Smack!
The pale, almost feminine fist aimed straight for Xu Ming's face, but he reached out and caught it mid-strike.
Slowly moving the fist out of his line of sight, Xu Ming finally got a clear look at its owner—a delicate-looking boy?
The boy wore the training uniform of the Blood Asura Battalions. His frame was slender, and he looked about thirteen years old. His eyes were striking—classic almond-shaped phoenix eyes.
Phoenix eyes were nothing like narrow, squinting eyes. They were widely regarded as one of the most beautiful eye shapes, though rare. Characterized by long, fine eyelid creases, slightly curved inner corners, and gracefully upturned outer edges, their proportion of iris to sclera was perfectly balanced. The outer corners extended naturally, exuding an air of elegance and spirit.
Compared to the innocent charm of almond eyes or the allure of peach-blossom eyes, phoenix eyes carried a distinct sense of aloofness. For women, this eye shape lent a classical, ethereal beauty—captivating when soft, yet regal and intimidating when cold, like frost.
For men, phoenix eyes suggested innate courage, righteousness, and a sharp wit. They could exude tender charm or inspire admiration from women with their natural charisma.
But this boy? Xu Ming couldn't help but feel he looked more like a girl disguised as a boy—or perhaps a man with feminine features.
Men with such features weren't uncommon. On Xu Ming's previous homeworld, Azure Ocean Star, such individuals often became strikingly beautiful when dressed as women. They were sometimes referred to in the past as "pretty young masters" or, more recently, as "femboys."
That said, Xu Ming wasn't particularly interested in such aesthetics.
The boy, seemingly surprised by Xu Ming catching his punch, quickly smirked—a smile laced with an almost enchanting charm.
Without missing a beat, the boy launched a sidekick at Xu Ming, who raised his arm to block. The sheer force of the kick, however, sent Xu Ming flying off the bed, his shoes scraping against the floor for a meter before he came to a stop. His radius and ulna throbbed faintly in pain.
But it wasn't over.
The boy closed the distance in an instant, throwing a straight punch at Xu Ming's chest. The sheer force of the strike seemed to tear through the air, driven by true martial energy.
Xu Ming had no doubt that if this punch landed, his ribs would shatter.
But he didn't dodge. Instead, he chose to meet it head-on.
The clash of their fists sent a shockwave rippling through the room, forcing them both back.
The boy's delicate brows furrowed.
How could this kid's strength be so great? He actually blocked my punch?!
As his hand throbbed from the impact, Xu Ming stepped forward and launched a drum-pounding strike.
Having just been met with Xu Ming's resilience, the boy refused to back down. Dodging would mean showing weakness!
Their fists clashed again and again, each blow more forceful than the last. The boy quickly realized that Xu Ming's attacks were growing fiercer with each strike, and his strength was no joke.
In a moment of hesitation, Xu Ming spotted an opening. He adjusted his position and aimed a punch at the boy's chest.
Startled, the boy twisted sideways to evade, then hooked Xu Ming's arm over his shoulder. Stepping into a low stance with a bent back, he executed a clean shoulder throw, slamming Xu Ming into the ground and following up with a punch.
Xu Ming, however, grabbed his arm and used his tremendous strength to pull the boy down with him.
Taking advantage of the moment, Xu Ming flipped over and pinned the boy beneath him, raising his fist to strike.
The boy didn't flinch. Instead, he countered with an uppercut, aiming to trade blow for blow.
"What the hell are you two doing?!"
Just as their punches were about to land, Wang Meng's voice boomed through the tent.
Both fists stopped an inch from their respective targets, the force of their strikes ruffling each other's hair.
"You've got some guts, kid! Just got here and already starting fights?
Wu Yanhan, you're no better! Been in the Blood Asura Battalions for half a year, and this is what you're doing? Bullying a newcomer? What kind of skill is that? Both of you, get up!
What's this? Got too much energy with nowhere to use it? Fine! Head to the armory, grab 500 pounds of black iron, strap it to your legs, and run 20 miles! No dinner until you're done!
The rest of you, get out there and start training! Damn it all!"
Wang Meng didn't bother asking for an explanation. He just barked out curses before stomping off.
The rest of the 484 tent scrambled to assemble for training.
"Get up!" Wu Yanhan said coldly to Xu Ming, his tone almost androgynous.
Honestly, if it weren't for the Blood Asura Battalions' strict regulations—no women allowed, with thorough background checks on every recruit—Xu Ming might've suspected that Wu Yanhan was a woman in disguise.
Still lying on the ground, Xu Ming glanced at the feminine-looking Wu Yanhan, then stood up.
Without sparing Xu Ming another look, Wu Yanhan dusted himself off and walked out of the tent.
Not knowing where the armory was, Xu Ming naturally followed.
---
[You engaged in a hard-fought battle with Wu Yanhan, ending in a draw. Gained: +10 Strength, +10 Vitality, +5 Fist Force, +5 Fist Technique Insight.]
As Xu Ming followed Wu Yanhan toward the armory, this string of notifications flashed across his mind.
After reaping such rich rewards from their fight, Xu Ming felt a strange urge to go another round with Wu Yanhan.
On a more serious note, Wu Yanhan was the strongest peer Xu Ming had ever encountered. His fists, though small, white, and delicate, packed a surprising amount of power. Even when Xu Ming went all out, he struggled to gain any advantage.
With others, Xu Ming had to hold back, fearing he might accidentally kill someone. But Wu Yanhan? He could take a punch.
Meanwhile, walking ahead, Wu Yanhan's face was calm, but his clenched fists trembled faintly.
This little brat—how can he be so strong? Wu Yanhan thought. I'm certain even Coach Wang can't outmatch me in raw strength. Yet this kid is matching me blow for blow?
---
Arriving at a large wooden warehouse, Xu Ming and Wu Yanhan queued up and were each handed a pair of weighted ankle braces. Each brace contained 250 pounds of black iron.
Xu Ming couldn't help but wonder if Wang Meng was insulting him by assigning him "250."
Strapping on the weights, the pair headed to the training field.
The field resembled a 400-meter track from Xu Ming's previous life, though slightly larger, with a full lap measuring about 500 meters—roughly one li. Twenty laps would do the trick.
At first, Xu Ming ran faster, overtaking Wu Yanhan. Then Wu Yanhan passed Xu Ming, who, in turn, overtook him again.
Neither of them was willing to admit defeat, and they pushed themselves harder with every lap.
As their speed increased, so did their exhaustion. The black iron weights strapped to their legs felt heavier with every step.
---
When lunchtime rolled around, the rest of the Blood Asura Battalions made their way to the mess halls. There were ten mess halls in the First Battalion Camp, each capable of seating 700 soldiers.
Inside one of them, Wang Meng sat at a table, wolfing down a feast of three hefty portions of meat, one side of vegetables, and a mountain of rice.
Before long, a man sat down across from him.
"How's it going?" the man asked as he ate.
"Eh, what else? They got into a fight," Wang Meng grumbled through a mouthful of rice.
The man paused, then chuckled. "Well, you know what they say—no fight, no friendship. Let them spend more time together. Don't forget what the Emperor tasked you with."
Wang Meng bit into a chicken leg and grunted, "Yeah, yeah. I know."