Chapter 72: What a remarkable Fang Battalion, but you’re still not quite there yet~

Fang Ying—the second-tier martial artist—was only nineteen this year. Compared to Zhang Ze, he was even a year younger. Yet in Liuqing City, there were few young warriors who didn’t know his name. Although Fang Ying came from an ordinary family, he broke through to the second tier at this age thanks to remarkable perseverance.

Within Liuqing City, Fang Ying frequently assisted the Investigation Division in completing numerous wanted missions. Because of this, he had more opportunities to spar with other martial artists. It was this accumulated experience over years of combat that allowed Fang Ying to hold his ground against Zhang Ze, never showing any sign of defeat.

As for Zhang Ze, his tireless efforts over two days and nights had paid off. He consumed two Qi-supplementing pills and spent a considerable amount of wealth, resulting in a tremendous improvement. His cellular strength soared straight to 450S, and the six main meridians of his upper limbs were fully refined after relentless cultivation. The grand cycle connecting all twelve meridians was also underway. Coupled with his ongoing practice of stance techniques at Yongsheng Martial Hall, it was no exaggeration to say that once this martial hall exchange concluded, Zhang Ze could step into the third-tier realm at any moment.

This was why, before the second round began, he brimmed with confidence—because Zhang Ze was now truly formidable.

The two fighters clashed on the stage, exchanging blows with the ferocity of tigers. The spectacle made Qian Qian and the others watching below shudder, their teeth chattering. “So Ze wasn't holed up yesterday playing shooting games?” Peng Fei finally realized how a single day could transform a person so drastically.

Beside him, Qian Qian pursed his lips, unfazed. Hearing Peng Fei’s muttering, he scoffed, “You think Ze is like you? Barely three centimeters and still addicted every day.”

Peng Fei was hardly amused by this jab, and the two immediately began bickering.

On the stage, Zhang Ze was impressed by Fang Ying’s tenacity. He thought his cellular strength above 450S would allow him to handle even the likes of Duan Hong and his cohorts, but now he realized he had underestimated these elite martial artists. Fang Ying’s combat experience was evidently vast, and he sensed Zhang Ze’s power as well. Both paused, neither making the next move.

Shaking off the numbness in his arm, Fang Ying chuckled, “I didn't expect your cultivation to progress so quickly. Seems you might just have the credentials to stir up those fools. But your techniques are riddled with flaws!”

No sooner had he spoken than Fang Ying lunged at Zhang Ze once more. His right fist thundered through the air, aiming straight for Zhang Ze’s forehead—a blow that could cripple, if not kill. Fortunately, Zhang Ze reacted instantly, blocking with his left forearm and taking the punch head-on.

Yet Fang Ying’s lips curled into a smile; his waist dropped suddenly, and his right foot swept down unexpectedly. It happened in a flash—a clearly premeditated move. Zhang Ze’s pupils contracted; for all Fang Ying’s banter, he was relentless in combat. Luckily, Zhang Ze’s waist was well-trained. He bent low, narrowly dodging the sweeping kick.

Fang Ying paused, surprised at Zhang Ze’s swift response. But the action was not over—Zhang Ze twisted his body and kicked toward Fang Ying’s supporting left leg. Having expended his force on the punch, and with his sweep failing, Fang Ying was caught off guard.

A dull thud sounded as Fang Ying crashed heavily to the ground, groaning involuntarily. Zhang Ze did not rush to capitalize, instead retreating a safe distance and grinning mischievously.

Fang Ying understood Zhang Ze’s tactics, but he was not ready to admit defeat. He dusted himself off casually and laughed, “A misstep let you gain the upper hand, but it won’t be so easy next time!”

Zhang Ze rolled his eyes inwardly—how was it just a misstep? Wasn’t it obvious he had earned the advantage? Still, he could see that Fang Ying was proud. For such people, there was only one solution: fight until they yield.

“I’d like to see how long you can keep up the bravado, Fang Ying,” Zhang Ze thought, feeling a surge of competitive spirit as Fang Ying charged again.

Up in the leadership seats, Zhao Jinghong watched the scene unfold with a hint of amusement. From the outset, his attention had been fixed on Zhang Ze. It was impossible for Zhao Jinghong not to know Zhang Ze’s reputation—the young man who dared to stir up trouble at the Investigation Division headquarters was the first in years!

As a seventh-tier martial artist himself, Zhao Jinghong understood Lin Feng’s temperament well—a man not known for leniency. Anyone who crossed Lin Feng rarely came to a good end. In fact, this was a key reason why evil cult warriors rarely appeared in Anqing Province. Compared to coastal or other inland cities, He Yue City could be called a forbidden zone for cult martial artists.

“Seems Anqing Province isn’t lacking in powerful troublemakers,” Zhao Jinghong mused.

These thoughts of the seventh-tier master were unknown to the students in the stands.

On the Yangyue Martial Hall side, Zhang Qingping looked at Leng Bingbing with concern. “Bingbing, are you sure about this? You don’t need to play vanguard for Zhang Ze. Even if he didn’t face those three in the first round—”

“Qingping, there’s no need to persuade me.” Leng Bingbing replied firmly. “I’m not doing this for Zhang Ze. On the contrary, it’s the only way to ensure fairness in this martial hall exchange.”

The two women had been friends for years. Seeing Leng Bingbing’s resolute expression, Zhang Qingping knew she had made up her mind. She sighed helplessly, reminding, “Just be careful. He’s still very strong.”

“Don’t worry. I just want everyone to see who some people really are,” Leng Bingbing said, determination shining on her face.

Zhang Qingping’s heart was uneasy; her gaze shifted to the screen.

“Third match: Yangyue Martial Hall, Leng Bingbing versus Jiuhua Gate, Duan Peng.”

On the stage, another dull thud echoed.

“Admit defeat now, will you?” Zhang Ze said with a smile, looking at the fallen Fang Ying.