Chapter 81 - Outplayed

“Are we really going to fight?”

Frightened by the power of Zhou Qing’s first soul skill just moments ago, Liu Long had lost all of his earlier arrogance. Fear surfaced in his eyes.

Going up against Zhou Qing is no joke!

If his soul skill hits you, even if you survive, you'll be crippled!

“Of course we’re going to fight. That guy definitely has a soul master clan backing him. Otherwise, there’s no way he could possess such a powerful soul skill at his age,” Xiao Chenyu said with conviction, sure that Zhou Qing came from a powerful background. “If we give in to him now, it’ll only get worse for us in the future. My father might even be affected.”

Such was the weight of clans and soul master families.

Even someone like Xiao Chenyu, the son of a small-city lord, had to back down in front of someone potentially backed by a soul master clan.

However—

After seeing the three who were stepping forward to face them, Xiao Chenyu finally let out a breath of relief.

Wang Sheng, Song Si, and the new student Xiao Wu.

Zhou Qing wasn’t among them.

Now Xiao Chenyu could finally relax.

Fighting work-study students? That’s nothing.

“As you said—best two out of three. No objections, right?” Zhou Qing asked Xiao Chenyu.

“No problem at all!”

Xiao Chenyu responded immediately, then turned to the lackey beside him: “Ling Feng, you go first.”

The student named Ling Feng was rather silent. Without a word, he stepped forward, taking four steps as he looked at Xiao Wu and the others.

The tall and lanky Song Si stepped up first.

“Since both sides are ready, I’ll act as the temporary referee,” Zhou Qing said seriously as he walked between the two. “This is a friendly duel—so stop when it’s enough!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Begin!”

As the final word left Zhou Qing’s lips, he quickly stepped back to stand beside Tang San. At the same moment, Song Si let out a loud yell and released his martial soul—a frying pan—which he swung straight at Ling Feng’s forehead.

But Ling Feng reacted quickly. Without releasing his martial soul, he jumped back a large step, dodging the attack. He instinctively flapped both arms downward as if to adjust his balance mid-air.

“Ling Feng’s martial soul is likely some kind of bird,” Tang San analyzed based on the instinctive motion. “It’s a beast-type martial soul.”

“It’s a swallow,” Wang Sheng revealed. “But he hasn’t obtained a soul ring yet. His soul power is the same as mine—level nine. But Song Si is only level seven, two levels lower.”

“At the soul master trainee stage, the difference in soul power doesn’t make a huge impact on strength,” Zhou Qing shook his head. “Ling Feng’s advantage over Song Si lies in his noble background. He eats well, has better physical condition, and gets sparring training at home. His combat skills far surpass us commoners.”

“But we’re all the same age, so that advantage only goes so far. As long as Song Si can hold out and fight back hard later, he might still intimidate Ling Feng.”

The reasoning was simple:

No matter how skilled Ling Feng was, he was still just a kid. Not a composed adult. If he panicked, he wouldn’t win easily.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Song Si didn’t have much technique. He just swung his frying pan wildly—hitting, smashing, and crashing—only three moves, but each one cost stamina and soul power to maintain his martial soul.

Ling Feng, on the other hand, was constantly dodging at high speed. Even without using martial soul enhancement, his soul power expenditure was greater than Song Si’s.

If the fight dragged on, Song Si would actually have a chance to win.

But of course, Ling Feng wouldn’t be unaware of that. While dodging, he kept closing the distance and punched Song Si repeatedly in the waist, drawing cries of pain from him.

It was only a matter of time before Song Si lost.

Tang San frowned, unable to watch anymore. He quietly bent down and picked up a fingernail-sized stone. But just as he was about to secretly help Song Si, Zhou Qing, who had been watching him closely, grabbed his right hand.

“Hmm?” Tang San was confused.

“I’ve told you before—we can’t protect them forever,” Zhou Qing said softly, barely moving his lips. “If you help him win this time, and he doesn't know the truth, he might think he’s stronger than he actually is. When he steps onto the real path of soul masters, what do you think will happen? He could misjudge his strength, suffer a serious injury—or even die.”

“And if you tell him afterward that you helped him win, it could crush his self-esteem.”

“Once someone loses their pride, that’s more dangerous than losing a fight.”

Tang San hadn’t expected that a simple act of kindness might have such serious consequences. But thinking it through, he realized it was true.

If someone misjudged their own abilities, they could very well end up like an egg striking a rock.

And if he admitted to helping, even if it didn’t hurt the person’s pride, it could make them overly reliant on him.

That wouldn’t help anyone.

After all, Tang San couldn’t protect Song Si forever.

(Sure enough, with Brother Qing around, I can avoid making major mistakes. Still, from now on, I need to think more carefully before acting…)

Tang San tossed the stone aside and said, “Understood.”

Wang Sheng had overheard their conversation and said to Tang San, “Tang San, in the second match—whether I’m up against Xiao Chenyu or Liu Long—I hope you won’t help either. Even if I lose, I want to lose with dignity.”

“Alright.” Tang San respected Wang Sheng’s resolve. He asked, “I won’t interfere, but I can offer some advice. Do you know what Xiao Chenyu’s and Liu Long’s martial souls are?”

Since Song Si was bound to lose, the next match would have Wang Sheng face either Xiao Chenyu or Liu Long. Tang San wouldn’t intervene directly, but he could at least help Wang Sheng prepare.

“Liu Long’s martial soul is a staff. Xiao Chenyu’s is a wolf. The latter is a level eleven soul master,” Wang Sheng replied.

“And yours?”

“A tiger.”

“If you go up against Liu Long, aim for his lower body—his thighs, calves, and feet. Just make sure you don’t get hit by his staff.”

Wang Sheng’s martial soul was a tiger, but without actual training in martial arts, his fighting style was probably limited to a few basic moves: pounce, lunge, and swipe.

Liu Long’s martial soul was a staff. Coming from a noble background, he had likely learned some basic stick techniques—at the very least, the fundamentals of striking.

But given their age, Liu Long’s lower body strength and balance wouldn’t be great. Having Wang Sheng target his legs would be the most effective strategy. Once Wang Sheng got in close, Liu Long wouldn’t be able to swing the staff properly.

“If you end up facing Xiao Chenyu, your chances of winning are slim. I can only suggest you aim for his waist.”

Xiao Chenyu was level eleven, already a soul master. His beast martial soul—a wolf—wasn’t as fierce as a tiger, but his level and soul skill gave him a clear edge. It would be hard for Wang Sheng to win.

So if he had to fight Xiao Chenyu, Tang San advised targeting the waist.

Bronze head, iron tail, tofu waist.

Of course, Zhou Qing knew—it wasn’t just wolves. All vertebrates had relatively weak waists and abdomens. Unlike the chest, these areas weren’t protected by ribs—only by muscles, fat, and skin.

“Got it. Thank you, Tang San,” Wang Sheng said sincerely.