"Esteemed guest, could you at least pick a name that sounds somewhat human?"
After hearing Sang Ji's explanation, the sibling stall owners remained unmoved.
Not only that, a trace of cold mockery flickered in their eyes, as if silently retorting, "Do you really expect us to believe that?"
Sang Ji: "..."
As the tension in the air thickened, a fight seemed imminent.
At the critical moment, Yan Luoyue bravely stepped forward and gently explained:
"My brother truly didn’t mean any harm. He often jokes around with me like this at home—it’s just a habit."
Instantly, the suspicious gazes of the stall-owning siblings flickered between Yan Luoyue and Sang Ji.
Seeing Yan Luoyue’s sweet, adorable appearance and the natural ease between her and Sang Ji, half their doubts faded.
If he already had such a sister at home, he probably had no reason to covet someone else’s.
After a moment of thought, the elder brother lowered his cleaver and forced a customer-friendly smile:
"Seems like it was just a misunderstanding. My apologies. Feel free to browse the medicinal pills at my stall."
Taking the opportunity, Yan Luoyue stepped forward and picked up a jar of the stall owner’s highly recommended "Tiny Turtle Balm." She unscrewed the lid, brought it to her nose, and sniffed.
Casually, she asked, "This medicine is called 'Tiny Turtle Balm'—does it have any connection to the Canglang Sect?"
The elder brother chuckled evasively and said nothing, but his younger sister spoke up.
Her voice was cool, slightly tense, matching her earnest expression.
"I saw the miraculous medicine from the Aoao Sect and tried replicating it by measuring the ingredients. Mine is cheaper. The Aoao Sect guards their recipe closely, but if you like my version, you’re welcome to buy it."
As the scent of the balm wafted into her nose, Yan Luoyue took a small taste with her fingertip and immediately smiled.
This was a classic "Sweet Delight Pill," refined using the alchemical "Revitalizing" technique.
Though its potency and flavor fell short of her original version, she could sense the sincerity behind it—the girl had done her utmost to replicate it as closely as possible.
Tossing a handful of spirit pearls onto the stall, Yan Luoyue flipped through their other medicines.
"Your medicines here are all quite good."
The younger sister nodded coolly. "You flatter me."
Yan Luoyue waved the small jar in her hand.
"But I noticed this 'Sweet Delight Pill' earns less than half the profit of your other medicines. Why not raise the price or switch to something more lucrative?"
The girl didn’t answer immediately, first giving Yan Luoyue a long look.
"I’ve embarrassed myself. I didn’t realize you were an expert."
She picked up another jar of Tiny Turtle Balm, her gaze lingering subtly on Wu Pingyuan.
Though her expression remained cold and serious, a glimmer of hope flickered deep in her eyes.
"This miracle medicine originally came from the Aoao Sect. I’ve tried replicating it hundreds of times but could never restore its full potency."
As she spoke, her attention fixed even more intently on Wu Pingyuan.
It was less an explanation and more a deliberate message for the body cultivator.
"I knew body cultivators often fight at this arena, and among them, the Aoao Sect stands out. That’s why I set up my stall here, selling Tiny Turtle Balm. I hoped to catch their attention—maybe even meet the master alchemist and seek their guidance."
Hearing this, Yan Gan lightly nudged Wu Pingyuan’s elbow.
"Brother Wu, did you bring us to this arena today just so we’d see this?"
"Huh? What? No, I had no idea!" Wu Pingyuan was genuinely baffled. "I always go straight to the combat arena when I come here—I don’t even pass by this area!"
Yan Luoyue paid little attention to their whispered exchange.
She studied the girl’s determined eyes for a moment before suddenly smiling.
"It’s normal for an alchemist to struggle with the final step. That’s because the last technique isn’t 'Revitalizing'—it’s the artificer’s 'Tempering.'"
Though her words were light, they struck the girl like a bolt of clarity, instantly illuminating the puzzle.
"I see!" she exclaimed.
"'Revitalizing' is meant to condense medicinal potency, but the three herbs—Danpi Earth, Cold White Peony, and Tung Banxia—clash when their volatile properties reach their peak. Forcing them together only weakens the effect."
Though she knew nothing of artificing or the specific tempering technique used, "Revitalizing" was indeed the wrong approach.
For this young girl to pinpoint the crux of the problem—could it be…?
A beat later, the realization hit her. The stall owner’s breath caught.
Staring at Yan Luoyue in disbelief, she murmured, "Could you… no, could you be…?"
Yan Luoyue grinned, her eyes curving. "What, can’t a master alchemist be a little girl?"
"No!" The girl’s expression grew fervent, her eyes shining as if Yan Luoyue’s words had given her immense encouragement. "A master alchemist absolutely can be a little girl!"
She looked ready to leap out from behind her stall, seize Yan Luoyue’s hands, and discuss pharmacology on the spot.
Yan Luoyue quickly waved her off. "I’m just a inheritor. The person who invented this formula wasn’t me."
To be precise, she had purchased the rights to this formula back in *World’s Unity*.
"But," Yan Luoyue added slyly, "the inventor was also a little girl."
Even as Yan Luoyue and her two brothers walked away, the girl’s voice carried after them.
"My name is Yin Wangyou! Please tell that master—this is just Tiny Turtle Balm, and I didn’t do it well. But believe me, I’ll work hard to invent the Great Turtle Balm!"
"..."
Yan Luoyue stumbled mid-step, nearly tripping.
Bitterly, she lamented, "So, aside from the three of us, has *no one* ever wanted to call it 'Sweet Delight Pill'? Is that it?"
Wu Pingyuan pretended to drop something, crouching to pick it up slowly.
But out of the corner of her eye, Yan Luoyue saw him whirl around three steps later, sprinting back to the stall while wildly gesturing to correct the stall owner.
...Well, fine.
The combat arena was located at the far end of the venue.
They had taken this route first to register Yan Luoyue as an arena challenger.
The cultivation world had no child protection laws, let alone rules against child labor or underage fighters.
After completing the standard procedures, Yan Luoyue easily obtained her challenger status.
Now, only one step remained: choosing a name for her challenger identity.
The attendant responsible for guiding her through the registration process smiled respectfully. After explaining this rule, he politely clasped his hands and stood aside, quietly awaiting her decision.
Yan Luoyue caught the implication in the attendant's words: "You said 'choose a name'—so I don’t have to use my real one?"
“Of course not,” the attendant replied deferentially. “As long as the challenger is genuine, that’s all that matters. Whether the champion uses a pseudonym is beyond our arena’s jurisdiction.”
Yan Luoyue turned to Sang Ji. "Brother Ji, did you register under your real name?"
"Mm, I used my real name."
Sang Ji flicked the small tag tied to his finger and explained in detail:
"Making a name for yourself in the arena is one way to gain fame. I don’t fight to the death, so I won’t make bitter enemies. In that case, using my real name might come in handy someday."
This logic wasn’t wrong.
It was like being among the first pioneers of the internet. Those iconic early usernames—whether for starting a business or opening an online shop—could leverage their initial reputation.
But still...
Yan Luoyue lifted her chin. "I’ll use a fake name."
Rarely did one get such a playful opportunity, like creating a game character. Why not choose a uniquely whimsical ID?
The attendant’s smile remained unchanged. "Please go ahead."
Yan Luoyue thought for a moment. "Then my name will be—'My Name Is Just to Test How Long This Arena’s Naming Limit Really Is One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine...' Is that acceptable?"
The attendant: "..."
Sang Ji: "..."
Yan Gan: "..."
As Yan Luoyue leisurely announced her chosen name, the attendant’s previously unshakable polite smile slowly cracked under her gaze.
"Your, uh..." The attendant forced a smile. "We’ve never had such a precedent..."
Yan Luoyue seemed surprised. "Only thirty-five characters before hitting the limit? Your naming field’s capacity is rather low."
The attendant chuckled dryly. "You’re right, our naming field’s capacity is rather low."
Yan Luoyue pondered. "Then let’s remove the string of numbers from one to nine. Will that work?"
The attendant: "Ah, my apologies, honored guest, but our naming field’s capacity is rather low."
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Undeterred, she tried again. "In that case, how about 'I Just Want to Test the Arena’s Naming Limit'—"
Before she could finish, the attendant nearly dropped to his knees.
"Please, honored guest, I beg you—at least choose a name that sounds like a person’s!"
Yan Luoyue: "..."
She turned her gaze to the three behind her, only to receive unanimous nods from Yan Gan, Sang Ji, and Wu Pingyuan.
In this cultivation world, untainted by the influence of internet absurdity, such an outrageous naming convention had never been heard of.
At this moment, the trio found their emotions indescribable.
Little did they know, in another world, this feeling could be perfectly captured by the meme: "Damn, you’re wild.jpg."
"Fine." Yan Luoyue relented. "Then how do people usually choose fake names here?"
The attendant wiped his sweat, his smile finally returning to its usual practiced ease as he launched into an enthusiastic explanation:
"Generally, there are three methods to choose from. You may borrow a surname from a close relative and take inspiration from the natural world for the given name. Alternatively, you could select an antonym or synonym of your real name. Or, you could extract a radical or component from your name to form a new one..."
He prayed his earnest advice would inspire the young girl.
Just please, no more of those bizarre names!
"Ah." Yan Luoyue considered carefully. "Got it. I know what to call myself."
"Please, go ahead."
Yan Luoyue made up her mind, opting for the attendant’s third suggestion. "Then I’ll be called □□□."
"..."
Once again, the attendant visibly cracked in front of her.
"Pardon me, I must be hearing things. Honored guest, what did you just say???"
"□□□." Yan Luoyue nodded matter-of-factly. "I took the 'enclosure' radical from each character of my name."
The attendant: "..."
Yan Luoyue pressed further. "Still not allowed?"
The attendant, his last psychological defense shattered, shook his head mournfully.
"It's not that it's disallowed—but we've truly never encountered a champion like you before!"
Half an hour later, the attendant saw off the honored guest. With a dazed and distant expression, he bowed deeply.
"Respected champion □□□, please take care. We will arrange your match opponent as soon as possible. Champion □□□, please wait patiently."
Sang Ji glanced back at the attendant with pity.
No matter how he looked at it, the man seemed to radiate six invisible characters: "Please never come back!"
......
Despite the psychological trauma Yan Luoyue inflicted on the attendant, the arena did not slight her because of it.
“Silver Light Arena” lived up to its reputation as a major arena, operating with remarkable efficiency—no wonder it had managed to establish branches across the cultivation world.
After waiting barely half an hour, a new attendant—not the one who had served them earlier—approached to inform her that the arena had matched her with an opponent.
This contest was a hand-to-hand battle, as chosen by Yan Luoyue, where all weapons were forbidden.
However, the rules did not prohibit demonic cultivators from participating, nor did they bar them from assuming their true forms.
In such cases, demonic cultivators often held the advantage: their natural forms came with fangs and claws far beyond ordinary human capabilities.
To balance this, their opponents were typically more experienced or slightly higher in cultivation—by a level or two.
This way, the fights remained evenly matched, delivering thrilling spectacles that enticed audiences to bet generously.
After all, the arena's primary income came not from ticket sales but from wagers and tips.
The new attendant presented a challenge letter on a tray.
Your opponent for this match is 'Little Whirlwind' Tao Fafa, a human at late Qi Refining stage, with eight consecutive wins. Do you accept the challenge?
If Yan Luoyue feared her opponent’s reputation, she could forfeit by surrendering her tag before even stepping onto the stage.
After tucking away the letter, Yan Luoyue nodded. "I accept."
"Go, Little Master!"
"Little sis, go for it! Brother Ji and I bet on you!"
"You’ve got this, little sis! And if you don’t—just faceplant like you always do!"
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Amid the cheers from her brothers and Wu Pingyuan, Yan Luoyue strode into the fighter’s passage.
Less than a minute later, she stood on the stage, facing her opponent from across the ring.
"Little Whirlwind" Tao Fafa was a burly, towering man—clearly a body cultivator.
Well, of course. Most of those who chose hand-to-hand combat were body cultivators.
Tao Fafa had a waist sturdy enough to race horses on and arms solid enough to stand people upon. His thick, glossy black hair was coarse as hemp rope, tied high atop his head with a silver ring, making him quite the eye-catcher.
When he saw the opponent assigned to him on the arena, Tao Fafa froze for a moment, clearly not expecting his adversary to be so small and frail.
"What? A little girl? Are you… Yan Luoyue?"
"Yes, that's me."
Scratching his head, Tao Fafa let out an awkward laugh. "Well, uh… that’s creative. I’ll, uh… try to make this quick."
Before he could finish, the announcer signaled the start of the match.
From both sides of the arena, a rapid drumbeat erupted.
Red ribbons waved in the air, both to hype up the crowd and to stoke the fighters’ fighting spirit.
Tao Fafa seized the initiative with a loud shout, charging straight at Yan Luoyue!
The moment he moved, Yan Luoyue realized two things.
First, "Tao Fafa" was likely not his real name but a nickname-based alias.
Second, she now understood why he was called "Little Whirlwind."
Because in this unarmed combat arena, where weapons were forbidden, Tao Fafa had turned his hair into a weapon!
With a wild cry, he bent his torso at a ninety-degree angle, spinning his neck at high speed, whipping his thick, black hair into a swirling cyclone.
Tao Fafa swung his head like an ordinary cultivator would wield a whip.
In an instant, the momentum was overwhelming—his hair lashed through the air like steel, whistling as it shot toward Yan Luoyue!
If not for the circumstances, Yan Luoyue would have loved to ask Tao Fafa if his brain had undergone any special changes after years of enduring such high-speed churning.
She had truly underestimated the world.
Yan Luoyue had always assumed body cultivators focused solely on tempering their flesh, perhaps refining their organs at most.
But today, she witnessed one who had even trained his cerebral cortex!
In the blink of an eye, the first strike was upon her.
Yan Luoyue wanted to test both the power of Tao Fafa’s attack and her own current health reserves.
So she stood her ground, merely sidestepping slightly, allowing his hair to land a glancing blow.
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers as the drums pounded and the red ribbons danced even more fervently.
Meanwhile, the health bar above Yan Luoyue’s head dipped slightly—she had lost 300 HP.
Compared to her maximum health pool of 10,000, this attack was laughably insignificant.
But Yan Luoyue knew that, among Qi Refinement cultivators, Tao Fafa was actually quite formidable.
After all, based on her long-term observations, most Qi Refinement cultivators had health pools between two to four thousand.
Only a rare few, those half a step into Foundation Establishment, could approach ten thousand.
Yan Luoyue’s current health was at the absolute peak for a Qi Refinement cultivator.
Had Tao Fafa faced anyone else, landing ten solid hits would have secured his victory.
But unfortunately for him, his opponent was Yan Luoyue.
Even if she stood motionless like a wooden training dummy, Tao Fafa would need to hit her over thirty times to knock her out of the arena.
And that wasn’t all…
After Tao Fafa launched two more attacks, Yan Luoyue beckoned him and asked, "Fellow cultivator, do you need to pause and gather strength before each attack?"
After all, maintaining such a spinning speed must be hell on his poor brain.
Tao Fafa eyed the little girl warily.
The moment she took his hair whip without flinching, he knew this young demon girl was no pushover.
"...Why do you ask?"
Yan Luoyue sighed for her opponent, then said something cryptic.
"Did you know? I regenerate health."
From her observations, Tao Fafa had to pause between attacks to let his scrambled brain settle.
But… how to put this…
Revealing this fact might just shatter the body cultivator’s morale.
Because in the time it took Tao Fafa to recover, Yan Luoyue’s health had already regenerated half of what she lost from the previous strike.
And this was without her activating any defensive techniques or making any active effort to counter.
After testing her natural resilience, Yan Luoyue activated the turtle clan’s signature defensive technique—Tortoise Shell Art.
Like the Tortoise Breathing Art, this was a specialized cultivation method tailored for the turtle race.
Every time she used it, Yan Luoyue felt an unshakable sense of invincibility. This time was no exception.
*Thwack!* Tao Fafa’s hair struck her shoulder again.
A Qi Refinement cultivator’s full-powered hair whip could shred tree bark like steel cable.
But on Yan Luoyue, it only dealt -150 HP.
Then, just as she had tested earlier—
In the interval before Tao Fafa’s next attack, Yan Luoyue’s health regenerated by 150 points, completely nullifying the damage!
On the arena, Tao Fafa stared at Yan Luoyue in bewilderment, unable to comprehend why this little girl was so tanky, taking hit after hit without so much as a wince.
Against any normal opponent—even a tough brute—they’d be gritting their teeth or paling from the pain by now.
But this girl not only remained unfazed…
She was even looking at him with pity?!
Yan Luoyue offered sincere advice: "Fellow cultivator, maybe you should just forfeit."
Tao Fafa was an aggressive fighter, dealing heavy damage at the cost of his own brainpower—a classic blitzkrieg style.
But the longer you walk the night, the likelier you are to meet a ghost. And the more arena matches you fight, the likelier you are to meet a turtle.
Today, his opponent happened to be Yan Luoyue.
His attacks barely fazed her.
Meanwhile, every spin and churn of his brain was entirely self-inflicted!
Tao Fafa gulped, already sensing something unnatural about Yan Luoyue.
Clutching at straws, he asked, "Can I at least know… what kind of demon are you?"
Yan Luoyue answered plainly: "Turtle clan."
"...My apologies for the disturbance."
Tao Fafa took a deep breath, took a few steps toward the edge of the arena, then stopped abruptly.
Holding onto one last shred of hope, he turned back and asked earnestly, "That last hit… you really didn’t feel anything?"
Yan Luoyue looked at him sympathetically. After regenerating, she truly hadn’t felt a thing.
But saying so outright would be too cruel.
So she patted her shoulder and crafted a white lie to console him: "Don’t worry, I felt it. It tickled a little."
Tao Fafa: "..."
Upon hearing this, the body cultivator took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and said in a trembling voice, "...Sorry for the disturbance. I’ll take my leave."
Then, this eight-foot-tall man, with an expression of tragic resolve, leaped off the edge of the arena by himself.
The announcer, having overseen countless arena matches, was witnessing such a bizarre turn of events for the first time: a formidable body cultivator had actually been worn down by a young girl’s passive fighting style until he gave up!
He blinked in stunned silence for a moment before belatedly declaring, "The winner of this match—Yan Luoyue!"
Yan Luoyue smiled and nodded, acknowledging the crowd.
There weren’t many cheers from the audience.
Most of them were still mourning the bets they had placed on Tao Fafa.
Only Yan Gan and Sang Ji stood out in the crowd like two stubborn icicles hanging stubbornly from a winter rooftop, leaping to their feet with cheers and raised hands.
Yan Gan shouted joyfully, "That’s my little sister! My sister is amazing!"
This instantly triggered a conditioned reflex in Sang Ji’s soul.
He immediately followed up, "My sister—no, our sister! Our sister is incredible!"
Everyone: "..."
Yin Wangyou, who had closed her stall just to watch the match: "..."
She was now willing to believe that Sang Ji had indeed just been speaking out of habit.
As Yan Luoyue prepared to step down after her victory, the announcer suddenly stopped her.
"What is it?" Yan Luoyue asked, looking at him inquiringly.
The announcer smiled warmly and explained, "Congratulations, Champion Yan Luoyue, on your victory. Would you be willing to continue defending your title?"
Continuing as the defending champion… wasn’t out of the question.
In the previous match, Yan Luoyue had only conducted preliminary tests on her health reserves.
She still had several techniques she hadn’t used yet, and today seemed like a good opportunity to try them out.
Noticing the flicker of interest in Yan Luoyue’s eyes, the announcer quickly added,
"If you agree, we’ll arrange a new opponent of comparable strength for you. If you successfully defend your title three times in a row tonight, we’ll also present you with a special gift."
Yan Luoyue thought for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I’ll fight one more match."
"Excellent! Please wait a moment while we arrange your opponent," the announcer replied with a practiced smile.
The challenger for the second match soon appeared—another body cultivator, named Shi Gang, also known as "Stone Vajra."
He had thick, muscular arms, a face full of rough features, and an air of menace radiating from his very gaze.
The moment he stepped onto the stage and saw Yan Luoyue, Shi Gang grinned at her.
"I heard about what happened with Tao Fafa backstage. That guy’s got no brains. So what if you’re a turtle and tough to beat? Making you lose is easy."
As soon as these words left his mouth, the audience—many of whom had lost money betting against Yan Luoyue—erupted in loud cheers.
"Do it, Stone Vajra! Win this for us!"
"I’m betting on Shi Gang—three low-grade spirit stones!"
"Make her lose! Make her lose!"
Amid the uproar, swept up by the arena’s energy, Yan Gan single-handedly shoved his way through a dozen spectators to reach the betting table.
He slammed down all the spirit stones he had just won, placing them squarely on "Champion Yan Luoyue."
Yan Gan declared firmly, "My sister is invincible!"
Behind him, Sang Ji shouted, "My—no, our sister!"
Indeed, after the earlier incident with Yin Wangyou, Sang Ji had mastered the art of abbreviation without needing instruction.
Under the hostile glares of the surrounding crowd, Sang Ji quickly squeezed into the throng, slung an arm around his friend’s shoulders, and dragged him back toward the spectator seats.
As he pulled Yan Gan away, he said with a laugh,
"We’ve bet all the money we just won. If our sister loses, consider it returning your winnings. But if she wins again, I trust you’ll all accept the outcome gracefully."
Sang Ji’s tone was so calm, as if he cared neither for wealth nor the match’s result.
His demeanor actually swayed some of the crowd.
A few thoughtful spectators, who had been about to place bets on Shi Gang, hesitated before shifting their spirit stones toward Yan Luoyue’s name instead.
But others, still bitter over their earlier losses, shouted angrily, "Who the hell are you two? Give us your names!"
"Oh, I’m Sang Ji," Sang Ji replied without missing a beat. "This is my brother Yan Gan. We’re both Yan Luoyue’s older brothers!"
Everyone: "..."
The announcer had been about to declare the match’s start, but the commotion below caught his attention.
He hurried over and politely asked Yan Luoyue, "Apologies for interrupting your focus. But are those two gentlemen in the stands your esteemed relatives?"
"They’re my brothers."
"Understood." The announcer nodded solemnly.
Then, in the next instant, he tore open a communication talisman and barked into it,
"Ding Geng, go restrain those two honored guests. Make sure they stop provoking the crowd. And get them a private booth!"
Otherwise, the arena might soon witness the tragic spectacle of "Yan Luoyue fighting on stage while Sang Ji and Yan Gan get beaten up by the spectators below."
In all his years of hosting matches, the announcer had sharp instincts and plenty of experience.
He could confidently say he’d seen all kinds of champions—but never before had he encountered an audience so naturally inclined to get themselves punched.
Once the minor disturbance was handled, the announcer smoothly announced the match’s start.
The moment the word "Begin!" left his lips, Shi Gang lunged at Yan Luoyue with startling speed.
He dropped low, wrapping his thick arms tightly around her calves.
—This was Shi Gang’s strategy, the very reason he had confidently proclaimed, "Making you lose is easy."
If this girl was a turtle, renowned for her resilience, why bother attacking her?
That would just be playing to her strengths.
In a live arena match, victory was as simple as forcing your opponent out of the ring.
So Shi Gang had decided on an aggressive opening move—a grapple-and-toss. He planned to hoist the girl off her feet and fling her straight out of bounds.
The moment his arms locked around Yan Luoyue’s legs, Shi Gang’s heart surged with triumph.
Got her!
Now, all he had to do was lift her—lift—wait, why wasn’t she budging?
If he had humbled himself enough to ask, as Tao Fafa had earlier, Yan Luoyue would have explained: It was one of the turtle clan’s secret techniques.
—"Unshakable as a Turtle," one of the turtle clan’s inherited techniques, allowed its user to stand firm as a mountain, immovable.
Truthfully, this technique was most useful during the later stages of a turtle’s growth.
By then, their true forms would have expanded to the size of millstones.
At that point, they could simply perform a "Turtle Avalanche" on their opponents, then activate "Unshakable as a Turtle."
No matter how hard their foes struggled, the giant turtles would remain unyielding—until their adversaries were flattened into pancakes, suffering crushing defeat.
Although Yan Luoyue was currently just a little turtle, that didn’t stop her from mastering this technique to perfection.
As the saying goes, there’s no such thing as a useless skill—only situations where it isn’t applied correctly.
Take now, for instance. Shi Gang was exerting the kind of force you’d use to yank out a stubborn radish, yet he still couldn’t budge Yan Luoyue’s firmly planted legs.
Meanwhile, from her current position, Yan Luoyue could easily alternate her fists, delivering a rapid barrage of punches to the back of Shi Gang’s skull.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—"
Don’t misunderstand—that wasn’t the sound of Yan Luoyue’s fists landing, but rather her vocal sound effects to accompany her punches.
While her strikes lacked the fierce, demon-subduing flair of Shen Jingxuan’s, Yan Luoyue still had her pride to uphold!
The body cultivator huffed and puffed as he tugged away, his face red and veins bulging from exertion.
Yan Luoyue, meanwhile, unleashed a flurry of "rat-tat-tat-tat" punches before her throat grew slightly dry. She promptly unscrewed the bamboo cup at her waist and took a sip of water.
The two temporarily disengaged, each recognizing the other as a tough nut to crack.
Shi Gang shook out his arms and took a deep breath. "You’re really heavy," he grumbled.
Yan Luoyue rubbed her fists.
She craned her neck to glance at the back of Shi Gang’s head and noted that after enduring over a hundred of her punches, it had only swollen up slightly. "Your skull’s really stubborn," she shot back.
Their eyes met, sparking with crackling combat tension.
Taking another deep breath, Shi Gang stayed put and reluctantly suggested, "How about we call it a draw?"
It wasn’t that he couldn’t keep dragging this out with the little girl.
The problem was, there was no benefit in prolonging it.
In the time he’d waste tussling with her, he could’ve fought three other matches and earned three times the money!
Yan Luoyue thought for a moment before shaking her head firmly. "No draws. If you can’t keep going, you can toss your token and concede."
"Oh?" Shi Gang smirked mockingly. "I’ll admit you’re good at stalling your opponent. But I’ve seen what your fists can do. With those weak, back-massage-level punches, what exactly can you do to me?"
Yan Luoyue gave her fists one last rub.
As her health bar gradually refilled, the slight soreness in her hands faded, restoring them to their usual state.
"Actually, I have one more move..."
Shi Gang’s expression sharpened. "Care to enlighten me?"
Among the turtle clan, this technique was known as *Divine Turtle Whirlwind*.
But in her childhood, Yan Luoyue had suffered far too many embarrassing moments tied to the words "Divine Turtle."
And considering how this technique worked, she had always privately referred to it as—
"*Newton’s Coffin Lid Can’t Hold Me Down*," Yan Luoyue stated calmly. "That’s the name of this technique."
Shi Gang: "???"
Wait, who was Newton?
And why, despite hearing this name for the first time, did it somehow radiate an overwhelming sense of power?
Yan Luoyue: Well, of course—because "Newton (N)" is a unit of force.
Middle school physics teaches us that 1N = 1kg·m/s²!
