A quarter of an hour passed in silence.

The clamor on the training grounds gradually subsided, all eyes focused on the space between the high platform and the main arena.

The Silver Armor Captain finally descended from the high platform, his steps steady, a bright yellow scroll cradled in his hands.

He stepped onto the main arena, unfurled the scroll, and let his gaze sweep across the crowd. His voice, amplified by his Inner Strength, carried to every corner. "The final rankings for this trial have been decided. They are as follows—"

All eyes were fixed upon him, awaiting the announcement.

The Silver Armor Captain continued in a clear voice:

"First place, Li Mengchao!"

"Second place, Qin Yu!"

"Third place, Zhou Zhiqiang!"

"Fourth place, Yang Jing!"

As he read Yang Jing’s name, the Captain’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, carrying a hint of approval.

"Fifth place, Zhou Tong!"

"Sixth place, Xu Guangwei!"

"Seventh place, He Han!"

"Eighth place, Lin Yue."

With every name announced, a cheer went up from the training grounds.

When Yang Jing’s name was called, the spectator stands likewise erupted with fervent discussion.

It wasn’t just Liu Maolin and the other disciples from Sun’s Martial Arts Hall who were cheering enthusiastically. Many of Yuhe County’s dignitaries were abuzz as well.

Yang Jing’s performance over the past two days had caught the attention of many. Today, his reputation as a dark horse was firmly cemented throughout Yuhe County.

Having announced the rankings, the Silver Armor Captain rolled up the scroll and declared, "This concludes the trial! As for the final selection of candidates, the Court will post a notice at the County Yamen and the city gates. All you must do is wait patiently."

With that, he turned and walked off the arena, leaving the grounds abuzz with excitement and noise.

Sitting on a block of bluestone, Yang Jing heard his name clearly announced. The tension that had kept him on edge finally snapped, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

Even the pain in his abdomen seemed to lessen, replaced by a reassuring sense of finality that washed over him.

He slowly stood, patting the dust from his robes. He exchanged a look with the others who were also rising to their feet. Though their expressions varied, their eyes all held the same look of relief now that it was over.

Even the perpetually aloof Li Mengchao’s expression softened. He offered the other Martial Artists a small smile and a nod. They were, after all, the prodigies of their generation and were bound to cross paths again. But when his gaze fell upon Qin Yu, Li Mengchao’s placid eyes instantly darkened, as if he wanted nothing more than to rip off both of Qin Yu’s arms that very moment.

Qin Yu gave a hollow laugh and was the first to walk away.

The others also left the enclosure one by one. Outside, Liu Maolin was already waiting with the rest of their junior martial brothers.

As soon as he saw Yang Jing emerge, Liu Maolin strode forward with a brilliant smile. "Junior Brother! Fourth place! You sly dog, you were really holding out on your Senior Brother!"

Hearing this, Yang Jing couldn’t help but chuckle.

The other junior brothers also crowded around, chattering excitedly as they showered him with compliments and congratulations.

They surrounded Yang Jing, each vying to speak, their words filled with an undisguised mix of adulation and respect.

Feeling a wave of relief, Yang Jing broke into a smile he hadn’t worn in a long time. He nodded. "Come on, let’s head back to the Martial Arts Hall."

The setting sun stretched their shadows long as they slowly made their way down the stone-paved road, away from the training grounds.

The crowd dispersed like a receding tide. The noise gradually settled, leaving only a few soldiers cleaning up and some Martial Artists who lingered, unwilling to leave.

The golden glow of dusk bathed the empty training grounds, casting a warm light on the scattered weapons and splinters of wood.

As Yang Jing was walking out, surrounded by his martial brothers, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.

Under a nearby willow tree, Zhao Yuman stood in a pale green dress, looking his way.

The instant their eyes met, Zhao Yuman looked away as if she’d been burned, hastily turning her head. The tips of her ears flushed red as she nervously twisted the hem of her dress.

Her heart was in turmoil.

When she saw Yang Jing defeat Shen Lie the day before, she had already begun to feel a pang of regret.

Back when Liu Maolin had tried to set the two of them up, she had looked down on Yang Jing for his rural background, his inferior martial aptitude, and his seemingly bleak future, rejecting him outright.

But who could have imagined that this man she had dismissed would fight his way to fourth place and become the most talked-about new prodigy in all of Yuhe County?

After a moment’s hesitation, Zhao Yuman took a deep breath. She turned back with a deliberately shy expression, planning to offer him a smile and a greeting. Even a simple "congratulations" would help pave the way to mending their relationship in the future.

But when she looked up again, Yang Jing was already far in the distance with his martial brothers. His back was straight and proud, and he never once glanced her way again, as if she were nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust on the roadside.

The color instantly drained from Zhao Yuman’s face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her heart a knot of regret and bitterness. Her nails dug so deeply into her palms they nearly drew blood.

Meanwhile, Yang Jing was completely unaware of Zhao Yuman’s gaze—or rather, he simply didn’t care.

That fleeting glance had only brought one name to his mind: Shen Lie.

He recalled the close relationship between Shen Lie and Zhao Yuman.

What concerned him more was the undisguised hostility in Shen Lie’s eyes during their match the previous day.

He hadn’t understood it at first, but after glimpsing the interaction between Shen Lie and Zhao Yuman, it dawned on him. It was most likely because of her.

’Shen Lie is arrogant by nature. After I defeated him in the match, and with him harboring who knows what sort of sordid intentions, he must already hate me to the bone.’

Yang Jing’s steps faltered for a moment, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

’On the path of the Martial Dao, a divided heart is a great taboo, but insidious plots from the shadows are even more terrifying.’

’Shen Lie’s venomous glare wasn’t born from a momentary fit of pique. If I let this go, there’s no guarantee he won’t become a hidden danger in the future.’

A faint killing intent welled up from the depths of his heart, only to be quickly suppressed.