Chapter 37 Three moves

"Wei Yi, how could you agree to Instructor Xu's challenge?"

"He's clearly up to no good! He's a fourth-year instructor and a Tier-3 Grand Martial Master. If you fight him, won't you be at a terrible disadvantage?"

Pulling Wei Yi aside, Zhu Ling'er spoke with evident anxiety clouding her delicate features.

"Because I promised to go with you to the Tyrant Sect," Wei Yi replied with a casual shrug and a smile.

Clearly, he hadn't taken the matter to heart.

"You…"

Zhu Ling'er was both embarrassed and frustrated.

"How can you still joke around at a time like this? Maybe I should go plead with Grandfather Dean again…"

"If it comes to that, I'll pester him for a few more days—once he gets annoyed enough, he's sure to give in!"

A sudden spark lit her eyes as she proposed this plan.

Wei Yi paused upon hearing her words, a warm current quietly surging in his heart.

Gazing at the anxious girl before him, a saying came to mind: The eunuch panics while the emperor remains calm.

Of course, he dared not utter that aloud. Instead, he gently reached out and brushed her jet-black hair with a smile. "I'm not joking. Truly—there's nothing for you to worry about."

This gentle gesture stunned Zhu Ling'er into momentary silence.

"You… you…"

A blush bloomed across her face like a sunset spilling over snow.

Words caught in her throat—after all, she was a young maiden unaccustomed to such intimate gestures from the opposite sex.

"Do you trust me?"

Wei Yi looked into her eyes as he spoke.

"Of course I do, but…"

Zhu Ling'er bit her lip hesitantly.

"If you believe in me, then you needn't worry. I will win," Wei Yi said with a faint smile. He leaned closer and whispered near her ear, "Let me tell you a secret—if I wanted to deal with him, one hand would suffice."

A gentle breath brushed past her ear.

His magnetic voice echoed endlessly in her mind.

Zhu Ling'er's fair neck flushed crimson.

Her head drooped slightly, and she murmured softly, "I believe you."

In truth, she hadn't even caught his last few words clearly. Her heart was beating wildly, like a startled deer darting through a forest.

Ahem.

"You two lovebirds, that's quite enough."

The old dean's voice rang out, breaking the spell.

"If Instructor Xu is willing to offer guidance, I certainly won't decline."

Wei Yi stepped forward, expression unchanged.

"Heh. If you can withstand ten moves from me, you'll earn yourself a spot. Just ten moves—should be easy enough, right?" Instructor Xu said with a faint smile.

Yet his gaze held thinly veiled contempt.

"Very well. Let's take this to the indoor arena downstairs," the old dean said, wasting no words.

…

Moments later, the group arrived at the first-floor training hall.

Spectators lined the edge of the sparring platform.

Wei Yi and Instructor Xu ascended from opposite ends.

"You truly think you can endure ten of my strikes?"

Instructor Xu asked with a mocking smile.

"Isn't this a chance you've graciously granted me?" Wei Yi replied innocently.

Instructor Xu's sneer deepened.

"To be frank, I've recently broken through to Tier-4 Grand Martial Master. Among the fourth-year instructors, I rank in the top ten."

"To defeat a mere Martial Master like you—forget ten moves, you won't last even three!"

"Then doesn't that make your ten-move challenge impossible from the start?" Wei Yi asked in feigned astonishment.

"Hmph. At least you're aware," Xu scoffed. "If you know what's good for you, admit defeat now. Don't covet something beyond your station—this spot isn't meant for a second-year student like you."

"So this was a trap all along," Wei Yi mused aloud, as if the realization had just dawned on him.

Yet a carefree smile lit his face the next moment, as though none of it truly mattered.

"In that case, Instructor Xu, I humbly await your instruction."

"You brought this on yourself," Xu growled, the hostility in his gaze intensifying.

Part of his aggression stemmed from a personal dislike of Wei Yi—but more than that, he had his own candidate for the spot, and Wei Yi's presence threatened his plan.

"Three moves—that's all I need!"

As his words fell, Instructor Xu's aura surged violently. As a Tier-4 Grand Martial Master, his presence was nothing short of overwhelming.

A bone-chilling pressure blanketed the arena, saturating the vast hall with an oppressive cold.

It was like the heart of winter had descended upon them.

The other instructors, their cultivation deeper, felt nothing amiss. But Zhu Ling'er, a mere Martial Master, could hardly hide her shock.

Fortunately, the old dean waved his hand and instantly dispelled the cold air surrounding her.

As for Wei Yi, though also a Martial Master—and clearly Xu's intended target—he stood perfectly composed, unfazed by the terrifying aura.

"Not bad, not bad," the old dean chuckled. "Ling'er, you've got good taste."

"Grandfather Dean, don't tease me."

Blushing, Zhu Ling'er tugged at his sleeve and pleaded, "Since you think he's promising, can't you just give him the spot?"

"If he wins, he'll get it. What's wrong—don't believe in him?" the old man teased.

"It's not that… I just…" Zhu Ling'er faltered. "Do you really think he can withstand ten moves?"

"You'll see soon enough."

The old dean only smiled, refusing to elaborate.

At that moment, Instructor Xu made his move.

A simple punch.

But within that unassuming blow surged the raw might of a Tier-4 Grand Martial Master.

Though it appeared plain, it was not something a lesser warrior could endure—certainly not anyone beneath the Grand Master level.

And Wei Yi? He had yet to reach that realm.

But he was no ordinary Martial Master.

As the punch rocketed toward him, he shifted his stance, executing the Blackwater Steps—a Level 10, top-tier Mortal-grade movement technique. Even Grand Martial Masters would find it exceptional.

The result?

Instructor Xu's strike missed entirely.

A collective gasp rose—no one had anticipated such an outcome.

"That's one," Wei Yi said calmly, lifting a single finger with a faint smirk.

"You insolent whelp!"

Fury twisted Instructor Xu's features.

He had merely intended to defeat Wei Yi—but now, he was determined to humiliate him.

"Icy Fist!"

With a roar, he struck again.

But this time, it was no ordinary attack.

It was his most refined martial technique—Cold Ice Fist. Frigid energy surged forth, a roaring dragon of frost curling around his arm as the punch tore through the air toward Wei Yi.

"Twin Dragons Emerge!"

Without waiting for a response, his left fist followed—another icy blow charged with internal energy.

Twin Dragons Emerge—a signature combo that had built his reputation.

This time, he wasn't merely trying to win—he was aiming to maim.

Around the platform, many instructors frowned.

Such viciousness against a student was unbecoming of an instructor's dignity.

"Wei Yi!"

Zhu Ling'er's face paled in horror.

She covered her mouth, panic flooding her gaze.

"Give it up, boy!"

Instructor Xu snarled.

Two powerful techniques, unleashed in unison—even a fellow Grand Martial Master would be caught off guard.

The fists reached Wei Yi's chest in a blink.

Instructor Xu could already picture his opponent crumpling in agony.

Then—

Wei Yi vanished.

Yes—vanished.

His famed combo struck only air.

Xu froze, stunned.

Impossible.

"Three moves are over,"

"Now it's my turn."

"You needed three—I'll need only one."

The words rang out, cold and clear—from directly behind him.