Chapter Seventy: Come and Hit Me!

Chapter Seventy: Come Hit Me!

The tournament pressed on, with Shangguan Yunfei and Murong Lingfeng taking their turns in the arena. Though Murong Lingfeng had agreed to leave the venue, participation in the competition was still required. Both won their matches easily.

Soon, it was Stone White’s turn. His opponent was Li Shuangxing, whose family had passed down a lethal chain-kicking technique, honed over ten years. Li Shuangxing was brimming with confidence. He stood with arms raised, chin held high, his long legs resembling two thick steel rods; even loose pants could not conceal the explosive strength beneath.

“Kid,” Li Shuangxing said, “I advise you to surrender now. Fists and kicks don’t see eye to eye, and I can’t guarantee your safety. Otherwise, if I accidentally break a rib or snap your leg, it won’t be fun anymore.”

But three voices from the back rows piped up, dissatisfied. “What’s the point of all this chatter? Just fight!”

“That’s right, why waste words on a weakling? Just teach him a lesson!”

“Make him look like a pig’s head!”

Murong Lingfeng snorted coldly, “Why couldn’t I have drawn this guy? I’d have taught him a lesson myself.”

Shangguan Yunfei and Wang Zhongtian shook their heads with wry smiles. “Li Shuangxing, you’re still too young.”

Stone White slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled faintly. “Since you’re so confident, come on then.” With that, he leaned his face toward Li Shuangxing.

“Hit me right on the face.”

The crowd erupted.

“Damn! This kid’s so arrogant!”

“He wants his face hit? Li Shuangxing, don’t hold back—give him what he wants!”

“I don’t understand where his confidence comes from. He’s got no inner strength at all and still acts so cocky. Does he have a death wish?”

Murong Lingfeng’s brow furrowed, as if sensing something amiss.

But the three in the back row were unmoved, waving their fists and shouting, “Hit him! Hit him hard! Show no mercy!”

Li Shuangxing stared at Stone White’s offered face, bewildered. All his years of training, people had always protected their faces in a fight, sometimes even begging not to be hit there. Why would Stone White offer his face so freely?

Was he trained in some secret face technique?

Li Shuangxing couldn’t help but chuckle, “Kid, are you sure your head’s screwed on right?”

Stone White had been holding his face out for so long his neck was getting sore. Impatient, he snapped, “Why are you wasting so much time? Are you going to hit me or not? If not, get lost! Don’t waste my time!”

The crowd gasped again. “Damn! He’s about to get hit and still acts so arrogant!”

“Li Shuangxing, stop hesitating—give him what he wants!” shouted the three in the back.

The audience, amused, joined in the uproar, “Yeah, give him what he wants!”

“Hit him!”

Li Shuangxing lowered his arms, frowning. “You asked for it!”

Stone White replied, “Go ahead!”

Li Shuangxing gritted his teeth and swung a fierce punch at Stone White’s right cheek. A sharp crack echoed—Li Shuangxing’s hand broke.

Silence descended. Li Shuangxing lay on the ground, wailing like a banshee.

Doctors rushed in, quickly placing him on a stretcher.

The audience finally processed what had happened, and the host remembered to speak. The referee hurried to announce, “Leaf White wins this round!”

The male host exclaimed, “Unbelievable! Leaf White, with no inner strength whatsoever, possesses a face as tough as steel! But come to think of it...” He paused, puzzled. “I’ve never heard of any martial art that trains the face.”

The crowd was equally perplexed, especially the heads of the major clans. They’d expected Stone White to be powerful, but not in this way.

Murong Lingfeng, though surprised, remained scornful. “So what? He just moved the iron shirt technique to his face. What’s the point? If I struck, I’d hit his vital spot!”

The round of sixty-four passed quickly, soon moving to the round of thirty-two—today’s main event.

In the round of thirty-two, Shangguan Yunfei and Murong Lingfeng both won swiftly; their cultivation far surpassed ordinary competitors, so victory came with little effort.

Next was Stone White, whose opponent was a young swordsman named Li Qing, possessing twelve years of inner strength and a formidable sword technique.

Stone White said nothing, simply turned and presented his backside. “Go ahead, strike here.”

The crowd erupted once more. “Damn! He’s not even afraid of swords?”

“No way!”

Murong Lingfeng sneered, “So you trained your backside too? But Li Qing isn’t so foolish.”

Li Qing chuckled, “You want me to strike your backside?”

Stone White patted his rear. “That’s right. Go ahead!”

Li Qing raised his sword, glanced at Stone White’s backside, then suddenly slashed at Stone White’s calf.

The crowd cried out, “Cunning!”

Stone White had invited him to strike his backside, implying it had been specially trained, so Li Qing wisely targeted another spot. Clearly, he was clever.

But with a clang, Li Qing’s treasured sword shattered into three pieces, scattering on the ground.

Silence reigned. Even Murong Lingfeng stared, wide-eyed.

“This kid really has some skills!”

Stone White turned, glanced at the broken sword, then at Li Qing. “Nice try—attacking elsewhere. But unfortunately, you’re up against me.”

Though stunned, Li Qing refused to yield. He thrust the broken sword at Stone White’s chest.

Another barrage of splintering sounds—the broken sword shattered further, until only the hilt remained in Li Qing’s hand.

Terrified, Li Qing threw the hilt away and launched a punch at Stone White’s nose.

Another sharp crack—Li Qing’s hand broke.

Utter silence.

Not just the audience—even Murong Lingfeng and the clan leaders were visibly shaken.

“This kid’s iron shirt technique has reached perfection!”

Shangguan Yunfei and the others were astonished. They knew Stone White was powerful, but hadn’t realized his body was so invincible.

Ye Rulong and his peers felt immense pride—after all, Stone White was their master, and it brought them honor. Li Jiankui even cast aside his dignity and shouted, “Go for it!”

The rest of the Ye family cheered, too. Ever since Ye Fan, Stone White was the second to offer them hope. Though his background was unclear, anyone who brought them glory was welcome.

Thus, the formerly mocking audience broke into thunderous applause.

“Leaf White! Amazing!”

The first day came to a close. Soon, the second day arrived, with the round of sixteen, then the round of eight.

Stone White claimed victory easily in the round of sixteen, but the quarterfinals posed a minor challenge—his opponent was a girl.

She was about seventeen or eighteen, attractive yet fiercely proud, named Cold Frost.

She wore her hair in a high ponytail, dressed in tight clothes, wielding an iron whip, and watched Stone White as if he were some unruly beast.

Stone White disliked her whip and her condescending attitude, but he showed no special treatment. He simply turned and patted his backside. “Go ahead.”

Cold Frost stared at Stone White’s backside for a long moment, then remarked, “Heh! Quite round.”