Lin Xiao sighed inwardly but didn’t intervene. He knew Lin Dongxue lagged behind Tang Yan. Surrendering outright preserved Tang Yan’s stamina and trump cards—the smart play.

*Tang Yan, my daughter’s stepping aside for you. You’d better shine in this competition!*

Her move sent a ripple of unease through some onlookers.

At Fang City’s seats, Fang Xuan eyed Tang Yan warily. Lin Dongxue was no slouch—her swift concession suggested Tang Yan was even stronger.

Already onstage, Du Shu glanced at Tang Yan, a flicker of caution in his gaze.

“No point staring—you won’t get to fight him!” Wan Fei said with a smile. Bathed in sunlight, her mature allure radiated charm.

Du Shu gave her a teasing look. “So confident? How sure are you of taking the crown, Miss Wan Fei?”

“Crowning’s a stretch, but top three? No sweat,” she replied.

Her words carried weight in Du Shu’s ears. Beating him was her ticket to third place—where’d that confidence come from?

“Match—begin!” the red-robed elder bellowed.

Fang Xuan’s analysis from yesterday echoed: *Against Wan Fei, strike fast!*

As the Four Young Masters’ linchpin, Fang Xuan’s strength and martial insight outstripped most, earning him widespread trust.

The elder’s call sounded, and Du Shu sprang into action.

He shot forward like lightning, slamming a heavy fist toward Wan Fei.

Second among the Four Young Masters, Du Shu’s skill was undeniable. His opening move—raw and commanding—drew cheers.

Wan Fei matched his pace. As Du Shu moved, so did she.

*Boom! Boom! Boom…* Their flurry of strikes dazzled the crowd.

“Thanks for stepping aside, Miss Lin,” Tang Yan said offstage, bowing playfully to Lin Dongxue.

“I can’t beat you anyway—why make you show more cards?” Lin Dongxue shrugged, unfazed.

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“Worthy of a city lord’s daughter—big-picture thinking!” Tang Yan flashed a thumbs-up.

“No need to dwell on it. Wan Fei and Du Shu are both tough—who’ll you face next?” Lin Dongxue shifted topics.

The onstage duel was electrifying, cheers rising nonstop.

In under three minutes, they’d traded dozens of blows, still deadlocked.

Tang Yan narrowed his eyes, watching their fierce exchange, then exhaled. “Probably Wan Fei.”

Lin Dongxue blinked. Neither showed signs of faltering.

Sure, they were even now, but men naturally edged out in strength and stamina. Wan Fei held no clear advantage—how’d he figure that?

“Why?” she asked, puzzled.

“They’re close in strength, but Wan Fei’s edge is her grasp of techniques. Early on, it was basic moves, but just now, she used a technique. Low-tier Origin Stage, nothing fancy, but it outclasses regular strikes.

“She casts techniques lightning-fast—Du Shu can’t counter with his own in time.

“That last move gave her a tiny lead. Stack a few more low-tier techniques, and she’ll buy enough breathing room for a Yellow Stage move. Then the gap widens.”

Tang Yan’s calm, confident breakdown left Lin Dongxue staring, dazed. *This guy’s perception is unreal.*

Soon, his prediction proved spot-on.

Wan Fei’s techniques climbed in rank as she clashed with Du Shu.

*Boom!* Seizing an opening, she unleashed a Yellow Stage technique, forcing Du Shu back a step.

The crowd’s eyes locked on her, stunned. *This woman’s no joke!*

“That girl’s sharp—deep understanding of techniques, instinctively streamlining her casts. A real talent,” Mo Bin nodded approvingly from the judges’ platform.

The five city lords stirred. Wan Fei’s Azure Dragon Academy spot was all but locked.

*Strike while they’re down.* Wan Fei pressed her advantage, tilting the fight heavily in her favor.

When she fired off a Mysterious Stage technique, Du Shu barely mustered a Yellow Stage counter.

*Thud, thud, thud!* He staggered back three steps.

For the next few minutes, Wan Fei unleashed a relentless barrage of techniques.

Du Shu finally understood Song Ze’s misery.

His momentum crumbled, and he fell.

“Fang City’s Wan Fei wins!” the red-robed elder declared.

Watching Du Shu get blasted offstage, the crowd reeled in awe and exhilaration. Wan Fei’s ceaseless techniques overpowering her foe set their blood pumping.

Qing City’s lord hid his disappointment. Du Shu’s loss wasn’t weakness—Wan Fei was just freakishly strong.

She’d earned a shot at Fang Xuan.

“Here’s a Vital Spirit Pill—take it to recover. Next match in an hour,” Fang Wentian said, placing a porcelain vial on the table for Wan Fei.

“Next up’s me and Tang Yan, right?” Wan Fei asked the elder from the stage.

“Correct,” he nodded.

“I surrender!” Wan Fei said evenly, turning to step down.

The crowd gaped, dumbfounded, half-thinking they’d misheard.

“What the—Wan Fei just gave up?”

“She could totally challenge Fang Xuan—what’s she thinking?”

“Old flame of Tang Yan’s, maybe?”

“Even if she can’t beat Fang Xuan, surrendering to Cloud City?”

Puzzlement swept the plaza.

“Wan Fei, what are you doing?!” Fang Wentian barked, incredulous.

“A while back, I was in dire straits—near death. Tang Yan saved me,” Wan Fei explained, then fell silent.

Realization hit. She was repaying a debt.

Fang Wentian couldn’t argue that.

*Fine—lets Fang Xuan wrap this up quick.*

Clearing his throat, he said, “It’s a shame, but since Miss Wan Fei’s withdrawn, we move on. Tang Yan and Fang Xuan haven’t fought today. The final showdown of the Eastern Domain Competition starts now! Both talents, to the stage!”