Chapter Nineteen: Do You Like Her?

Knocked down again and again—yet again and again, he stood up.

For the one hundred and twentieth time, he rose to his feet. Though his wounds could heal, Cheng Feng was now nearly numb to pain; it felt as if his body no longer belonged to him.

Across the whole arena, only the ragged breaths of a man and a woman echoed, rising and falling, as if they were locked in some fierce, unending struggle.

He drew a deep breath, his sharp gaze fixed on Yan Ruying, and swiftly launched another assault.

His swordplay, no longer the wild hacking of the first exchanges, now sliced through the air like lightning—relentless and growing ever more forceful.

Though today was his first time wielding a wooden sword, Cheng Feng felt a strange, inexplicable familiarity, as if he had swung a blade ten thousand times in a previous life.

And after a hundred and twenty rounds, he grew ever more adept; sword techniques flickered through his memory, half-remembered, and he wielded the sword with a natural instinct.

Yan Ruying’s wind-swift swordplay gradually began to reveal its essence to him as well.

“Did you inject yourself with adrenaline or something?” she exclaimed, growing somewhat serious as Cheng Feng fought back with increasing vigor. “No matter how I hit you, you just get more excited! I get it now! You’re a masochist, aren’t you?”

“Masochist, my foot!” Cheng Feng snorted, answering her with the wooden sword. With each exchange, his technique shed its excess movements. Unlike at the start, when he’d been utterly powerless, he could now strike back, if only once or twice.

Though he was still no match for Yan Ruying, he felt no sense of defeat.

“Again!”

Bang!

“Again!”

Once more, he was knocked down. Once more, he charged forward, repeating the cycle endlessly.

Yan Ruying couldn’t help but admire his perseverance. This was not something an ordinary person could endure. This man’s will was truly remarkable.

She went all in, striking him to the ground with another blow.

From afar, she watched him lie motionless, after this relentless battle that had lasted so long. At last, he had fallen.

“Whew! Finally stopped… That’s enough training for today,” Yan Ruying sighed in relief. After hours of continuous bouts, she had reached her limit.

This man was truly impressive.

With proper guidance, he could become an exceptional talent.

Just as she turned to leave, an unyielding voice called from behind her.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here!”

Startled, Yan Ruying spun around to see Cheng Feng propping himself up on his hands, gripping the wooden sword as he forced himself to stand once more.

His eyes burned with a determination like an undying flame.

Cheng Feng attacked again, and she had no choice but to meet him head-on.

This time, seizing upon an exceedingly rare opening, Cheng Feng thrust the wooden sword forward without hesitation.

Yan Ruying was taken aback and quickly dodged. The blade grazed her right cheek, so close she could feel the wind it whipped against her skin—her heart skipped a beat.

That sword stroke had nearly hit her. Startled, a flurry of thoughts raced through her mind.

How long had they been fighting? The kid’s swordsmanship had really improved!

And so quickly, despite taking a beating the entire time!

This wasn’t just talent—this was cheating!

If she hadn’t experienced it for herself, she would never have believed that a novice who had never held a sword before could, after over a hundred exchanges, actually put up a fight against her, a sword master.

“Wait—wait a second!” She’d just knocked Cheng Feng back, but as he prepared to attack yet again, Yan Ruying hastily called a halt.

“What now?” Cheng Feng was panting, his tone a little annoyed.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Yan Ruying chuckled, “That’s enough training for today. Take a break.”

But Cheng Feng had no intention of letting her off so easily. He jeered, “Who was it that said even if I knelt and begged, this special training wouldn’t stop? Let’s keep going!”

“You…” Yan Ruying wanted to retort, but exhaustion had gotten the better of her. With a helpless sigh, she conceded, “Fine, I take back what I said.”

Only after the session finally stopped did they realize it was already midday—their stomachs were growling with hunger, though neither had noticed until now.

As soon as Cheng Feng relaxed, the fatigue suppressed for hours crashed over him. He lay sprawled on the arena floor, gasping for breath; every limb ached, and his bones felt as if they were about to fall apart.

Yan Ruying was no better off—her body glistened with sweat, a few drops trailing over her delicate collarbones. Her black tank top was soaked through, and she sat down wherever she could to cool off.

“When do we eat? I’m starving!” Cheng Feng complained.

Yan Ruying laughed as she wiped her sweat with a towel. “I arranged with Shiyu earlier—she’ll bring us lunch. Shouldn’t be long now.”

She now saw Cheng Feng in an entirely new light.

Though she didn’t know why the Chairwoman had recruited him, in her eyes, this young man was truly a rare genius.

From a clueless apprentice, after just a few hours of sparring, he’d mastered the basics of swordsmanship—and was already progressing toward more advanced techniques.

Such talent was one in a million, with boundless potential ahead.

None of her students had ever improved so absurdly fast—he was the very first.

If this diamond in the rough could be properly polished, perhaps one day he might even surpass Liu Shiyu.

Cheng Feng lay on the ground, studying his hands. Forget Yan Ruying—he himself was baffled. Why was his swordplay becoming so adept?

In his memory, the original owner of this body had never held a sword, nor had he. This was his first time touching a wooden blade. It was bizarre.

Just as he was parched with thirst, a bottle of mineral water appeared before his eyes.

He immediately accepted it from Yan Ruying, sat up, twisted off the cap, and gulped it down.

Sitting beside him, Yan Ruying offered sincere praise, “Your swordsmanship is improving fast. At this rate, in the next few days, your skills will soar.”

“Excellent.” Cheng Feng clenched his fist; this was exactly the result he wanted.

Suddenly, Yan Ruying recalled something. “I heard you initially refused the invitation from the Disaster Association, and Shiyu had to put in a lot of effort to recruit you?”

“Something like that,” Cheng Feng replied, giving a vague answer.

Yan Ruying chuckled meaningfully, “I see. When I first heard Shiyu was getting close to a newcomer, I thought she’d finally opened up.”

“Opened up?” Cheng Feng was puzzled.

“I mean, she finally took the initiative to get close to someone. Don’t you think she’s a bit aloof?”

“So she’s the aloof type?” Cheng Feng mused, rubbing his chin. “I didn’t get that impression when I was with her. I found her rather cute and a bit clueless, actually.”

“Really? You’re the first to describe her that way.” Yan Ruying couldn’t help but laugh. “I wonder what kind of expression Shiyu would make if she heard someone call her cute and clueless. That would be something to see.”

After she finished laughing, Cheng Feng asked curiously, “Why do you seem to care about her in particular?”

Seeing his confusion, Yan Ruying’s smile slowly faded, replaced by a strange expression. “So, you really don’t know about her past, do you?”

She suddenly looked at Cheng Feng and asked, “Do you like her?”