Although Fang Xing never missed a martial arts class, it wasn't as if every lesson came with personal guidance from Xia Long—especially when it came to actual hands-on practice.
So when the opportunity came, he made sure to savor every detail, feeling out the differences.
After half an hour of practicing the Great Dragon Stance, they moved on to the Twelve Forms of Military Boxing.
Fang Xing went through the forms seriously, hoping Xia Long would step in and correct him.
Unfortunately, this time Xia Long only glanced his way, gave a small nod… then shook his head.
"Everyone has made progress, and that's good," Xia Long said flatly. "But the heart of martial arts lies in real combat. If you can fight, then everything else is fine. If you can't fight, all your talk is just hot air. Now—pair up. We're doing live sparring drills."
He tapped the watch on his wrist, and a translucent blue light screen appeared in front of him.
Names scrolled across the surface before stopping.
"First match: Bai Lang versus Qian Xun," Xia Long announced, expression unreadable. "Everyone else, clear the floor."
"Please guide me," Bai Lang said politely, bowing. He was tall and lean, with a short buzz cut.
"Please guide me," Qian Xun replied, dressed in a teal training uniform, her bobbed hair framing her face. She bowed in return.
Snap!
In the next instant, Bai Lang lunged forward like an arrow leaving the bow, covering several meters in a single burst. His five fingers clenched into a tight fist—Cannon Punch.
The air cracked sharply; his bow-step cannon punch was clearly well-practiced.
Bang!
The punch struck only air. Qian Xun had bent backward in a movement like an "iron plate bridge," her slender waist arcing a full ninety degrees—something almost impossible to imagine.
Then her palms hit the ground, her long legs coiling upward with boneless flexibility, wrapping around him like twin serpents.
From the Twelve Forms—Twin Snake Legs!
A moment later, Bai Lang was caught tight, dragged to the floor like prey constricted by a giant python.
A clean chokehold.
"I surrender!" Bai Lang's face was flushed—whether from lack of oxygen or excitement was unclear, but Fang Xing suspected he wasn't too disappointed.
Nearby, Liu Wei slapped his thigh regretfully.
"Damn… lucky bastard. Why couldn't it have been me up there?"
"Next match—Yi An versus Cole!" Xia Long called, his tone unchanged.
Yi An was short and wiry, with dark skin. Cole, on the other hand, was the picture of a tall, broad-shouldered white guy, towering almost two heads over Yi An.
When given the signal, Cole smirked, drew his right fist back, and shot forward like a loosed arrow.
Boom!
The punch came so fast Yi An had no chance to dodge. He flew backward, arms hastily raised in defense—but the sharp crack of bone breaking was still audible.
"One punch…""Cole's strike… that's nearly reached the 'worth-a-fortune single cannon blast' level…" whispered the surrounding students in shock.
The bow-step cannon punch—and the "cannon" was the essence!
"Yeah… with his size and strength, in the early stages of training he's got a huge advantage—like those natural-born prodigies of old," Liu Wei muttered.
Xia Long folded his arms, nodding inwardly.
The Twelve Forms might only be a C-rank martial art, but for a first-year to get this far was respectable. He mentally marked Cole for observation, but didn't say much aloud.
"Two of you—get Yi An to the infirmary. Next match… Liu Wei versus Bai Lianyi!"
"Huh?" Fang Xing glanced to the side.
Liu Wei, barely holding back his excitement, stepped forward calmly.
"Miss Bai, please guide me."
Bai Lianyi nodded lightly. She looked like a lotus blossom in white, her voice as soft and delicate as a southern river's breeze.
"Careful now, Liu."
Before the words were even finished, her figure blurred—she was already in front of him.
"So fast!" Fang Xing thought, eyes narrowing.
Her speed was likely the fastest in the class—and as a bio-engineered human, her martial progress had actually surpassed many natural-born students, which was remarkable.
But even more remarkable was the sound that followed—
Shhhh!
Her right leg swept high, the white training cloth snapping in the air.
It was like the air itself was being split by a massive axe—and that axe was her leg.
From the Twelve Forms—War Axe Kick!
Crack!
The bone-breaking sound was sharp and brutal.
Liu Wei was launched like he'd been hit by a speeding train, screaming in mid-air:
"My arm!"
"It's fine, just a broken arm. Someone get him to the infirmary," Xia Long frowned.
What he didn't realize was that the school infirmary charged money—even for "cheap" treatments.
"Next match—Fang Xing versus Ouyang Qianqian!"
Fang Xing had been about to help his desk mate Liu Wei to the infirmary, but hearing his name, he could only give Liu Wei an apologetic look and step forward.
Liu Wei stopped groaning immediately, refusing to leave—after all, this was his best friend versus his crush.
"Go for it, Ah Xing!" he called, certain Ouyang Qianqian, a top-performing natural-born student, wouldn't lose.
"Please guide me," Fang Xing said easily, smiling at her as he assumed his military boxing stance. He also disabled the defensive mode on his nano-suit—this was just class sparring, no need to cheat.
"Please," she replied. Her hands floated like orchid petals, striking with sudden precision—not from the Twelve Forms, but her family's Flying Orchid Finger style.
It was a C-rank martial art, specialized in finger agility and flexibility training.
Hmm… weaker than Gu Yun, Fang Xing thought. Both from natural-born families, but if Gu Yun's from a middle-income background, Qianqian's family is poor. Still… even that's better than us bio-engineered types—we're born in debt.
He sidestepped her first strike, then brought his own five fingers together into his most familiar move—Cannon Punch.
Body like a pine, stance like a bow, fist like a cannon!
Boom!
The heavy punch ripped through the air.
But Ouyang Qianqian drifted backward like willow fluff in the wind, just barely avoiding the blow—Willow Drift Step.
She twisted to his right, jade-like fingers darting toward him. The move was lethal yet graceful, like a spring breeze.
Fang Xing twisted his waist, closing in instead of retreating—
Smack!
Pain shot up his back, but he didn't hesitate. His arms swung wide and wrapped her in a tight bear hug.
"Ah!"
Liu Wei's shout of disbelief rang out as Fang Xing dragged her to the ground with him.
Doesn't matter if she's stronger—just drag her into my zone, and my experience will win.
Ground fighting favored him—and, honestly, Liu Wei was probably about to have a nosebleed watching this.
But meeting her unyielding gaze, Fang Xing slapped the ground.
"I surrender."
Yes, he had the advantage here—but her skin-and-muscle refinement was clearly further along than his. Even with a gender-based disadvantage in ground combat, she could win if he dragged it out, and he'd likely end up injured.
This was just harmless class sparring—why risk it?
"Stop," Xia Long ordered. He turned to Ouyang Qianqian, who climbed up looking unwilling to accept the result. "I've told you all before—not to rely too much on so-called family styles. No matter how good they are, can they match what the academy—or even the Federal Alliance—teaches? Qianqian's style has traces of ancient martial traditions, and the emphasis on elegance gave Fang Xing an opening. The Twelve Forms are built for battlefield killing—no wasted motions. Even if the stance looks crude, winning and surviving are what matter most. For example, Fang Xing—if you'd followed up with the 'Boar Dragon Roll,' you could have had a high chance of winning."
His tactical breakdown benefited both fighters.
In truth, without Qianqian's early mistake, Fang Xing wouldn't have brought her down at all.
"Next match…" Xia Long moved on, though inwardly he noted, This Fang Xing… not bad.
Qianqian had family resources and a faster body refinement rate than a bio-engineered student, yet had been forced into such a position—showing her lack of real combat experience.
Fang Xing, however, had solid combat instincts, and the wisdom to cut his losses.
And—he improved, however slightly, every lesson.
Even the top students like Bai Lianyi or Cole didn't progress every single time.
Maybe he's just in good form lately… let's keep watching.
Fang Xing returned to Liu Wei's side.
"You actually tackled Qianqian…" Liu Wei said, full of resentment.
"Cough, cough… I surrendered, didn't I? Otherwise the fight would've just gotten awkward." Fang Xing tried to play it off—though really, he'd wanted to make a good impression on Xia Long.
"Our years of friendship… all sunk. But fine, take me to the infirmary first," Liu Wei said, giving up the grudge.
They started walking, but as they passed a flower bed, Fang Xing stopped.
Up ahead stood a girl in a pure white training uniform, her aura as serene as a lotus blooming in a southern river.
It was Bai Lianyi.
(End of Chapter)