect, including the outcomes of disciple duels. Thus, there was no need to worry about not receiving contribution points after winning a challenge in the Lingxiao Pavilion; the Dark Hall disciples would record every battle's results and tally them monthly.

After recording the outcome of this fight, the Dark Hall disciple took out another smaller booklet from her waist, opened it, and read: "May 7th, the fourteenth year of Jihe, Yang Kai's 147th battle, defeat!"

Apart from this newly added line, the booklet was densely packed with records of all Yang Kai's battles, all stating the same outcome: defeat! A record of 147 consecutive losses without a single victory, unprecedented in the history of the Lingxiao Pavilion, a record that could make the heavens weep and the ghosts lament. And the creator of this record now lay unconscious on the ground.

Yang Kai had never challenged anyone; all 147 battles were initiated by others. This meant he had been challenged every five days for over two years. 

Looking at the unconscious Yang Kai, Xia Ningchang frowned slightly, unable to understand why he persisted to this extent. Already demoted to a trial disciple, struggling even for basic survival, why did he remain in the Lingxiao Pavilion? If he left, his life would surely improve. What kind of determination did this frail youth harbor that allowed him to endure 147 consecutive defeats without losing hope?

Perhaps it was simply the foolishness of men? Xia Ningchang's attention to Yang Kai was a coincidence; as a Dark Hall disciple assigned to monitor this area, she had witnessed every one of his challenges and knockouts. After the first few times, she began to notice this youth with only a third-level Body Tempering cultivation.

She wondered how long his perseverance would last before he left the Lingxiao Pavilion. With his talent and cultivation speed, he was not suited for this martial world; the mundane world was his true home.

As the crowd dispersed, leaving only Yang Kai unconscious on the ground, Xia Ningchang's figure blurred and vanished from the treetop.

When Yang Kai awoke again, the sun was already high in the sky. His entire body ached as he staggered to his feet and noticed he was no longer in the spot where he had fainted but under the shade of a nearby tree. How strange, he thought. Could it be that some kind-hearted senior brother had carried him here? This had never happened before. As he tried to recall, a vague memory surfaced of a shadow flitting before his eyes as he slipped into unconsciousness. Yet, the memory was too faint to grasp.

However, a clear drag mark between where he fainted and his current position indicated he had been dragged rather than carried. The realization brought a searing pain to his back.

Yang Kai paused, then felt a surge of anger. Any goodwill towards his anonymous benefactor vanished. Clearly, he had been dragged, which explained the abrasions on his back. It would have been better if they had just left him there! he thought.

As he brooded, Yang Kai noticed something in his right hand. Puzzled, he looked down and saw a finely crafted porcelain vial. What is this? This bottle wasn't his; he owned nothing but his clothes and a broom. A label on the vial read: "Coagulation and Bruise Healing Ointment."

Yang Kai knew this ointment. Though not a miraculous medicine, it was highly effective for treating external injuries. Every disciple carried a vial for emergencies, and it wasn't cheap at ten contribution points per bottle.

How much could Yang Kai earn sweeping for a month? Exactly ten points. This single vial was worth an entire month's labor!

Who could have done this? A powerful wave of emotion surged through Yang Kai, dulling the pain in his back. In three years at the Lingxiao Pavilion, he had seen the indifference and ruthlessness among its disciples, but today, someone had left him this healing ointment after he was injured. This gesture deeply moved him.

Not all Lingxiao Pavilion disciples were cold-hearted, after all.

This ointment might mean little to its owner, but to Yang Kai, it was invaluable.

Even a drop of kindness should be remembered forever. One day, he would repay this favor a hundredfold.

As he tried to recall the shadowy figure, the memory grew fainter, replaced by a lingering fragrance.

"Does this ointment have a scent?" Yang Kai mused.

After composing himself, he carefully placed the vial in his clothes and picked up his broom to continue his work.

He swept inside and out until noon, completing his tasks for the day. Despite his hunger, Yang Kai knew he had to tend to his injuries first. He removed his blue robe and washed himself. Anyone seeing his condition would be shocked: his emaciated frame was covered in bruises and scars, with no part unscathed.

Challenged every five days, always defeated and knocked out, new wounds overlaying old. Anyone else would have succumbed to the pain, but Yang Kai endured, continuing his daily training and sweeping despite his injuries.