Chapter Seventy-Three

Yu Xingyue dared not use the Scattered Strikes technique to drain his stamina, so he relied on basic kicking methods to cope. Scattered Strikes could only display its greatest effectiveness at a crucial moment; using it prematurely would put Yu Xingyue at a disadvantage. Except for Xiao Jian, everyone watching from below the platform was puzzled by Yu Xingyue’s cautious approach to offense. In the past, he had always attacked with ferocity, so they believed that his physical condition had declined due to a lack of recent exercise.

Lin Ling, on the other hand, gave Yu Xingyue no chance to catch his breath. The best offense is the best defense—so long as she kept attacking, Yu Xingyue would have no way to strike back. Lin Ling was extremely confident in her stamina, and her relentless assault was already wearing down the energy Yu Xingyue needed for defense.

Of course, Yu Xingyue would not let Lin Ling pummel him for nothing. Taking advantage of the moment she retracted her left leg, he delivered a spinning kick, nearly striking her head—only ten centimeters away. Yet Lin Ling’s reflexes were sharp; she quickly blocked Yu Xingyue’s lethal strike. After this close call, Lin Ling became more serious, no longer lax or off guard. She believed Yu Xingyue would have no chance to land a hit.

Standing below the platform, Wang Chaolin could not help but praise Lin Ling’s quick reactions, “No wonder she’s our senior sister. Her reflexes are just as sharp as ever. Looks like she won’t get to experience Yu’s so-called ‘scrubbing’ kicking technique.” While praising Lin Ling, he also mocked Yu Xingyue, though the two fighters on stage could not hear the banter below.

Beside him, Xiao Jian nudged Wang Chaolin and said, “Don’t be so sure, Senior Brother Wang. Yu hasn’t gotten serious yet, and you know it. He’s just waiting for the right moment. Besides, Yu has his own strategies for dealing with Senior Sister Lin Ling. And stop calling his kicking technique ‘scrubbing’—I actually used it to win a match!”

“Did you win by giving your opponent a bath with those kicks?” Wang Chaolin joked.

“You—” Xiao Jian was about to retort when Xu Yaya shot him a disapproving look. Maintaining silence during a match was important, since everyone could hear their conversation—except, of course, the two fighting on the stage.

Two minutes passed. Since the match was divided into two rounds, Yu Xingyue managed to endure Lin Ling’s frenzied attacks until the end of the round, finally able to catch his breath. He stepped down and collapsed onto the ground, and Xiao Jian quickly helped him to a chair to rest. Lin Ling, on the other hand, showed no signs of exhaustion, though sweat drenched her back.

Those three minutes had served Yu Xingyue as a test, probing Lin Ling’s attack rhythm. He calculated that in the second round, Lin Ling would try to quickly knock him out within a minute. Yu Xingyue resolved to gamble—if he could avoid Lin Ling’s spinning kick, he would unleash his Scattered Strikes technique to knock her out instead.

To ensure fairness, Xu Yaya suggested postponing the next bout until Yu Xingyue had fully recovered. Lin Ling agreed; taking advantage of an opponent’s weakness was unsporting, and it was better to wait until he was ready.

Yu Xingyue rested for nearly half an hour before he felt revived. During his break, the other three nodded off, only to be roused by Xu Yaya once Yu Xingyue was ready to continue.

With the familiar call of “Begin!” the second round commenced. Everyone below the stage watched expectantly, as if witnessing a championship final, eager to see who would prevail in the end.

The same tactics as before: Lin Ling attacked with unyielding ferocity, while Yu Xingyue defended, waiting to unleash his full strength in the final minute—a strategy that relied largely on luck.

This time, Lin Ling switched tactics. Rather than targeting Yu Xingyue’s upper body, she aimed low, seeking to cripple his legs and render even his basic kicking techniques useless. Her fierce kicks targeted his lower limbs, and Yu Xingyue leaped to dodge, but the act of jumping left him momentarily vulnerable. Lin Ling seized the opportunity, grabbed his collar, and threw him over her shoulder. The impact as Yu Xingyue’s rigid body hit the ground made even the spectators wince in sympathy.

Zhou Ruoxue asked in confusion, “Isn’t it against the rules in taekwondo to strike or grab with the hands? Didn’t Senior Sister just perform an illegal throw?”

Xiao Jian replied, “Senior Sister, times have changed, and so have the rules of taekwondo. It’s true that hand strikes were once forbidden, but now the rules allow any throws or punches. Maybe Yu hasn’t realized the rules have changed and is still sticking to the old ways.”

Xu Yaya added, “Xiao Jian is right. Lin Ling is capitalizing on these new rules. As for whether Yu will realize it, who knows? Let’s just hope he survives the next round.”

Struggling to stand after the throw, Yu Xingyue was baffled—he had always adhered to the old rules, so why hadn’t Xu Yaya called Lin Ling out for a foul? The question gnawed at him.

He thought to himself, “Senior Sister Lin Ling clearly broke the rules—why didn’t Captain Xu penalize her? Has the era changed so much that even the rules are different?” Realization began to dawn, and his emotions shifted. When he caught Xiao Jian signaling from below, Yu Xingyue knew he’d guessed right.

“So it is. I can’t keep being passive—it’s time to fight back,” Yu Xingyue resolved. His hands, long itching for action, were finally freed. Xu Yaya smiled at the development: “At last, the fool has figured it out.”

He shook out his left and right hands, assumed a textbook boxing stance, and shouted, “Come on, Senior Sister Lin Ling! I can no longer contain the primordial power within me!”

“Oh, Yu, why are you acting so dramatic all of a sudden? I prefer you the way you normally are,” Lin Ling shot back, exasperated.

“I told you, stop calling me ‘Yu’!” With blinding speed, Yu Xingyue closed the distance and threw a punch at Lin Ling. Though he held back, out of respect—he knew if he injured her and Wu Guanzhong found out, Wu would hack his computer in revenge. Yu Xingyue wanted no such trouble.

“Don’t hold back against me,” Lin Ling laughed. “With me here, Guanzhong won’t do anything to you, so relax and fight me without restraint.”

“Good, I’d rather not see my computer blue-screen with a horror-movie skull,” Yu Xingyue replied. With Lin Ling’s reassurance, he attacked more boldly, though still conserving his strength for a final burst of Scattered Strikes when the time came.

For a minute, Yu Xingyue unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks. Then Lin Ling counterattacked, entering her peak state. Zhou Ruoxue trembled at the sight—she knew all too well how terrifying Lin Ling could be when serious; in the past, Lin Ling had knocked her out in a minute, a memory Zhou would never forget. Yu Xingyue’s chances seemed slim; lasting through the next exchanges would be a miracle.

But Yu Xingyue was no fool—he dodged Lin Ling’s every attack with utmost caution. Several times, Lin Ling tried to grab his collar for another throw, but Yu Xingyue deftly fended off her hands and attempted a throw of his own. Yet Lin Ling’s body was agile enough to land on both feet even after being tossed.