Hearing Steward Xue's voice, Yang Jing hesitated no longer and strode toward the fighting ring.
Once below the ring, he tapped his toes lightly against the ground. His body soared into the air like a swift swallow, and he landed steadily in the center.
"Go, Senior Brother Yang!"
"Watch out for Ma Guoliang's greatspear!"
Behind him, among the crowd of Lingxi Peak disciples, Lin Ziheng, Fang He, Yan Chenglong, and Ma Qiang waved their arms and cheered Yang Jing on.
Lin Ziheng's voice was especially booming, drawing the attention of many disciples nearby.
...
Meanwhile, Ma Guoliang slowly emerged from the crowd of Fen Yang Peak disciples.
He had a tall, straight posture and carried a jet-black greatspear on his back. With steady steps, he ascended the ring to face Yang Jing.
Below the ring, in a corner of the Fen Yang Peak disciple area, Chang Xiaoyu watched Ma Guoliang's back, her delicate hands clenching into tight fists. Her heart was filled with anxiety.
