Chapter 39: Fateful Encounters

“All right! The top eighteen have been decided. After a vote by the judges, two contestants who were eliminated have been selected to rejoin, so now we have our final twenty. Next, we’ll draw lots for the showdown to determine the top ten!” With the first round of the advancement tournament concluded, the critical second round was about to begin.

The twenty contestants who had made it to the final advancement round stepped forward one by one to draw lots. The results came out swiftly, and when the ten pairs of opponents stood face to face, many were astonished to find that Du Long was pitted against Li Xiaojun!

A mocking smile spread across Du Long’s face as he stood with arms folded, looking up at his old nemesis with undisguised contempt. Fate truly loved to bring enemies together on a narrow path! He recalled how he had dealt with this fellow at the Drunken Fragrance Pavilion, and never expected to have another chance so soon to teach him a lesson openly.

To tell the truth, deep down, Li Xiaojun was quite afraid of Du Long. During their last encounter at the Drunken Fragrance Pavilion, he and Fan Wei had suffered a humiliating defeat at Du Long’s hands and had nearly been too ashamed to attend the imperial New Year’s celebration the next day.

“Du Long! In today’s elimination match, the use of weapons or spirit beasts is strictly forbidden! Hmph! I don’t believe you, you good-for-nothing, have anything to be arrogant about now!” Li Xiaojun tried to sound fierce, but his voice betrayed his lack of confidence as he growled at Du Long.

Du Long’s lips curled in disdain as he gazed at the man who had, in his past life, repeatedly humiliated him together with Zhao Lin’er. Yet his eyes grew cold.

“Heh, don’t worry! I won’t use any outside help today. In fact, I’ll even fight you with one hand behind my back. I really want to see what makes you so special that the woman I loved would throw herself at you so eagerly!” Du Long replied with a sinister smile, his gaze fixed so intently on Li Xiaojun that the latter felt a chill down his spine.

Outside the ring, Zhao Lin’er clenched her fists tightly, her gaze flitting anxiously between the two men who had each played significant roles in her life. She muttered under her breath with nervous desperation, “You must defeat him... you must defeat him...”

It was obvious she was praying for Li Xiaojun to triumph over Du Long. Otherwise, her hasty choice would become the laughingstock of the entire city.

“The final advancement matches begin now!”

As tension mounted, the referee on the dais finally announced the start of the matches. On the ten tournament platforms below, the contestants exchanged courteous bows before launching into their battles.

With a soft thud, Xia Qinglian’s match began. As before, she moved with ethereal grace, flashing forward and striking her opponent with a palm that sent him flying from the ring in an instant. Following Du Long’s advice, she kept her abilities hidden and finished the bout quickly, revealing as little as possible.

After dispatching her opponent, she brushed her hands clean and, without sparing a glance at the fallen challenger, turned her gaze toward the platform where Du Long was competing.

Du Long still stood with arms folded, eyeing Li Xiaojun, who was too wary to launch the first attack. “What’s wrong? I’m giving you the chance to strike first, yet you don’t dare? Well then, I suppose it’s my turn!”

“Go to hell!” Provoked by Du Long’s repeated taunts, Li Xiaojun finally lost his temper. With a furious roar, he lunged wildly and threw a heavy punch at Du Long’s chest. In response, Du Long tucked his left hand behind his back, reached out with his right, and effortlessly caught Li Xiaojun’s wrist.

Sidestepping nimbly, he used the force of Li Xiaojun’s own momentum against him, and, in a deft movement, sent his opponent stumbling forward, utterly off balance.

Du Long had no intention of letting this man—who had once humiliated him in his previous life—off lightly. Seizing the opportunity, he drove his knee hard into Li Xiaojun’s abdomen. The dull thud of impact was followed by a cry of pain; Li Xiaojun’s handsome face contorted as he doubled over, his body bowing like a shrimp.

The force of that knee was immense. Not only did it halt Li Xiaojun’s charge, it also sent him flying up and backward at an angle—yet Du Long’s grip on his wrist never loosened.

Moving in close, Du Long continued his assault. With his left hand still behind his back, his right fist and both feet worked relentlessly, landing blow after blow on Li Xiaojun. Each punch struck flesh, each kick threatened to snap a bone, all delivered to non-fatal areas, but with punishing precision. Like a puppet on a string, Li Xiaojun was battered more than a dozen times, barely touching the ground, before being flung out of the ring.

He landed with a heavy thud, sprawling on the ground like a dead dog. His face was swollen grotesquely, almost unrecognizable, but the real damage was to his shattered limbs and broken bones.

Despite the severity of his injuries, Li Xiaojun remained conscious. Du Long had clearly intended for him to feel every moment of pain and humiliation, just as Du Long himself had suffered in his previous life.

Looking down from above at Li Xiaojun, who gazed up at him in shock and venomous hatred, Du Long’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Well? Who’s the good-for-nothing now? How does it feel to be the loser?”

“Du... Long... If I don’t avenge this humiliation... I swear I’m not a man!” Li Xiaojun’s words slurred oddly, no doubt from several missing teeth.

“Excellent. I’ll be waiting for your revenge. Remember—our game isn’t over yet.” Du Long’s words cut like a knife as he turned and walked away, leaving the academy’s physicians to tend to the battered man.

From the dais, the old academy headmaster watched Du Long’s retreating figure with a deep, contemplative gaze. “That rascal could have won easily, yet he beat the Li family’s boy so ruthlessly. Looks like he won’t be getting out of bed for a month or two!”

Among the spectators, all the city’s prominent young nobles—except those who had returned from afar—were well aware of the grudge between Du Long and Li Xiaojun. Seeing Li Xiaojun beaten so mercilessly, no one felt the slightest pity for him. If anything, a chill ran down their spines.

“He stole another man’s fiancée—no wonder Du Long was so ruthless!”

“Exactly! If this weren’t an event where killing was forbidden, he might not have survived!”

“He got what he deserved...”

The crowd began to buzz with conversation. Some out-of-town nobles asked for details and, upon learning the story, unanimously sided with Du Long.

Amid the discussions, many cast strange and disdainful looks at Zhao Lin’er, some even pointing and whispering with words as harsh as knives.

At that moment, Zhao Lin’er wished she could sink into the earth. Her face alternated between pale and flushed with shame. At last, she shot a resentful glare at Du Long, waved to her maidservant, and snapped, “We’re leaving!”

With as much dignity as she could muster, she left the scene, not even caring whether Li Xiaojun lived or died. For the past year, she had endured countless humiliations by staying by that man’s side—only because she had no better choice, and because she had hoped Li Xiaojun would prove himself strong, that she could hold her head high before Du Long.

But today’s result had shattered her last sliver of hope.

Zhao Lin’er’s departure went largely unnoticed; most people had long grown tired of her and could not understand why she still lingered here.

The matches on the field concluded one after another. Yue Xiaoshan advanced by a stroke of luck, as did Liu Zixin. Thus, the thirty spots for today’s selection were finally determined.