Why do I have so many masters?

"Ah!"

The girl below the stage couldn't help but scream, and it seemed to flip a switch. Wang Anfeng's pupils gathered strands of divine light, he shouted, reversed his right palm to grab Zeng Bo's wrist, and forcefully stepped forward, flipping and pressing him to the ground, his left hand like a sword unsheathing, firmly paused atop the latter's neck.

The middle-aged man serving as the referee's eyes brightened. He nodded and said,

"The winner, Wang Anfeng."

Clutching his wrist, Zeng Bo managed a pained smile and staggered off the stage. Having won two matches in a row, but gaining nothing material, was indeed embarrassing. Wang Anfeng's eyes slightly narrowed as he observed the martial artists of his age below, some arrogant and some serene, all holding sharp blades and all watching him intently.

The master had said that he needed to suppress them all.

It was not that none wished to step forward,

but that none dared to, feeling indignation in their hearts but none daring to draw their swords.

Thus, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, that faint-faced youth with a demeanor as gentle as a breeze clasped his hands together and deeply bowed to the people below, saying.

"Shaolin's Wang Anfeng requests your guidance."

"Please grant me a defeat."

Once said, the arena fell into silence.

A young man stared in disbelief, seemingly unable to trust his ears. After a few breaths, he fiercely slammed his jug down, cursing loudly, and abruptly leapt onto the stage. Wang Anfeng slightly clasped his hands, but the young man didn't even respond, just looked at Wang Anfeng and scoffed,

"Think you can use us as your stepping stone? You're way too arrogant!"

"Lad, I can't be bothered to talk more, take this!"

With those words, he rushed towards Wang Anfeng, his punches shadowy and unpredictable like flowing clouds and swift currents. Wang Anfeng inhaled sharply, fists clenched tight.

Since he was to fight continuously, stamina was indeed an issue.

So he chose...

Quick defeat!

His eyes brightened. He shouted clearly, and his right fist struck straightforwardly with the most common Central Plain Palm, his momentum grand. Having just witnessed the outcome of directly receiving Wang Anfeng's punch, the young man very cautiously dodged to the side, but at that moment, Wang Anfeng's body suddenly accelerated, rushing towards the young man as rapidly as he had Zeng Bo.

His left hand shot straight out to the waist,

his right elbow flexed, like a general raising his spear.

Then suddenly twisting his body and spinning his elbow, his elbow edge emitted a hair-raising whoosh, breaking the distance and pausing sharply at the young man's throat.

With an abrupt halt, a gust of wind blew the young man's black hair upward; in his enlarged pupils filled with fear, he saw the calm and indifferent face of the young man before him, his eyes containing a cold detachment like that of a strategist.

The elbow edge slowly retracted, and the young man's legs buckled, causing him to sit down directly on the ground.

Wang Anfeng clasped his hands and said softly, "Thank you for yielding," then slightly adjusted his robe and bowed slightly to the front.

With still only one sentence.

"Please grant me a defeat."

His voice spread, and there was a moment in the arena when no one dared to respond before silence was broken by a shout,

"This is a provocation!"

"Although I am not his match, I wish to spar with this lad. He can't defeat us all!"

In the midst of angry shouts, a youth leapt onto the stage, not with fist wraps but a wooden longsword in hand, the blade slightly raised as he shouted,

"A disciple of the Wangxian County's Zhang Family aims to take you down a notch!"

"Shaolin's Wang Anfeng, please instruct me."

Thirteen breaths later, the Zhang surname youth staggered to the ground, his face completely pale.

The calm, sincere voice that seemed like a nightmare rang again by his ear:

"Please grant me a defeat."

.........

Today is August 15, as autumn deepens, it's not a suitable time for sparring, but rather to watch the red maples slowly fall and the ginkgos turn gold. Below the mountain is the County City of Wangxian County, and each major Noble Clan and Sect has successors in this city. The names of these Sects and the surnames of these Noble Clans represent outstanding experts.

Every year's Young Phoenix Feast marks the first time these experts soared in their memory, as young names are listed on the Young Phoenix List, spreading across the thousand miles of Wangxian County. In their unripe moments, they absorb experiences through battles and grow rapidly.

However, in battle, there must always be winners and losers, and there will always be those who act as stepping stones.

Fewer or more...

Pop!

Accompanied by a crisp sound, a young girl's twin daggers were knocked out of her hands by Wang Anfeng's fists, falling to the ground. As she gritted her teeth ready to continue fighting, a fist had already paused right at her throat, and along with it appeared that incomparably ordinary yet calm voice.

"Thank you for yielding."

Her eyes widened in unwillingness, and beyond that, a fear emerged that she herself could hardly believe.

This... how is that possible?

Eight battles in a row, eight victories in a row!

Doesn't he feel exhausted?

Wang Anfeng breathed out slightly, feeling a hint of fatigue emerging within him, yet his expression remained unchanged. He raised his fists, maintained a dignified posture, and bowed slightly towards the crowd below.

Tread!

Almost the instant he finished his bow, all the young heroes and noble clan heirs turned slightly pale, uniformly stepping back, clearing a large space in front of him. Yet, his sincere face appeared terrifying like a fiend in their eyes.

Wang Anfeng paused briefly, and at that moment, a long laugh suddenly rang out from the distance. A wooden sword, swift as lightning, landed on the stage, followed swiftly by a figure in white who stepped onto the stage, grasping the sword's hilt, though the wooden sword emitted a long, lingering sword hum at that very moment, casting a brilliant radiance in Wang Anfeng's eyes.

The latter's pupils constricted, he quickly retreated, and at the same time, his left hand struck horizontally towards the wrist of the approaching opponent. Vigorous Qi burst forth, and the newcomer, knowing its power, did not take it head-on. Instead, he pivoted, and his longsword, like a venomous snake, struck at Wang Anfeng's neck.

But at that moment, Wang Anfeng's right hand had already been raised, he twisted his body, and his fingers precisely pressed on the spine of the wooden sword, blocking the strike.

Following that, Vigorous Qi burst forth!

Boom!

Though not exceptionally strong, it was enough to stir the air and cause a tumultuous clash of Vigorous Qi. Wang Anfeng kept retreating, while that figure had already landed on the stage. The middle-aged man acting as the referee frowned and yelled:

"Who is it!"

"Who dares to be so presumptuous here!"

The man did not answer, but only chuckled, raising his wooden sword and viciously sweeping it across. As if he knew beforehand, it struck precisely on the middle-aged man's right fist. The surprised referee stumbled backward, his arm's sleeve burst into shreds, fluttering down like butterflies, and he exclaimed in shock:

"Who?!"

"It's just that I haven't seen such an interesting young fellow in a long time, felt like having a bit of fun, hehe, you needn't worry about me."

The newcomer flicked his robe, revealing himself to be a rather carefree middle-aged man, casually waved his hand at the referee, and smiled at Wang Anfeng:

"Quite bold for such a young age, how about it, I'm also here below, tell me, can I have a match with you?"

"Of course, I will temporarily seal my Inner Strength and limit it to ten moves, how does that sound?"

Wang Anfeng breathed out slightly, his fear gradually subsided, turning into calm and excitement, and he slowly clasped his hands:

"Shaolin, Wang Anfeng."

The man laughed loudly, saying:

"Hahaha, courageous indeed, Xu Ziyang, Dragon General of Wangxian County!"

"Watch the sword!"

Accompanied by an excited and hearty laugh, Xu Ziyang sealed several acupuncture points on his body to block his inner strength. The wooden sword in his palm trembled slightly, and his sword technique immediately unfolded. Compared to before, a purer inner strength transformed into a swift and sharp cold gleam that attacked Wang Anfeng.

In the blink of an eye, it appeared before the latter, who seemed utterly unable to react, provoking a burst of exclamations.

The arbiter's face turned ashen. He gathered his martial power, ready to intervene in case of any mishap.

Like now.

Just as the arbiter was about to step forward with his right foot, Wang Anfeng, who appeared slightly confused at first, suddenly retreated. His speed surpassed that of the wooden sword, causing one to explosively move back and the other to rush forward on the platform. The sword edge hung in midair, neither advancing an inch nor daring to move back a bit.

The white robe and the dark blue garment tangled as if clouds moving across the high heavens, not deadly but rather poetic. At the moment before tumbling off the platform, Wang Anfeng exerted strength from his waist, spun his body around, and smashed his fist onto the faltering wooden sword, emitting a light clang.

A sharp brilliance appeared in the young man's black pupils.

Buzz, buzz, buzz~

Qi force coursed through his fingers, gripping the longsword, and emitted a clear ringing sound. The surrounding youths widened their eyes in shock, but before they could express their astonishment, Wang Anfeng had already transformed his left hand into a palm and harshly slapped the longsword, sending the wooden sword vibrating several inches just before the sword edge could rotate.

Simultaneously, he shifted his body and, with a spinning motion, slammed his right elbow into Xu Ziyang's midsection. The sharpness and ferocity of this move was incomparable to his earlier ones, and its speed was extremely fast. Xu Ziyang's heart skipped a beat as that figure suddenly appeared before him.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Startled, the Qi force inside his body turned into a roaring dragon that surged into the longsword. The sword followed his turning body, defensively circling to protect himself. His inner strength was, after all, much purer than Wang Anfeng's, and at this moment, he exerted his 'full strength' to save face.

The longsword narrowly traced a perfect defensive arc as the fist was about to smash down, and he couldn't help feeling relieved. However, just then, a pale hand suddenly emerged, casting a deep shadow in his field of vision.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Several light sounds followed by a series of acupoint pains as sharp as needle pricks. His inner strength sealed, the imperial body technique ineffective, his hand involuntarily loosened. In the next moment, the longsword in his palm had already changed masters.

Anxious in his heart, but Xu Ziyang did not lose his composure. Stabilizing his stance, he crossed his palms, ready to execute the Yunmo Palm Technique against his foe. But just then, a large foot had already savagely stomped on his shoulder, the force of which made him stagger and lose his balance.

Immediately after, like a fierce storm, a barrage of kicks enveloped his body, devoid of any technique or skill, rough and savage yet rapid and fierce like rain beating on banana leaves. Under everyone's watchful eyes, Xu Ziyang's form was forced to continuously step back, concluding with a wild whipping kick. Barely catching his breath, just as he was looking up, a shadow engulfed him—

Several meters in midair, the youth in dark blue vigorous attire took the opportunity to leap up, clutching his fist with his left hand and holding the wooden sword inverted in his right. At the peak of his jump, the youth's body paused slightly and then rotated to slash downwards.

Boom!

A blast of air erupted, kicking up a cloud of dust. A dark dragon soared into the sky, proudly roaring, shaking the surrounding mountains in response.

Wang Anfeng staggered upon landing, the wooden sword in his hand reduced to dust under the overwhelming true Qi. Enduring the pain in his body, yet his face calm and serene, he unsealed himself and bowed slightly toward the formidable Xu Ziyang, as if a divine general had descended:

"I concede."

He then shifted his stance slightly and looked at the many young heroes, Wang Anfeng clasped his hands and bowed again to the audience below.

"Shaolin's Wang Anfeng."

"Please grant me a defeat."