CHAPTER 65: BRING A HELMET

The group shifted into the nearby training area—an open, circular stone platform surrounded by tall spirit bamboo.

Sunlight filtered down in golden strands, and a light wind whispered across the field, making the place feel almost sacred.

Mu Qianxue cracked her neck and tossed her empty wine flask aside.

It shattered somewhere in the distance.

She stretched her arms with a yawn, then looked at Hei Long, swaying slightly on her feet.

Despite her drunken demeanor, her eyes had regained their sharpness.

Mu Qianxue was deadly serious now:

"Let’s see what you’ve learned since the last time."

Hei Long cupped his hands respectfully:

"Of course, Master."

Mu Qianxue didn’t wait.

In a blink, she vanished—then reappeared behind him, her palm aimed straight for the back of his neck.

Hei Long twisted just in time, bringing his elbow up to intercept the blow.

The collision echoed like a gong, the shockwave rattling the dust across the ground.

He slid back several meters, but he hadn’t fallen.

"Impressive," Mu Qianxue said with a smirk, her drunkenness all but gone now:

"You’ve broken through, haven’t you?"

Hei Long didn’t deny it.

He stood tall and focused, breathing steady:

"I had a small breakthrough recently."

Mu Qianxue grinned:

"Good. Then no need to hold back."

What followed was a whirlwind.

Their clash turned into a flurry of high-speed exchanges—palms, fists, spirit arts, footwork so sharp it sliced the air.

Hei Long found himself pushed to the limit, but he kept up.

Every strike his master threw, he deflected or dodged.

Every opening she left, he exploited—though she would close them just as quickly.

Watching from the sidelines—

Bai Luoluo’s eyes widened slightly:

"He’s keeping up... with her?"

Even she seemed surprised.

Despite her usual arrogance, she couldn’t help but be a little impressed.

And then there was Lin Fan...

He was in the adjacent sparring ring, facing Bai Luoluo’s practice clone—a wooden training dummy enchanted with mild defensive talismans and basic striking capability.

It wasn’t even half as dangerous as the real thing.

"Alright, Bai Luoluo," Lin Fan smirked, stretching his arms cockily:

"Let me show you how it’s done."

Bai Luoluo didn’t even look up from her weapon maintenance:

"It’s not me. That’s just a training puppet."

"Oh-ho? Then this should be easy." Lin Fan rushed forward, throwing a flashy punch that missed by a mile.

The dummy spun and smacked him across the face with a wooden palm, sending him sprawling onto his back:

"Guh—!"

He scrambled to his feet, coughing:

"I-I meant to do that. Just testing its reaction time."

The dummy waited patiently.

Lin Fan roared and lunged again, this time with a leaping spin kick.

The dummy blocked it cleanly, then jabbed him in the gut with its wooden fist. He flew back several feet and rolled across the ground, groaning.

Bai Luoluo raised an eyebrow:

"You’re losing to a stick with a talisman on it."

"I’m holding back!" Lin Fan barked, spitting out a tooth:

"Can’t let my full power loose in the sect. Might level the place."

Even the old man in his head muttered in disappointment:

’You’re losing to a damn scarecrow with runes on it. Get it together, boy...’

Meanwhile—

Hei Long launched forward with a burst of spirit energy, his fist glowing with golden flame.

Mu Qianxue raised a hand and caught it mid-air, but even she was pushed back a step.

"Hoh?" she muttered, her smile growing wider. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

Their exchange resumed, faster now.

Every move Hei Long made felt sharper.

His body moved with fluid grace, his mind syncing perfectly with his qi flow.

His meridians, still surging with the remnants of the Ancient Golden Pill, glowed faintly beneath his skin, giving him power far beyond.

’Not only can he keep up... he’s improving during the fight,’ Mu Qianxue thought with a mix of shock and delight.

Finally, after dozens of exchanges—

Mu Qianxue raised a hand and stepped back:

"That’s enough."

Hei Long bowed, though his breathing was heavy and his body sore:

"Thank you for the match, Master."

Mu Qianxue gave a tired smile:

"You’re going to surpass me one day. I can already feel it."

Lin Fan, still groaning and lying flat on the ground, raised a hand:

"I... I think I’m done too..."

"You barely lasted a minute," Bai Luoluo muttered.

"I was conserving energy... for emergencies..." Lin Fan wheezed, clutching his ribs.

Hei Long walked over, wiping the sweat from his brow, and looked down at Lin Fan.

"So this is the protagonist of the story," he said under his breath. "Impressive."

Lin Fan opened one eye:

"What... did you say?"

"Nothing," Hei Long replied smoothly.

Mu Qianxue stepped between them:

"Alright, that’s enough for now. Go rest, eat, meditate—whatever helps you recharge. You’ve got about an hour before we start something special, so don’t wander off too far. I want everyone back here on time. Got it?"

Hei Long and Bai Luoluo gave a nod.

Then Mu Qianxue’s eyes zeroed in on one person:

"And Lin Fan?"

Lin Fan looked up warily:

"Yes... Master?"

Mu Qianxue sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose:

"Bring a helmet."

"...Why?" Lin Fan blinked, confused.

"Because what we’re doing next is dangerous, and unlike the others, you’re not quite at the level where you can walk away from it with your skull intact," Mu Qianxue responded.

"..." Lin Fan slowly stood up, straightening his back like a soldier reporting for duty:

"I’ll be fine! I’m a man!"

Mu Qianxue stared at him for a long moment. Then sighed:

"Yes. And unfortunately, so was the last guy who said that... before he bounced off a tree and screamed like a toddler."

"Khhm!" Hei Long coughed to hide a laugh...

Lin Fan took a breath:

"I promise! I’ll be fine! What’s the worst that could happen—besides, you know, critical injuries and permanent trauma?"

"..." Mu Qianxue turned away, muttering under her breath:

"Can the heavens just smite me now and save me from this retard?"