Sun Yong returned to the Martial Arts Hall, his face dark and his heart heavy with frustration.

Lin Yue had woken up once at the clinic but had since fallen back asleep. The doctor said his injuries were severe; he would need at least half a year, perhaps even longer, to recover.

During that time, his martial arts training would surely be delayed.

He was the disciple Sun Yong valued most, exceptionally talented and the Sun’s Martial Arts Hall’s best hope for making the rankings in this year’s tournament. Now, he had been reduced to this state.

A knot of frustration tightened in Sun Yong’s chest, and a wave of irritation washed over him.

The Martial Arts Hall had held high hopes for this year’s tournament, but with Lin Yue’s fall, all that hope seemed to have turned to dust.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, until everything he looked at seemed to irritate him.

The chattering voices of the servant disciples reached his ears, buzzing like a swarm of countless mosquitoes, making his already foul mood even more agitated.

Sun Yong stopped abruptly. His brow furrowed deeply, and his gaze darkened.

He was about to shout a reprimand, to vent the well of resentment building inside him, when a clear sentence suddenly cut through the noise.

"Senior Brother Yang took fourth place in the tournament. The news is probably spreading through every district in the city right now..."

The voice wasn’t loud, but it exploded in Sun Yong’s ears like a clap of thunder.

The scolding on the tip of his tongue died in his throat. It felt as if his throat was stuffed with cotton, and he couldn’t make a sound.

He froze on the spot, the deep furrows in his brow seeming to lock in place as he stared, stunned, in the direction of the voice.

’Fourth place? Yang Jing?’

Sun Yong’s feet were rooted to the spot.

He had always thought Yang Jing was good material—willing to endure hardship, with decent comprehension—but to say he could fight his way to fourth place in the tournament...

This was far beyond his expectations.

After Lin Yue fell, his mind had been consumed by the Martial Arts Hall’s decline. He felt that although Yang Jing had won his arena, he would struggle to carry the banner for Sun’s Martial Arts Hall in the ranking matches.

Just then, by the light of the lantern at the entrance, the servant disciples finally saw Sun Yong and Sun Ningxiang standing there.

The grim expression on Sun Yong’s face was more frightening than the shadows in the corner of the courtyard. He was clearly in a terrible mood.

The group, who had just been chattering away, fell silent as if their throats had been seized. They all shut their mouths at once, forgetting to even put down the tools in their hands. They stood with their heads bowed, not daring to breathe.

It was completely dark now, and the lantern’s glow was limited. They had been so focused on cleaning up and gossiping that they hadn’t noticed their Master and Junior Sister had returned.

Sun Yong, however, ignored their panic. He strode forward, walking with huge, quick steps toward the servant disciple who had just spoken.

His cloth shoes slapped against the stone slabs, making a THUD, THUD sound. Each step seemed to land directly on the disciple’s heart.

When he reached the disciple, Sun Yong stopped, glaring down at him like a tiger stalking its prey.

He was already a large, imposing man, and now, with his brows furrowed and his gaze sharp as a blade, he loomed over the short servant disciple and asked in a low voice, "What did you just say? What place did Yang Jing get?"

The servant disciple was so frightened by his appearance that he trembled all over. The rag in his hand fell to the ground with a FLAP, his face turned deathly pale, and his lips quivered, unable to form a single word for a long moment.

Seeing her father’s grave expression and the servant disciple too terrified to speak, Sun Ningxiang quickly stepped forward and asked gently, "You were saying... what place did your Senior Brother Yang Jing get in the tournament?"

She too had faintly heard the mention of "fourth place," but it was so unexpected that she thought she must have misheard.

She had seen Yang Jing’s hard work with her own eyes, but ’how long has it been since he broke through to the Hidden Energy stage?’ She had never imagined he could achieve such a high rank in the tournament.

Hearing Sun Ningxiang’s gentle voice, the servant disciple’s frayed nerves relaxed considerably.

He nodded hastily, his voice still trembling. "T-To answer, Senior Sister, it was fourth place! Senior Brother Yang already came back for a bit. Senior Brother Liu said he took fourth in the tournament. It seems he was injured during his matches, so he went home to recuperate."

Another servant disciple next to him quickly added, his voice filled with irrepressible excitement, "That’s right, Hall Master, Senior Sister! We heard it at first from the senior brothers who came back early. Senior Brother Yang not only beat Xu Guangwei, but in the end, he even defeated Zhou Tong and fought his way into fourth place!"

"Yes, yes," another disciple chimed in. "From the looks of it when Senior Brother Yang came back, his complexion wasn’t good. It seemed like his injuries were pretty serious. He wanted to wait for you to return before leaving, but he really couldn’t hold on and went back first."

The servant disciples, speaking over one another in their excitement, laid out the whole story clearly.

Sun Yong stood rooted to the spot, the gloom on his face slowly receding, replaced by a dazed astonishment.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat was dry.

’Fourth place... Yang Jing...’

Those words echoed in his mind.

He had always known Yang Jing trained diligently and worked hard, but ultimately, it hadn’t been long since he had broken through to the Hidden Energy stage.

Today, with Lin Yue severely injured and unconscious, he had been consumed with worry for him and disappointed with this year’s tournament, so he had left the grounds immediately.

But who could have imagined that Yang Jing, in whom he had not placed much hope, would cut a path through thorns and brambles to take fourth place!

This rank was practically a guaranteed spot on the tournament’s final list!

’Could the Sun’s Martial Arts Hall’s decade-plus of silence really be broken this year?’

’And the one to break this embarrassing stalemate wasn’t Lin Yue, whom he had valued so highly before, but the quiet, taciturn Yang Jing?’

Sun Ningxiang also stood to the side, a storm of emotions churning within her.

She recalled Yang Jing’s usual quiet and reserved demeanor, how he would bury his head in his training. Trying to reconcile that image with the glory of fourth place in the tournament felt... dissonant.