Chapter 83: Broke, Final Four Fight

In the semifinals—

The crowd’s attention was immediately drawn to the scene of Xiong Wenwu’s massive blood loss.

A glance at the bloodstained floor quickly led to astonishment: the student from Songyang High had actually defeated Red Tower High’s strongest fighter.

Hu Yuntao rushed forward and carried Xiong Wenwu off for treatment.

But when he heard that the hemorrhaging was caused by hemorrhoids, Hu Yuntao instinctively clenched his rear.

“What now? Surgery every time they flare up? Just get cut open every couple months?”

The thought of recurring surgical expenses made his heart ache. “Damn it! Why do I have external hemorrhoids? If they were internal, at least body-refining techniques could protect them—I wouldn’t have to pay for surgery!”

The competition coach patted him on the shoulder and chuckled. “Kid, what do you do when your head keeps getting targeted in a fight?”

“Easy. Train Iron Head Technique!” Hu Yuntao’s eyes lit up. “Wait, you mean…”

“Exactly.” The coach’s gaze turned cold as he stared between Hu Yuntao and Xiong Wenwu lying on the stretcher. “Get ready to start brutal training once we’re back. Chairman Long was very unhappy with your performance.”

Listening from the side, the medic couldn't help but think, “If the head’s a weak point, why not just wear a helmet?”

…

Elsewhere in the emergency zone—

Bai Zhenzhen’s face darkened at the doctor’s quote. After confirming it several times, she suddenly said, “Don’t worry about scar-reduction or cosmetic healing. Just use the fastest, simplest method. That way it’ll be insurance-eligible.”

The medic sighed. “Fine, fine. That’ll bring it down to 98,000 with insurance, but you’re definitely going to have scars…”

As he spoke, he began channeling mana. His hands moved so fast they left afterimages as he disinfected, reset bones, stitched wounds, stopped the bleeding… applied a series of medicinal salves… and finally infused Bai Zhenzhen’s body with healing mana to accelerate recovery.

Pricey, yes—but his skills were genuinely impressive.

After just over half an hour, Bai Zhenzhen already felt much better.

Of course, her arms, thighs, calves, and abdomen were now marred with scars.

Once she was wheeled back to the rest area, Bai Zhenzhen rotated her arm and grinned. “Not bad. Feels like I can still fight at eighty to ninety percent.”

As for the scars? She didn’t give them a second thought.

Cosmetic procedures and scar removal? That was rich-people stuff. Didn’t concern her.

Lei Jun, sitting beside her, looked conflicted. “You’re still planning to compete?”

“Of course,” she said with a grin. “If I can beat Le Mulan in the next match, I’ll meet Yuzi in the finals. First and second place, just between us—that’d make you look pretty good, wouldn’t it, Old Lei?”

Lei Jun sighed. “But your insurance is nearly maxed out. I’ve watched Le Mulan’s matches—her sword aura is razor-sharp and wide-ranging. If you go up against her… your medical bill could easily hit hundreds of thousands.”

Bai Zhenzhen went silent.

“You’re already in the top four. That looks great on a résumé—why take the risk?” Lei Jun continued.

What he didn’t say was: You’re not making it into any of the Ten Great Academies. Winning first place won’t change that.

He added, “Your fighting style is already injury-prone. If you had a few hundred grand lying around, I wouldn’t say a word.”

“But are you really willing to rack up a debt of a hundred, maybe two hundred thousand just for this competition?”

Still silent, Bai Zhenzhen didn’t respond.

Lei Jun sighed. “Ah-Zhen, we’re not like the rich kids. We have to consider cost-efficiency when we fight.”

Just then, a limping figure approached—it was Zhang Yu, freshly treated and looking battered.

Seeing the state he was in, Lei Jun shook his head. “Looks like Zhang Yu’s done, too.”

But Zhang Yu flexed his limbs and said, “Don’t worry, Old Lei. I made sure not to take hits to vital points. Just flesh wounds.”

“And I just mastered a new body-refining technique yesterday. These injuries only look bad—insurance only cost me thirty grand…”

Lei Jun didn’t quite believe him at first, but after a quick check, he was stunned. “You’re serious? You’re actually fine?”

“I’ll grab some food and drinks for you guys. Rest up while you can.”

Not long after Lei Jun left, Zhang Yu glanced at his phone and then turned to the quiet Bai Zhenzhen.

“Ah-Zhen, I heard what you two were saying earlier. You know I’ve already maxed out all my platforms. Can’t borrow any more. Best I can do is get something from my sister.”

“She’s struggling, too. I asked around—twenty grand is the most she can lend. You think that’ll cover your next match?”

Bai Zhenzhen replied, “I’ll borrow from my stepmom myself. No need for you to do it.”

“But Le Mulan’s tough. I’ve studied her. Too risky. If I want to win… it might cost forty grand just in medical expenses.”

She sighed. “Yuzi, don’t you wish we were rich?”

Zhang Yu, a soul who’d lived two lifetimes, had no response to that.

He’d been poor in both lives—what could he even say?

…

After the quarterfinals ended and all contestants received proper treatment and were out of danger, the final four were officially announced: Zhang Yu, Song Hailong, Le Mulan, and Bai Zhenzhen.

The semifinal matchups were: Zhang Yu vs. Song Hailong, and Le Mulan vs. Bai Zhenzhen.

And since the semifinals attracted more attention, the fights would take place one after the other rather than simultaneously.

A drawing determined the order: Le Mulan vs. Bai Zhenzhen would go first, followed by Zhang Yu vs. Song Hailong.

…

On the arena platform—

Le Mulan looked across at Bai Zhenzhen. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw the ugly scars on Bai Zhenzhen’s arms and legs.

“Why keep the scars?” she asked, puzzled.

“Can’t afford to fix them,” Bai Zhenzhen shrugged.

Le Mulan was stunned. She knew poor people were poor—but not having the money to remove scars? That was horrifying.

“So this is what being broke looks like… terrifying.”

Faced with an opponent who couldn’t even afford healing, her desire to fight waned. Even pity crept in.

She knew Bai Zhenzhen had exploited Xiong Wenwu’s weakness to win, but she didn’t care.

Because when it came to freshmen, Le Mulan had full confidence—she had no weaknesses.

3… 2… 1… Begin!

Le Mulan raised her fingers and fired razor-sharp sword aura through the air—slicing directly toward Bai Zhenzhen.

It was the fifth-level version of her Starry Sword Technique.

At this level, the sword aura could strike targets five meters away.

Seeing the incoming sword aura, Bai Zhenzhen’s expression shifted. She quickly activated her Piercing Sword Aura to block.

But she soon realized—Le Mulan’s sword aura wasn’t just sharp. The way each strand interwove was like a battle formation, cutting in from every angle and gradually boxing her in.

Each step forward only made the assault more intense.

It felt like she was trapped in a formation. With every movement, her space to dodge shrank.

She tried going stealth, but the moment her aura clashed with Le Mulan’s, she was exposed.

The sword aura was simply too fast and dense. She wasn’t quick or explosive enough to dodge it all.

Wait it out and let Le Mulan run out of mana?

Not likely. Her mana was overflowing—no signs of fatigue at all. Bai Zhenzhen would run dry first.

She sighed inwardly. “Going stealth on the arena’s just not worth it. Only worked the first time when it was unexpected. Now everyone’s ready for it.”

Watching Bai Zhenzhen fumble and falter, Le Mulan wasn’t surprised.

“My Starry Sword Technique forms a self-contained formation—strictly ordered sword aura, flawless strikes.”

“Unless someone charges in with a powerful body-protection technique, no peer can get close to me.”

And in her eyes, Bai Zhenzhen wasn’t even a peer.

“There are openings,” Bai Zhenzhen thought. “But I don’t have the stats to break through. If I force it, even if I win, I’ll be wrecked.”

“This one strike could cost three or four hundred thousand…”

Was she willing to risk that kind of debt?

She hesitated.

She’d had the courage to cut through Xiong Wenwu’s storm of attacks to hit his weak spot.

But to gamble with hundreds of thousands in debt for a win?

That gave her pause.

And in that hesitation, she knew—she couldn’t land the strike.

She no longer had that all-or-nothing conviction.

“…Sigh.”

A few seconds later, as the sword aura closed in from all directions, Bai Zhenzhen chose to concede.

As she walked off the stage, her eyes carried a hint of relief. “Still not strong enough. Too poor.”

“Whatever. I’ll tell Yuzi about that weak spot. Let my good boy teach that girl a lesson. He won’t have to spend nearly as much.”

With Le Mulan’s victory, the semifinals moved on to the second match—Zhang Yu vs. Song Hailong.