Internal conflicts among the disciples of Lingxiao Pavilion claimed many lives each year, but Zhou Dingjun couldn't help but be slightly shocked as he watched this senior brother who was bravely advancing without any hint of retreat.
If he were in Yang Kai's place, Zhou Dingjun admitted that he couldn't go that far; he would probably concede once he realized he was outmatched.
"Where there's life, there's hope" — that was his philosophy for survival. "Never stop until you hit a brick wall" — that was persistence.
Seeing Yang Kai's disheveled appearance but the fighting spirit in his eyes growing stronger, Zhou Dingjun knew that if he didn't knock him unconscious, today's matter would not be settled.
With this thought, Zhou Dingjun swung his hand in a knife-hand strike to the neck bone of the charging Yang Kai. Yang Kai's fierce aura instantly dissipated, his eyes glazed over, and he collapsed limply.
Seeing this, someone standing on the crown of a large tree over ten zhang away took out a small booklet, casually opened a page, and read: "Trial Disciple Yang Kai versus Ordinary Disciple Zhou Dingjun, Zhou Dingjun wins."
The figure on the tree crown had a graceful figure, clearly a woman, but a black veil obscured her face, preventing people from seeing her true features. However, her delicate brows indicated that she was young, and the fallen-leaf armband she wore revealed her identity: a Dark Hall disciple of Lingxiao Pavilion!
The Dark Hall of Lingxiao Pavilion was a special organization, under the jurisdiction of the Third Elder. The hall's disciples were responsible for recording all major and minor affairs of the sect, including the outcomes of duels between disciples.
Therefore, when challenging in Lingxiao Pavilion, one didn't have to worry about not receiving Contribution Points after winning, because the hidden Dark Hall disciples would always record the results and compile them at the end of each month.
After recording the outcome of this battle, the Dark Hall woman took out another, smaller booklet from her waist, opened it, and glanced at it. Written there: "The 7th day of the 5th month of the 14th year of Jihe, Yang Kai's 147th battle, defeat."
In addition to this newly added line, the booklet was covered densely with records of all of Yang Kai's battles, detailing the time and number of each battle, with the result always being the same single word: "Defeat!"
One hundred and forty-seven consecutive defeats without a single victory—this was practically an unparalleled record since the founding of Lingxiao Pavilion. This record was enough to shock the heavens and move the gods, unprecedented and without successor. And the creator of this record was at that moment lying quietly on the ground, his fate unknown.
Yang Kai had never challenged anyone; all 147 battles were others challenging him. That meant he was challenged every five days, and this had already continued for over two years.
Looking at Yang Kai below, Xia Ningshang's delicate brows furrowed slightly. She couldn't understand why Yang Kai would persist to such an extent. Already demoted to a Trial Disciple of Lingxiao Pavilion, barely able to survive and feed himself, why did he remain in Lingxiao Pavilion?
If he left, his life would surely be much better. What kind of unwavering heart did this thin young man have that allowed him to still not be discouraged after 147 consecutive defeats?
Perhaps this was male foolishness? Noticing Yang Kai was also a coincidence. As a Dark Hall disciple, Xia Ningshang was assigned to monitor this area. She witnessed every time Yang Kai was challenged and knocked unconscious. At first it didn't matter, but as the number of times increased, Xia Ningshang began to pay attention to this young man who was only at the Body Tempering Stage Three.
She really wanted to know, with his perseverance, when would he finally leave Lingxiao Pavilion. His talent and cultivation speed were simply not suitable for this martial world. The world of ordinary people was his destiny.
Below, the crowd had already dispersed, leaving only Yang Kai unconscious on the ground. People came and went, time passed.
Xia Ningshang's figure flickered, and she disappeared from the tree crown.
When Yang Kai woke up again, the sun was already high in the sky. His whole body ached. He staggered to his feet and looked around, only to find that he was no longer at the spot where he had fainted, but in the shade of a nearby large tree.
This was really strange. Could it be that one of his fellow disciples had taken pity on him and carried him over? This had never happened before. Yang Kai frowned and scratched his head, vaguely remembering that during his blur of consciousness, a hazy figure had flickered before his eyes. But the memory was too fuzzy; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall it clearly.
But between where he now stood and his original unconscious spot, there was a very obvious drag mark, clearly made by dragging a person on the ground.
When he turned to feel his back, a searing pain spread.
Yang Kai was stunned for a moment, then furious! The trace of goodwill he had felt for this good-Samaritan who hadn't left his name instantly vanished. This person must have dragged him directly from there; otherwise, why would his back be scraped until the skin was broken?