A Brutal Sparring Session

Tu Ran wasn't tired anymore at this point—fighting them would be a breeze, wouldn't it?

She scrambled up from the ground, slung her blade over her shoulder, and leaned against the pillar at the edge of the arena, grinning like a loitering street punk as she invited them up. "Come on up! No point in wasting time."

The crowd below exchanged glances, each deferring to the other.

"You go."

"You go first."

"I'll wait a bit."

"Hurry up—didn't you always brag about having the best blade work?"

"Right, the best swordsman goes first."

"When did I ever say my blade work was good? I never said that—you must have misheard!" The man flushed with indignation.

"Then Wang Baobao goes—you handed over the sword, so you're up first."

Watching them push the responsibility back and forth, Tu Ran finally understood Xie Xu's joy.

So this was how he felt when he watched her lie on the ground slacking off.

Tsk, tsk. It really felt great.

"Hey, stop passing the buck! It's still early—everyone'll get a turn. There's no difference between going first or last," Tu Ran called out.

For her, it truly made no difference.

The crowd below fell into dead silence.

"Um... Baobao, you go first," Tu Ran said, directly singling out Wang Baobao.

She honestly just picked him because his name was too easy to remember.

Wang Baobao's face went ashen in an instant, his chubby cheeks drooping, a glimmer of tears welling in his eyes.

But even with all his reluctance, with Xie Xu glaring at him from above, he didn't dare stall.

With heavy steps, he climbed onto the arena and cautiously took the blade from Xie Xu's hands.

Xie Xu patted him on the shoulder, then stepped down to give him the space.

Xie Xu had placed his hopes on him—if he lost too quickly, he'd be letting Xie Xu down.

He couldn't lose.

Wang Baobao silently steeled his resolve.

"Let's begin. Go!" Tu Ran kindly offered an encouraging gesture.

"Sister Tu Ran, please go easy on me." Wang Baobao couldn't help but plead pitifully, hoping she'd show mercy with her blade—he didn't want to end up crippled.

"Of course, of course." Tu Ran promised.

Xie Xu had assigned his subordinates to spar with her for two reasons: first, to give her a breather while solidifying her blade work; second, to let her point out the flaws in his men's technique.

It was a method that benefited both sides.

There was no need for her to fight too brutally.

Wang Baobao charged in with his blade.

His openings were plentiful, offering little challenge. Tu Ran raised her sword to block.

As the blades clashed, she twisted her wrist with borrowed force, pressing down with all her weight to pin his sword, while at the same time driving it toward his pale, tender neck.

Seeing the edge about to graze his throat, Wang Baobao cried out in panic: "Ahhh! Sister Tu Ran, I surrender!"

Tu Ran quickly pulled back.

The whole exchange took less than a minute.

"Next," Tu Ran said.

Wang Baobao slunk off the arena, crestfallen.

As he passed Xie Xu, who had watched the entire match, Xie Xu said coolly, "From now on, double your daily training."

"Yes." Wang Baobao bowed his head, guilt weighing on him.

With Wang Baobao leading the way, the second person quickly stepped up.

"Miss Tu, please go easy."

Tu Ran nodded.

The man suddenly leaped into the air, spreading his arms like a great roc taking flight—an impressive display of force.

Tu Ran grew cautious, estimating he must be an expert and that she'd need to take him seriously.

However, the expert went flying three seconds later.

With a single stroke, Tu Ran knocked his blade away, then followed up with a kick that sent him tumbling off the platform.

"Not enough grip strength," Tu Ran commented.

The man picked himself up from the ground, clutching his chest as he limped away.

He unavoidably passed by Xie Xu.

"If you have the energy for flashy moves, you'd be better off practicing how to hold your sword. To lose your weapon the moment you step into battle—how many lives do you have?" Xie Xu said coldly.