LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 141: It’s Not The Outer Appearance That Matters, But What’s Inside
Feng Fan opened his eyes, adjusting to the strange pocket dimension where the Combat category would take place. His vision quickly focused on a figure standing in front of him.
The bright robes were familiar to him—it was someone from the Blue Wyvern Sect!
Normally, Feng Fan would hold back the nausea that came with portal travel, but since a friend was here, he decided to embrace the moment fully.
After all, his therapist back on Earth had once said, "True friendship is about showing your true self. It's not the outer appearance that matters, but what's inside."
With that thought, he let everything out.
"Blergh!"
The sound echoed through the otherwise silent air, leaving the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple frozen in a mix of shock and horror.
"Y-You! I'm going to kill you!" The Blue Wyvern Sect disciple roared, summoning a gleaming sword from his space ring and leaping straight at Feng Fan.
"Blue Dragon's Descent!" he shouted, and an illusionary image of an undernourished blue dragon shimmered behind him, its form more pitiful than fearsome.
Feng Fan sighed, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "It seems my therapist was wrong. Show your true self to a friend, and instead of sympathy, they want to murder you. What a shame."
Unfortunately for the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple, Feng Fan was two small stages ahead in cultivation. A casual strike would've been enough to end the fight.
But why settle for casual? A tiger never holds back when hunting a rabbit!
Family Jewel Destroyer Kick!
An exaggerated, muscular, and absurdly hairy leg shimmered behind Feng Fan as he launched his attack.
Before the disciple's sword could land, Feng Fan's foot struck with pinpoint accuracy, utterly crushing any chance the man had of fathering children.
Crack!
The sound echoed loudly, followed by the clatter of the disciple's sword hitting the ground. He collapsed in agony, clutching his groin as a guttural scream escaped his lips.
The spectators watching the screen showcasing Feng Fan fell silent, their faces twisted in varying degrees of pity and horror.
Even those who harbored grudges against the Blue Wyvern Sect couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy.
"Poor guy," someone murmured. "The competition's just started, and he's already… like this."
Male spectators instinctively crossed their legs, some visibly wincing as if they'd felt the blow themselves.
Feng Fan couldn't help but feel a pang of… pity? Well, something close to it. After all, he was a man, and he understood the pain on a certain level.
"What a shame," he muttered under his breath. "If I'd dealt with him a few days later, I could've robbed him of his qi stones and his orbs…"
Of course, any sympathy he felt wasn't for the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple's suffering. No, Feng Fan's pity stemmed entirely from the loss of potential loot.
Feng Fan crouched, ready to loot the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple's belongings, but before he could grab anything, the defeated man vanished in a flash of shimmering light.
"Damn it!" Feng Fan muttered, frustrated. "If I'd known they were going to teleport him out, I would've worked faster!"
Unbeknownst to him, the Dao Seeking School had equipped all participants with wristbands containing teleportation mechanisms. These devices were designed to reduce casualties by removing participants from the battlefield when the overseers deemed it necessary.
Of course, while the system could minimize deaths, it couldn't prevent them entirely. Competitions like this always carry risks, and some lives would inevitably be lost.
Feng Fan glanced to the side and noticed the sword the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple had used. Since it wasn't in contact with its owner, it hadn't been teleported along with him.
"Well, at least I got a consolation prize," Feng Fan muttered with a smirk, picking up the sword and sliding it into his space ring.
"Shameless! With a disciple like that, the White Crow Sect should be disqualified immediately!"
A few spectators voiced their outrage, glaring at Feng Fan's brazen behavior.
Yin Bao, observing from above, remained unfazed. He ignored the complaints entirely, his face as calm as if he hadn't heard a thing.
Feng Fan, oblivious to their complaints, naturally didn't care. Even if he had heard them, he would've simply shrugged it off with a smile, claiming his opponent was just too incompetent to keep his belongings safe.
After dispatching the Blue Wyvern Sect disciple, Feng Fan took a moment to survey his surroundings. Behind him stood a towering white wall, which he assumed marked the boundary of the pocket dimension.
In front of him stretched a sparse forest, with trees spaced about five or six meters apart. They weren't particularly tall, reaching no more than five meters in height, giving the area an open and slightly eerie feel.
As Feng Fan took his first step forward, a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Fan'er?" the voice called softly.
Feng Fan froze for a moment, instantly recognizing the melodious tone. There was only one person who ever called him by that name.
Turning to his left, his eyes fell on Qian Xiaoli. She stood there with a warm smile, her white robes adorned with the Qian family's symbol, a coin, gently swaying in the breeze.
Feng Fan's face lit up instantly. "Xiao'er, it's been too long. It's great to see you."
He stepped forward and wrapped her in a warm embrace. Qian Xiaoli hugged him back, resting her head against his chest.
"Hmm," she murmured softly, savoring the moment of being held by the man she loved.
After a few seconds, they released each other, and a faint blush colored Qian Xiaoli's cheeks. She glanced around and teased, "Aren't you embarrassed to show such affection? There are so many people watching..."
"Hmph! Why should I be?" Feng Fan declared, puffing out his chest. "I, Feng Fan, might not be an upright gentleman, but I'm proudly shameless!" His tone was so self-assured it almost made it sound like a virtue.
Qian Xiaoli chuckled, shaking her head lightly. She couldn't help but think it was true—and that was part of his charm.