Barely even trying

Four days passed since the departure of the merchant caravan.

These four days, it rained without stopping.

The sun rose high in the sky, tearing away the rain curtain, seemingly unveiling summer itself. The breath of summer had begun to linger.

The weather grew increasingly sunny, sweeping away the sentimental spring air as temperatures rose. At night, the lively Dragonpill crickets retreated deep underground to lay eggs. The green spear bamboo on Qing Mao Mountain grew wildly, showing visible daily height gains.

The grass and trees darkened from emerald to deep green. The mountains became more verdant, their green uninterrupted and lush. The clear weather spanned miles, blue as crystal.

*Bang, bang, bang*

At the academy training grounds, punches and kicks echoed. After exchanging ten blows, Gu Yue Mo Bei was kicked in the abdomen by Fang Yuan, stumbling back five or six steps, outside the designated arena circle.

The martial arts instructor, watching nearby, declared, "Gu Yue Mo Bei has exited the stage. Gu Yue Fang Yuan wins for the 33rd consecutive time!"

"Hmph, I lost to you again." Gu Yue Mo Bei gritted his teeth, his gaze fixed on Fang Yuan. "But don't get arrogant. One day, I'll defeat you. I can feel that day nearing!"

Fang Yuan looked at him expressionlessly, then his eyelids drooped. "That kick gave you internal bleeding. I'd advise you to treat it first."

"This small injury is nothing!" Mo Bei started to retort, but his expression suddenly changed, and he coughed up blood.

His face turned pale; it was the first time he'd suffered such an injury, and fear flickered in his eyes.

The martial arts instructor rushed over to reassure him. "It's not serious. Just rest for a few days and avoid vigorous exercise."

Two healing Gu Masters waiting nearby rushed over, carefully escorting Mo Bei away. He said nothing more but cast Fang Yuan a deep, angry glare, filled with hatred, regret, and indignation.

"Mo Bei has good techniques, but he still couldn't beat Fang Yuan."

"Fang Yuan is too strong; no one can beat him!"

"Mo Bei even vomited blood—that's scary. I don't want to fight him."

"Sigh, but the instructor said today is practice combat, so each of us has to go up once."

Outside the arena, students whispered among themselves, some gazing at Fang Yuan in fear, others sighing. Some looked pale with dread. A few tended to their bruises, limbs, and other injuries.

"Next!" The instructor yelled when no one else volunteered.

But silence greeted him. Only Gu Yue Mo Bei, Gu Yue Chi Chen, Gu Yue Fang Zheng, and Qin usually had the courage to challenge Fang Yuan, but they'd already been defeated.

The instructor frowned, annoyed by their fearful expressions. He recalled the academy elder's words: "Fang Yuan has become too dominant; we have to temper him. If this goes on, the students' courage will dwindle. Our academy nurtures tigers and wolves to face enemies, not sheep and lambs."

"What's wrong with all of you? Fang Yuan is only fifteen, like you! He eats the same food, drinks the same water, and has no special abilities. Show me the pride of the Gu Yue clan!" the instructor yelled, trying to stir them.

"But he's too strong; we can't beat him."

"Look at what happened to Mo Bei—he even vomited blood."

"Fang Yuan's getting more ruthless with his hits; we're afraid to fight him."

The students murmured weakly, and the instructor stomped his foot in anger. He could tell Fang Yuan was exhausted from his thirty-three consecutive matches. Though he adjusted his breathing, his stamina was clearly depleting.

If someone pressed him now, his fatigue would show. Just a few more challengers could bring him down.

The instructor's words had initially sparked some courage, but after so many rounds, the students had grown numb to his encouragement.

Fang Yuan folded his arms, watching coldly. Though standing in the arena center, he seemed like a detached bystander.

The instructor urged them on, but no one moved. Furious, he turned to Fang Yuan, "Your blows are too vicious. Be more considerate toward your classmates. If you make another bleed, I'll declare your loss and evict you from the stage!"

"Instructor, you're mistaken."

Fang Yuan's gaze remained steady. "In training, we should give it our all. Should we ask our enemies to be gentle in a real fight?"

The instructor's face flushed with anger. "Your strikes are too harsh; you're harming your classmates. Stop twisting logic!"

"Again, you're mistaken." Fang Yuan's voice was cold. "You arranged this practice match, raising the prize to twenty primeval stones. Without your incentive, would these students have gotten hurt?"

"Bastard!" The instructor pointed at him, seething. "Do you even want the prize? If you keep arguing, I'll declare you a loser! With this attitude, you've no right to claim the prize!"

Fang Yuan laughed. "A prize of twenty primeval stones? Do you think I care?"

He turned and left the arena, ignoring the students' shocked stares. He still had several hundred primeval stones and hadn't entered the competition for the reward.

The instructor stared, stunned. How could a fifteen-year-old with such fighting talent not care about winning or even competing?

Realizing Fang Yuan wouldn't play along, the instructor's face fell. He couldn't force Fang Yuan back onto the stage.

The students instinctively stepped away from Fang Yuan, creating a five-step radius around him—a vacuum of silence.

Had they been closer, they would have heard his labored breathing.

'My stamina is nearly spent,' Fang Yuan sighed inwardly. Beneath his calm exterior, his body was trembling from exhaustion.

Though he had a staggering amount of combat experience from his past life, the other students had improved a bit, and he could feel the pressure. His strikes had grown harsher as he struggled to keep control of the arena.

'Experience alone isn't enough. Techniques require a body capable of using them,' he thought, eyes narrowing. He'd already seen through the instructor's intentions.

The academy elder wanted Fang Yuan to motivate the students to improve—not crush their fighting spirit. He wanted to see Fang Yuan defeated, shattering his invincible image and rekindling the students' fighting will.

But Fang Yuan had his own motives. Without his dominance, he'd lose his influence over the students, making extorting primeval stones more difficult.

The instructor finally shouted, "Why is no one on stage? First prize is twenty stones—don't you want it?"

Motivated, students began to approach.

"I'll go!"

"Me too!"

Two young men entered the arena and began sparring.

"If I'd waited, I wouldn't have been thrown off by Fang Yuan."

"What a pity Fang Yuan left."

"He's bold, even the instructor didn't know what to do with him."

Hearing the whispers, the instructor felt his authority crumbling. He glared angrily at Fang Yuan, who merely smirked in return.

But as he walked away, a small thought lingered. A tiny thing, speck of dust, but one that wasn't missed by his instinct honed over 500 years. 

That...Qin, Chi Chen's servant… there was something off about him. While the other students threw everything they had at him fighting till collapse, Qin, though shouting fiercely, seemed to hold back. 

Even Fang Yuan wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the boy's slight restraint in throwing punches—just a shade shy of his true potential. Was it subconscious? Or intentional?

He didn't dwell on it, but tucked the thought away as he continued on his merry way.