Zhu Zhuqing didn't answer right away.
"Your breathing is steady," she finally said after a pause, her voice as calm and even as always—though, if one listened closely, it was perhaps a shade softer than usual.
"Your eyes are clear, showing no sign of fatigue."
"Someone who stayed awake all night wouldn't look like this."
Dai Chengfeng's brows lifted slightly; his smile deepened. "Sharp observation."
"So," he teased gently, "my good spirits disappoint you?"
"I'm not disappointed."
Zhu Zhuqing turned her gaze away, back to the ironwood dummy. "I'm merely reminding you—cultivation thrives on consistency. Don't let external distractions easily unsettle your focus."
"External distractions?"
Dai Chengfeng chuckled lightly. He straightened up, placing both hands on the edge of the stone table, casting a partial shadow over her. "Zhuqing, you make it sound as if I've been neglecting my duties."
"Taking a morning walk to cultivate one's temperament hardly counts as a distraction, does it?"
Zhu Zhuqing remained silent.
But to Dai Chengfeng, that silence was an answer.
She had never been one for unnecessary words. And now, her quietness carried the weight of unspoken scrutiny—cool, precise, and quietly reproachful.
"Alright," Dai Chengfeng relented with mock surrender, raising both hands and stepping back half a pace to give her space. "I admit it—I encountered something… particularly uplifting this morning."
"But that shouldn't stop me from caring about your training, should it?"
He gestured toward the fresh marks on the dummy. "Judging by these, you've been at it for at least two hours since I left."
"You started right at dawn, didn't you?"
Zhu Zhuqing gave a slight nod.
Her routine was famously strict—she rose without fail at the hour of Yin, come rain or shine.
"Pushing yourself too hard won't necessarily yield better results," Dai Chengfeng said seriously, his tone turning earnest. "Especially now—you're in a critical phase of soul power accumulation and physical development. Relentless grinding can damage your foundation."
"How about trying something different today?"
Zhu Zhuqing looked at him. "What do you have in mind?"
"What's the point of hitting a lifeless post?"
Dai Chengfeng rotated his wrists, his neck cracking faintly. A competitive glint sparked in his eyes. "How about I spar with you?"
"No soul power—just hand-to-hand combat, footwork, and reflexes. What do you say?"
The suggestion lit a subtle fire in Zhu Zhuqing's cool eyes.
She knew Dai Chengfeng's strength well.
Sparring with such an opponent—purely through skill—would be far more beneficial than striking wood. It would test the true fruits of her solitary practice.
"Fine." She accepted without hesitation, crisp and decisive.
"Then… begin?"
Before the word fully left his lips, Dai Chengfeng shot forward like a hunting leopard—no warning, no buildup.
He didn't charge head-on. Instead, his form blurred into a sidelong feint, a silent hand-chop slicing toward the side of her neck—fast, precise, and deceptively angled.
But Zhu Zhuqing reacted even faster.
The moment he moved, she seemed to anticipate it. Her slender waist arched backward in a fluid evasion, narrowly avoiding the strike.
Simultaneously, her right leg snapped upward like a whip, toes pointed, aiming for the exposed gap beneath his ribs.
Attack and defense flowed seamlessly—instantaneous, seamless.
"Hmm?" Dai Chengfeng let out a surprised sound, admiration flashing in his eyes.
He didn't block. Instead, his left hand slammed into the ground, propelling his body into a sideways aerial spin—not only dodging her rising kick but using the momentum to sweep horizontally at her supporting left leg.
Yet Zhu Zhuqing had already foreseen this.
Her extended right leg didn't retract. Instead, she used it as a pivot, twisting her entire body mid-air, lifting her left leg off the ground.
Not only did she evade his sweep—but in the same rotation, she channeled force into her left elbow, driving it down toward Dai Chengfeng's shoulder blade as he spun past.
Thud!
Elbow met forearm—a dull, resonant impact.
They separated instantly, each sliding backward several steps to dissipate the force.
Round one: evenly matched.
Leaves swirled around them, kicked up by the gust of their movement.
Dai Chengfeng shook out his slightly numb arm, grinning.
"Not bad. Your reaction time and anticipation have improved. Looks like pounding that dummy wasn't wasted effort."
Zhu Zhuqing said nothing. She simply adjusted her breath, her gaze sharp as a hawk's, locked onto him.
Every muscle in her body balanced on a razor's edge—ready to explode into motion at any instant.
That brief exchange had awakened something primal in her blood—a quiet thrill of combat. Sparring with Dai Chengfeng brought both pressure and exhilaration.
"Again."
Her voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible edge of battle-lust.
This time, she struck first.
Her form flickered—not in a straight line, but in an erratic, weaving rhythm, shifting left and right unpredictably, obscuring her true path of attack.
It was a footwork technique she'd developed herself, inspired by her Nether Spirit Cat martial soul. Even without soul power, its ghostly agility was already evident.
Dai Chengfeng's expression grew focused. He shed his earlier casualness, meeting her with full concentration.
Among their peers, Zhu Zhuqing's speed and agility were unmatched. Even without soul power, most would find her movements blindingly fast.
Now, her black-clad figure darted in like a phantom. Fingers curled slightly like claws, she unleashed a flurry of strikes aimed at vital joints and pressure points across his upper body—each move ruthless, precise, honed for real combat.
Dai Chengfeng remained calm. He danced aside with the grace of willow branches in the wind, slipping through gaps so narrow they seemed nonexistent.
His evasions looked perilous—but he always found the sliver of space at the last possible moment.
When he blocked, it was with finesse—redirecting force, never meeting her head-on.
He knew her strength lay not in raw power, but in piercing speed and precision. A direct clash would be foolish.
For a time, the courtyard became a storm of motion—two figures leaping, weaving, clashing, and separating.
Black fabric and plain robes blurred together, stirring currents of air.
The thuds of flesh meeting flesh, the sharp whistle of sleeves cutting through wind, the occasional crunch of fallen leaves underfoot—all wove into a fierce, rhythmic symphony in the quiet morning yard.
Zhu Zhuqing fought faster and fiercer with every passing second.
She poured all her recent insights—from hours of lonely practice—into her attacks. Moves that had once felt stiff or disjointed against the dummy now flowed with newfound fluidity when tested against a living, skilled opponent.
Pressure, indeed, was the finest catalyst for growth.
Dai Chengfeng noticed her progress clearly.
'This girl', he thought inwardly, 'has top-tier talent, discipline, and that rare, relentless drive.'
Sparring with her sharpened not just her skills—but his own.
He kept his soul power completely suppressed, relying solely on pure body techniques. It demanded total focus, pushing his combat awareness to its limits.
Yet, as the bout continued—amidst the heat of battle—Dai Chengfeng's thoughts began, almost involuntarily, to drift.
Especially whenever their bodies came close—when limbs collided, brushed, or tangled in the heat of exchange.
------------------------------------------------------
Join my Patreon to read the completed exclusive novel – 'Douluo: Rebuilding Hao Tian Sect' + get up to 30 Chapters ahead: patreon.com/EphemeralShadow
There's something for free patrons too! Free Patrons receive 1 chapter in advance :)