Courtyard House: My Time Travel is a Bit Too Strong

Anyone with a discerning eye can see how lucrative the martial arts and combat industry is; and no one dares to touch Lin Quan's position in the circle.

With nothing else to do, he joined forces with several trustworthy organizations to set up a martial arts club.

Points were set up simultaneously in eight locations: China, the United States, Russia, Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, South Korea, and South Korea.

After six months of preparation, the first Global Martial Arts and Combat Championship has begun.

The rules are simple: unrestricted hand-to-hand combat, and a waiver of liability must be signed before stepping onto the stage.

The champion will receive 100 million US pounds, the runner-up 50 million, and the third-place winner 10 million; those placing fourth through tenth will each receive a 1 million pound bonus. Additionally… anyone who defeats Lin Quan on the spot will receive 1 billion US pounds.

The term "supplementary cultivation fund" means to assist in cultivation.

Dozens of TV stations and video platforms around the world broadcast the entire event live.

The first-day broadcast fees, GG (Golden Goose) revenue, and tips totaled over 300 million US dollars.

The next day it rose to over 500 million.

……

On the day of the semi-finals, revenue exceeded 1.56 billion.

On the night of the finals, it broke 3 billion.

The champion, runner-up, and third-place winners were all Chinese; eight of the top ten were from China.

Lin Quan personally presented the awards and asked each of the top ten participants, but no one volunteered to challenge them.

Several months passed in the blink of an eye, and the second edition started as scheduled.

It's held annually, without fail.

Each regional branch first holds a preliminary round, with twenty spots available; then they advance to the main competition, where the winners stay and the losers leave.

On stage, life and death hang in the balance; off stage, bets swirl.

In a fight between martial artists, the outcome can be decided in the blink of an eye.

The key point is that No. 1 Middle School was defeated on the spot.

Despite being the club's founder, Lin Quan rarely appears on the field.

He would visit the academy on the island every few days, but spent the rest of his time at Croft Manor.

Life is ordinary, but not empty.

Surrounded by ten top women... Laura, Tina, Shin Hye-min, Connie... plus Hailey joining forces, he barely had time to catch his breath.

Ten years have passed, like turning the page of a sheet of paper.

The new finals have concluded, and the champion and runner-up are still Chinese.

The third-place finisher, Tyson, is from the Star Country and possesses the cultivation level of Transformation Realm; his talent is indeed outstanding.

After Lin Quan went on stage to present the awards, both the champion and the runner-up shook their heads and did not accept the challenge.

Tyson took a half step forward, his gaze intense: "Mr. Lin, I challenge you."

Lin Quan nodded: "See you here at 10 a.m. on the 3rd of next month."

It's a deal.

Lin Quan didn't say anything more and turned to leave the stage.

谷拻

The news caused a worldwide sensation.

When Tyson was to face the unfathomable Lin Quan, some were surprised, some waited, and some asserted, "He's strong enough; he might actually win."

"The third-place finisher can beat Lin Quan? Who would believe that?"

"Lin Quan is thirty-eight, while Tyson is only twenty-five."

"Tyerson was injured before the semi-finals. If he hadn't been injured, the championship might have been his."

More than twenty days later, Lin Quan entered the fighting arena as usual.

Tyson has recovered from his old injury and is back to his peak form.

As soon as the referee finished speaking, he raised his leg and charged forward.

Lin Quan neither dodged nor retreated, but went straight for him, delivering a powerful eight-palm strike to his face.

Tyson had no time to parry; he was sent flying through the air, blood spurting from his mouth, and his eyes closed while he was still in mid-air.

"Is the founder of the martial arts fighting tournament really that tough?"

"When skilled fighters clash, they don't waste time; it's common for them to decide the winner in one move."

"A hit to a vital spot can cause paralysis at best, and death on the spot at worst."

"A man nearing forty, and he still moves so quickly?"

"Tyerson didn't even have time to react before he was knocked unconscious."

"I've heard that beyond the 'Transformation Strength' level in Chinese martial arts, there are also 'Elixir Strength' and '罡劲'... Just which level has Lin Quan reached?"

"At least Dan Jin. Tyson is one of the best in Hua Jin, and he has a strong physique. If Lin Quan hadn't reached Dan Jin, he wouldn't be able to suppress him."

"My name is Park Ho-woo. If only the top ten were eligible to challenge, that billion US pounds would have been in my pocket long ago."

"You? No matter how high you kick in Taekwondo, you'd be no match for Tyson in a real fight, and you still want to mess with Lin Quan?"

"South Korea is the best in the universe, and Master Park might actually be capable."

Lin Quan ignored the gossip. He was standing in the training hall, watching Shen Huimin finish a set of movements, nodding and noting down a few deviations.

Three years later, runner-up Charles took to the stage to challenge.

With one slap, Charles knelt down, coughed up blood, and collapsed.

Five years later, champion Engel took the stage.

With the same palm strike, Engel fell backward, his face covered in blood and foam.

China has produced many Dan Jin masters, and even a few Gang Jin talents have emerged.

But none of these Dan Jin practitioners signed up for the competition.

Ten years later, Lin Quan, at the age of fifty-six, takes the stage again.

It was the same palm strike. The opponent fell to the ground with a thud, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Ten years later, Lin Quan, at the age of sixty-six, took to the stage as usual.

One blow, and he still fell.

"Holy crap, over sixty and still this strong?"

"I haven't lost since my early twenties, and I've been consistent for over forty years."

"He dares to offer a 1 billion US pound bounty, not out of arrogance, but because no one can break through his defenses."

Even at eighty years old, he could still defeat his enemies with a single palm strike.

At ninety years old, he can still strike with a single blow.

He had just turned 100 when he stepped into the ring again.

With a casual wave of his hand, his opponent's chest caved in half an inch, and he was thrown away, spitting blood.

Back at Croft Estate, he slowly walked past a row of tombstones.

Laura, Hailey... Shin Hye-min, they all passed away a few years ago.

He was left living alone.

"Go to China for a while."

With that thought, the white-haired Lin Quan picked up his old suitcase and boarded a flight to China.

He traveled all over the country, teaching the "Martial Arts Manual" to one young person after another.

The martial arts combat tournament is held annually and has long been the world's number one event.

The further you go, the more challengers there will be.

A billion US dollars act like a magnet, attracting countless eyes.

On the day the top ten contestants collectively volunteered to compete, Lin Quan glanced around and said, "Come on, all of you."

Ten people, one palm strike each.

Ten mouthfuls of blood, ten faces, all falling face down.

"As long as I live, no one can stand firmly on this stage."

Before he could finish speaking, he had vanished... leaving only a fleeting shadow thirty meters away.

In the world of Tomb Raider, he roamed alone for over two hundred years, his whereabouts now unknown.

Three hundred years in the illusion, but only a moment in reality.

The essence, energy, and spirit, wrapped in memories, sink into the body.

He closed his eyes for a moment, processing the joys and sorrows, life and death of those years.

Nearly three hundred years have passed, but they haven't broken him; instead, they've made his heart more resolute and his will more steadfast.

A faint smile appeared on his face, unassuming yet resolute.

"Take a few months' rest, then go to the illusionary realm to temper your mind."

Once he had calmed down, he put on his apron and started cooking, preparing three meals a day without fail.

His clones often travel to the Immortal Realm to guide Ji Taizu on the timing of his internal energy cultivation and help Chief Steward Zhou correct his breathing rhythm.

A few days later, he would fly to Paradise Island to help Wanda break down her moves and practice with Natasha for three minutes.

Life moves at a leisurely pace; there are things to do, people to think of, the aroma of food, and the sound of the wind.

I spent the Chinese New Year at home, visited relatives and friends afterward, and then returned to my old routine: practicing martial arts in the morning, fishing in the afternoon, and reading books in the evening.

Sometimes he would invite Liu Yu, Ma Tao, and Li Xiong to have hot pot and baijiu (Chinese liquor) while they drank and boasted.

Sometimes I drive alone, turn into an unnamed wild pond, cast my line, wait for fish, and watch the clouds.

Within the main universe of China, large numbers of people have migrated to Mars, Venus, and even the world of Mr. Zombie.

There are countless abandoned fishponds, reservoirs, and fish ponds.