Chapter 70: A Special Reward

The referee watched as Tie Biao collapsed onto the ground, uncertain whether Tie Biao, equipped with titanium alloy bones, was feigning helplessness or truly incapable of fighting back. The scene was brutal; yet, for a master like Tie Biao, as long as he was breathing, he would always have the power to retaliate. If he lost so easily, it would be unacceptable to the house. Gao Wu didn’t pursue his opponent further; instead, he mimed a gesture as if drawing a pistol and aimed it at Tie Biao.

Only then did the referee hurry forward to stop Gao Wu, crouching quickly to examine Tie Biao’s injuries. He gently pressed Tie Biao’s neck, feeling a softness that chilled his heart—the spine had been severed. The referee realized instantly: Tie Biao was doomed. With modern medical technology, torn arteries and windpipes could still be saved, but a broken spine amounted to decapitation—nothing could be done.

Medical staff rushed onto the ring, employing a variety of emergency measures as they carried Tie Biao away. Though the Xuetao Cup was an amateur competition, its standards were high, with a dedicated medical room and doctors on site to prevent accidents.

The referee raised Gao Wu’s hand, announcing his victory to the crowd. Gao Wu’s face remained calm, without joy or surprise, as he raised both hands in acknowledgment to the audience. The spectators, after their initial shock, erupted into enthusiastic cheers. The youthful members of the Blooded Youth Corps shouted and celebrated even louder.

To face a formidable foe with fearless courage, and to strike back in adversity while gravely injured—these are the perfect hero dreams of youth. Witnessing this scene firsthand, countless young boys and girls felt their blood surge with excitement.

Shen Yue, filming from the side of the ring, was utterly stupefied with excitement. His phone, equipped with image stabilization, still shook violently from his trembling hands.

The official livestream’s comment section exploded: “Gao Wu is awesome!” “So cool!” “I bow to him!” “All youth rise and salute!” This message quickly united the entire comment section, filling the screen.

Watching the broadcast, Shang Hongyi’s aged face was full of satisfaction: “Little Wu has truly grown up. This martial path really suits him—his future is boundless!”

The old man had not wanted Gao Wu to pursue the martial arts, mainly because the path was so unforgiving. Now that Gao Wu had won the Xuetao Cup at eighteen, his starting point surpassed countless peers, proving his talent in the martial way. Given this, the old man now hoped Gao Wu wouldn’t waste his gifts and would achieve real accomplishments in martial arts.

Shang Qingjun, meanwhile, hadn’t thought so much; she was simply worried about Gao Wu’s injuries. The camera flashed over his wounds, revealing five bloody gashes, likely deep enough to reach bone. Who knew if Tie Biao’s hands carried poison?

As a top student in biological sciences, Shang Qingjun understood that biochemical modifications could affect a person in myriad ways. The bacterial colonies within Tie Biao could be fatal toxins to others. Not to mention, a hunter like Tie Biao would be skilled in all sorts of sinister tricks.

She regretted not coming to the venue, knowing now how dangerous the fight had been. Mainly, the old man’s health couldn’t withstand the noisy martial arts hall, and there was always the threat of cultists—home was simply safer.

On screen, Gao Wu stood firm, his expression calm and composed, appearing untroubled. This let Shang Qingjun relax a little.

In the martial arts hall, someone waved a flag and started singing, soon the voices of youth soared, filling the hall with fiery energy. Hearing the rousing song, Gao Wu raised his hand to salute the Youth Corps.

He stood upright, solemn and dignified, eyes bright and flashing, his salute impeccable. The deep gashes across his back seemed to have no effect on him. His entire person radiated a cold, resolute, and fiercely heroic spirit.

This demeanor made the youth even more excited, their singing louder, piercing the night sky...

Han Yang, sitting among the youths, silently watched Gao Wu salute, staring at the pool of blood beneath his feet. His own hands trembled uncontrollably.

Ordinary youths could only see the intensity of the fight, but Han Yang perceived its brutality.

Judging by Tie Biao’s condition, he was certain: this top martial artist had been killed on the spot by Gao Wu’s hand strike, nearly decapitated.

What was most remarkable was Gao Wu’s composure afterward—no one could fake such serenity. The high-definition screen showed Gao Wu’s eyes, bright and unwavering.

Han Yang had watched countless videos of Gao Wu slaying cultists, always admiring his calm and clever responses, and especially his decisive ruthlessness.

For a young man to perform so well in sudden crises—he was truly exceptional. Han Yang admired him deeply and was willing to come to the venue to support him.

After suffering Tie Biao’s heavy blow, Gao Wu still dared to counterattack, showing both courage and wisdom. To kill Tie Biao with a palm strike showcased his strength.

But what was truly terrifying was Gao Wu’s tranquility after the kill.

Han Yang understood now: this seemingly sunny, cheerful, and helpful youth was, at his core, unyielding and iron-willed.

To possess such resolve and spirit at eighteen—truly astonishing!

Although Yang Ru wasn’t particularly fond of Gao Wu, she was swept up by the atmosphere, feeling a surge of energy within her, unable to resist joining in the singing.

In the VIP seats, Bai Yushuang watched Gao Wu at the center of the ring with a solemn gaze. That crimson figure was like a burning flame, leaving a searing imprint on her soul.

“This youth’s temperament is truly extraordinary—you can't underestimate him,” Bai Man, usually haughty, sincerely praised.

Talent abounded in Anjing, but in terms of temperament, Gao Wu was first-rate.

Knowledge and martial skills could be acquired through learning, but temperament and innate potential were determined from birth.

No matter how you polish bricks, they can never become a vessel; only jade can be shaped into a treasured artifact. This is the difference in innate talent.

Bai Man praised him but didn’t dwell on it. Temperament and potential are only possibilities; for Gao Wu to truly rise, he would need luck, connections, resources, and more.

Given his background, even entering a top academy wouldn’t guarantee much opportunity.

“You, your conditions are too good—you lack that desperate drive found in those from the bottom,” Bai Man admonished her niece, pointing at Gao Wu. “Look at him. Would he have won the championship if he didn’t fight for his life? Would he stand out if he didn’t take risks?”

“Sometimes, a person just needs that one chance.”

Bai Yushuang was silent. Indeed, she had too many opportunities, so many she didn’t know how to cherish them. Despite enjoying all sorts of top resources, at eighteen she still hadn’t become a warrior.

As a direct descendant of the Bai family, this was embarrassing—she had even been beaten by her peers in this small town of Dongjiang.

Feeling increasingly dispirited, Bai Yushuang stood up: “I’m tired.”

“This child,” Bai Man sighed, rising with her. But the award ceremony was hardly worth watching.

She glanced at Song Chunqiu, who was seated in the main position, bowed from afar, and left with Bai Yushuang.

Martial arts master Song Chunqiu noticed Bai Man’s gesture, glanced over, but said nothing. They were just juniors from the Bai family; since they had no connection to Dongjiang’s affairs, their comings and goings were of no concern.

Song Chunqiu turned to ask Song Yunhe beside him, “What do you think of that young man?”

In front of his father, Song Yunhe dared not speak recklessly, unsure of his father’s intentions.

Earlier, Song Chunqiu had called to tell him not to interfere with his daughter’s choices. But it seemed unlikely his father would value Gao Wu so highly.

Even if Gao Wu were ten times stronger, he would still be insignificant in the eyes of a martial arts master. Moreover, his father clearly didn’t know Gao Wu.

After pondering, Song Yunhe cautiously replied, “He’s got a ruthless streak. Also some talent—a promising individual.”

“His temperament surpasses yours.”

Song Chunqiu sneered. Since they were in public, and Song Yunhe was no longer young, he refrained from saying more.

“Go take care of that corpse. Don’t let it affect the award ceremony.”

“Yes.” Receiving the order, Song Yunhe actually felt relieved. He’d rather handle dirty work than stay at his father’s side.

In the VIP seats, brothers Yang Hongji and Yang Hongye now wore gloomy expressions. Losing the final cost them dearly. The high odds had attracted many bets; had they won, they could have earned billions, but losing meant paying out tens of billions.

Though wealthy, they couldn’t muster enough cash for such payouts. Now, they could only skip town and default.

The loss wasn’t just their company’s; it was their painstakingly accumulated reputation.

Both brothers were angry and helpless.

The spine is the root of a martial artist’s strength; once enhanced, it becomes utterly rigid. Tie Biao, aiming to advance to warrior, had not reinforced his spine with titanium alloy, which allowed Gao Wu’s palm strike to sever it.

Of course, the explosive power and speed Gao Wu unleashed in that instant were terrifying, likely exceeding the limits of ordinary martial artists. His palm was as hard as iron, enabling him to cut through Tie Biao’s spine.

This kid’s talent was so extraordinary, and Huang Hai hadn’t made it clear—damn him!

In Jinsheng Hotel, Lü Hongsheng and Huang Hai also looked sour, but there was nothing they could do.

“Damn it!”

The more Lü Hongsheng dwelled on it, the angrier he became. He said to Huang Hai, “Once Song Chunqiu leaves, we’ll deal with Gao Wu.”

“Song Chunqiu and his people will be coming soon—be careful,” Huang Hai said grimly. Gao Wu’s championship made him feel things were spinning out of control, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong.

The Xuetao Cup champion’s celebration banquet was set at Jinsheng Hotel. Not only would Dongjiang’s elites attend, but Song Chunqiu himself would be there.

Martial arts masters possess immense spiritual power and keen senses. If Song Chunqiu noticed something amiss with Lü Hongsheng, it would spell trouble!

“I know what I’m doing,” Lü Hongsheng replied, unconcerned. The banquet had been planned long ago; he waved off Huang Hai’s worries.

The livestream had switched to the host, who passionately praised Gao Wu and interviewed him on site.

Gao Wu now wore a fresh martial arts uniform, looking spirited and bold.

“My victory is thanks to the countless peers who support me. Every time I think of this, I remind myself I cannot lose!

“I am honored to have everyone’s support. This victory is dedicated to all the youth!”

He pointed to the waving flags in the audience, “Youth must chase their dreams like wild horses—venture out, take action, the future is in our hands!”

His words were full of passion, inciting wild cheers and making the atmosphere feverish.

Lü Hongsheng sneered, “This kid can really talk!”

Inside the martial arts hall, Song Chunqiu and several staff members mounted the stage. The martial arts master himself awarded Gao Wu a gilded trophy and a certificate of honor.

Song Chunqiu was handsome, barely looking older than Song Yunhe. Dressed in black military attire, his demeanor exuded the stern, forceful presence of a soldier.

Gao Wu knew Song Chunqiu was Song Mingyue’s grandfather, and facing this master, he felt somewhat nervous.

He was a bit disappointed that there was no immediate cash or material prize. He knew it would eventually be awarded, but the delay made him uneasy.

He also spotted Shang Zhenglin, who smiled at him without saying anything—before a martial arts master, Shang Zhenglin dared not speak out of turn.

Shang Zhenglin hadn’t expected Gao Wu to win the championship; at this moment, he was both happy for Shang Hongyi and a bit ashamed—he had underestimated the youth, who turned out to be truly impressive!

“The final was spectacular.”

Song Chunqiu praised him and smiled, “I promised Mingyue that if you won the championship, I’d give you a personal reward.”

Gao Wu’s eyes lit up, “Thank you, Master Song.”

At the mention of a reward, his nervousness vanished, leaving only the most sincere and pure longing for the prize.