Chapter Thirty: Parting the Clouds to See the Sun

Dongjiang Fourth High School was exceptionally wealthy; their martial arts hall was more spacious, with better facilities, and a massive central air conditioning system regulating the temperature. Sitting in the visiting team's area, Gao Wu felt warm air continuously rising beneath his feet. Even though he wore the thin martial arts uniform, he was already feeling hot.

The surrounding stands were packed to capacity; he estimated there were at least four thousand spectators present. The students of Fourth High were clearly more organized, and someone was currently leading the entire crowd in song. The lyrics spoke of daring to pursue new ideas and striving ahead—surely the school anthem, its melody stirring and grand, with thousands singing in unison, their voices surging and ebbing like waves throughout the hall, creating an impressive atmosphere.

Huang Long and the other martial arts team members wore solemn faces tinged with a hint of restraint. The unified aura conjured by thousands singing together was the most direct manifestation of collective organization. Although it was not their first time witnessing such a scene, they still found it somewhat disconcerting.

Coach Huang Hai, however, was utterly unconcerned. He could gather his source energy and steady his spirit, far surpassing ordinary people. Such a chorus, though seemingly unified, was actually chaotic upon close listening and could never shake his resolve. His gaze swept over his nephew and the others, noting their faint unease, save for Gao Wu, who looked around curiously, his posture upright yet relaxed, exuding a natural ease. This temperament was far superior to that of his nephew and the others.

Most importantly, Gao Wu possessed a unique constitution; his height had increased markedly in recent days, his muscles tightly drawn like strands, his robust physique imbued with an extraordinary, elegant beauty. Judging from this, the young man had also begun to grasp the essence of the Dragon Sword technique. If he continued to grow, he would surely become a senior warrior in the future…

Huang Hai sneered inwardly. Unfortunately, such opportunity would soon be lost!

The match began, and the first three contestants from Ninth High fought fiercely, losing one in the process. Huang Long, stepping up as the team's champion, easily defeated the opposing vice-captain, then pushed himself to the limit to overcome the third contestant, the main captain of Fourth High. Such a record was thanks to Huang Long's recent injections of advanced Blood Dragon serum, paired with a neutralizer, which had greatly improved his strength and speed in all aspects.

Under the stimulation of the Blood Dragon serum, his body was in a highly excited state, with pain perception diminished by half. In lower-level competitions, the effects of medication were unmistakably evident.

Before Fourth High's champion Yang Lin could take the stage, Huang Long, after two consecutive victories, voluntarily withdrew. He was well aware of his limits; no matter how much he relied on medication, he couldn't match the senior warrior Yang Lin, nor did he wish to be humiliated.

To lose before thousands of spectators was not only a physical ordeal but, even more terrifying, a devastating psychological blow.

Yang Lin was strikingly handsome, with long legs, dressed in pure white martial arts attire. Standing on the ring, he had the aura of a celebrity. Yet his expression was cold, making him seem unapproachable. This aloofness, ironically, made him popular among the youth.

Cheers erupted from the stands, especially among the girls, their sharp voices converging into a truly stunning effect.

"Yang Lin practices Pegasus Fist," Huang Hai reminded Gao Wu, "his leg techniques are lofty and swift, punches fast and powerful, with endurance to match. Do your best, but don't force yourself."

He added, "You are at a critical stage—don't jeopardize your foundation."

---

Gao Wu nodded in response. In truth, Huang Hai was not a particularly competent coach; his explanations of the opponent's style were far too brief, and he offered no advice on how to counter Pegasus Fist. That last concern sounded odd to Gao Wu, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why…

Yang Lin looked coldly at Gao Wu, who was stepping onto the ring—a rising figure of late, someone fond of making videos and putting on a show, a boy from the lower rungs who could only rely on basic medication to struggle forward. Pity, Gao Wu's talent was mediocre; no matter how much ordinary people tried, they could never truly shine.

The loose, draping black martial arts uniform highlighted Gao Wu's tall, upright figure. Yang Lin thought the boy looked taller than in the videos. Even as Gao Wu smiled brightly, there was something about him that felt oppressive.

Yang Lin knew Gao Wu had already become a senior warrior, and could only marvel at how those from humble backgrounds truly feared nothing.

In just a few weeks, a boy of average talent had leapt from intermediate to senior warrior; it was clear the drugs used were incredibly potent. Realizing this, Yang Lin grew wary. Even if Gao Wu had reached senior status through medication, he could not be underestimated. Fighting on his home turf, Yang Lin could not afford to lose to this upstart.

The crowd began to recognize Gao Wu as well. "Hey, that's the little internet celebrity!"

"Nonsense, he's just a minor streamer."

"He thinks he can challenge our idol—he must be looking for trouble!"

"Still, he's pretty good-looking!"

"Are you crazy? How could a mere streamer compare to our idol?"

A group of girls idolized Yang Lin. Hearing anyone praise Gao Wu, they immediately retorted with sharp sarcasm. These female fans were tightly knit and fiercely protective; regardless of whether others agreed, no one wished to provoke them.

On the ring, the referee checked Gao Wu's mouthguard, headband, and shoes, confirmed everything was in order, and announced the start of the match.

Gao Wu and Yang Lin saluted each other with clasped fists, neither rushing to attack, circling and probing cautiously. With the crowd cheering him on, Yang Lin had no choice but to make the first move, advancing aggressively.

With each punch, Yang Lin's muscles and bones rang, his fist driving through the air with a thunderous crack. Even before his punch landed, the gust generated whipped Gao Wu's hair.

Gao Wu squinted slightly against the forceful wind. The opponent's aura was formidable; his punch was reminiscent of an ancient general spearing from horseback—his body like a horse, his fist like a lance.

Senior warriors from prominent families were indeed different; their martial arts foundation was deep, and every movement displayed the true essence of advanced technique.

By contrast, Gao Wu had spent little time honing his skills in the Dragon Sword or palm techniques; in terms of boxing prowess, he was not Yang Lin's equal. Fortunately, his physical constitution was formidable, and he had the Azure Dragon Divine Energy spell on his side—an advantage no other senior warrior possessed. His strength, measured at 9.3, easily surpassed Yang Lin.

Facing Yang Lin's lance-like punch, Gao Wu anchored his toes to the ground, knees slightly bent, waist lowered to gather force, arms crossed in an oblique X to block, absorbing the blow steadily.

Yang Lin's fist struck Gao Wu's forearm, sending a numbing shock through his own hand. Even the long, spear-like punch could not pierce Gao Wu's defense.

---

He was prepared for this and launched a relentless barrage, body tensed like a bow, fists flying like arrows—fast, urgent, and fierce.

This storm of attacks, however, was met by Gao Wu's "Closed Door Welcomes No Guest" technique from the Dragon Palm. His arms closed tightly like a door, his body shifting to absorb and retreat, neutralizing each blow.

Closed door for defense, welcoming no guest for evasion. The guard was flawless, the retreat nimble and swift.

No matter how ferocious Yang Lin's assault, he could not break through.

It wasn't that Gao Wu's Dragon Palm was so exquisitely trained, but rather his strength exceeded Yang Lin's by twenty or thirty percent, his agility was nearly equal, and his constitution far superior, allowing him to respond with ease.

Yang Lin threw over a hundred punches, and even with his remarkable endurance, the expenditure was too much; his breathing grew rapid. Anxious now, he had hoped to use Pegasus Fist to break through, but hadn't expected Gao Wu to be so resilient.

If this stalemate continued, his stamina would fail him first.

Catching Gao Wu in retreat with a powerful punch, Yang Lin swept his leg horizontally at Gao Wu's ribs—a move so swift and floating that Gao Wu had no time to block. He could only tense his muscles, inhale, and absorb the blow.

A dull thud sounded as Gao Wu was knocked sideways.

Seeing Yang Lin succeed, the crowd erupted in sharp cheers.

Yang Lin seized the moment, twisting his knee for a diagonal kick, his foot hooked like a scythe, slashing at Gao Wu's neck.

Gao Wu, however, adjusted simultaneously. Ignoring the diagonal kick, he thrust his hand like a blade straight at Yang Lin's chest.

Yang Lin's hooked leg struck Gao Wu's neck but failed to topple him. Crossing his arms to block Gao Wu's hand, he found Gao Wu's arm snaking through the gap, fingers joined and sharply pointed at Yang Lin's heart.

This was the "Piercing Clouds" move from the Dragon Sword, embodying the agile, winding path of the dragon through the clouds.

Over twelve hundred kilograms of force transmitted through his fingertips—far more damaging than a punch. Even as Yang Lin inhaled and compressed his chest to absorb most of the force, the pain in his heart was excruciating, his handsome face contorting with agony, his movements abruptly halted.

Seizing the opportunity, Gao Wu flipped his hand and struck Yang Lin's chest with the heel of his palm.

This was the "Parting the Clouds" move from the Dragon Palm, focused on the act of parting.

Parting the clouds could be done horizontally or vertically, with myriad variations. Its true finesse lay in its concealed, swift force. Yang Lin, barely steady, was shoved off balance by the palm's push, staggering backward.

At this moment, Yang Lin was utterly defenseless. Gao Wu stepped forward with force, both palms rising to support Yang Lin's jaw.

The human jaw is densely packed with nerves, extremely fragile. This move, following the "Revealing the Sun" after "Parting the Clouds," delivered over a thousand kilograms of force with both palms.

Yang Lin's head snapped back violently, and he collapsed unconscious, flying several meters and crashing hard to the ground.

The reversal was so sudden that, with the home crowd still cheering, Gao Wu's double-palm "Pushing the Moon" seemed to strike the collective throat of the audience, silencing all their shouts in an instant.