Chapter Twenty-Two: The Spirit Sword Emerges

The faint, elusive sounds of Qingming came from all directions, slipping into Zhang Yang’s ears. He shook his head, glancing around, but sensed nothing at all, and began to panic. With his spiritual perception rendered useless, he could only rely on sound to judge his opponent’s location. Just as Zhang Yang strained to locate Qingming in the darkness through his hearing, a heavy fist, seemingly from nowhere, crashed into his face once again, sending him sprawling to the ground. If it weren’t for the hellish boxing training he underwent daily with Qin Xiaochuan, those two blows from Qingming would have already knocked him out cold.

“Hey, Zhang Yang, you bastard!” Hearing Zhang Yang’s cries of pain from the darkness, Qin Xiaochuan became uneasy. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly into the shadowy room, “You’ve been screaming nonstop! Pull yourself together, you idiot!”

“Stop making such a racket and mind your own business!” Zhang Yang wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, pushed himself up from the floor, and shouted back at Qin Xiaochuan, who stood at the doorway, “Instead of worrying about me, you’d better think up some strategies for your own upcoming match, you jerk!”

“Quit pretending to be tough, kid. After taking hits like that, I doubt you can even stand properly,” came a voice from the dark.

“Pah!” Zhang Yang spat a mouthful of bloody saliva, wiping his lips. “Don’t make me laugh, old man. Your so-called androgynous fists don’t even tickle. I’m no