Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

The man took the toothpick out of his mouth, twirled it between his fingers, sized Red Wolf up and down, and gave him a disdainful smile. "So what if I said he was bragging? You're sticking up for him? Who are you to him? His underling?"

Red Wolf clenched his fists, his skin flushed an unnatural red, his veins bulged, and his bulging veins were clearly visible.

A violent aura emanated from him, like an enraged wild beast poised to pounce and tear at any moment.

The atmosphere in the cafeteria suddenly became tense. Some people began to retreat, some gripped their chopsticks as weapons, and some had already reached into their pockets to retrieve concealed weapons.

"Red Wolf." Sun Fan's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear, like a needle piercing the noisy air.

Red Wolf stiffened for a moment and turned to look at Sun Fan.

Sun Fan didn't look up, still eating the braised pork. He picked up the last piece of meat, put it in his mouth, chewed it slowly, swallowed it, wiped his mouth with a tissue, and then looked up at the second-year student.

Just one glance.

There was no murderous intent, no oppressive aura, not even a trace of emotion. It was like a stagnant pool, so calm it sent chills down your spine.

The second-year student felt extremely uncomfortable under his gaze and subconsciously took a half-step back, then stopped abruptly the instant he realized he was retreating. His expression changed, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing.

Sun Fan looked away, picked up his cup, took a sip of water, and then said to Red Wolf, "Sit down. Let's eat."

Red Wolf stared at the second-year student, his chest heaving violently, like a beast chained up, wanting to pounce but unable to. After several seconds, he took a deep breath, calmed his boiling blood, plopped back into his chair, picked up his chopsticks, fiercely poked a piece of rib, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it with a crunching sound.

The atmosphere in the cafeteria gradually returned to normal. Whispers began again, but this time they were much quieter and more subdued, as if someone had pressed the volume button.

Du Ming kicked Red Wolf under the table and whispered, "You acted impulsively."

"The class monitor hasn't said anything, why are you sticking your neck out?"

"I wasn't impulsive," Red Wolf mumbled, chewing on a rib. "I just can't stand their nonsense."

"You have to listen even if you don't like it," Du Ming said. "Maybe it's a good thing."

"Good news?"

Insulting language has become a good thing?

There's no such logic in the world.

Du Ming shook his head and said only four words: "Hide your strength and bide your time."

Red Wolf stopped talking and just chewed his ribs even louder.

Sun Fan put down his chopsticks, stood up, and carried his tray to the recycling area. Dong Dahai followed him, passing through a sea of ​​stares.

Some people watched them leave, some glanced sideways, and some didn't even look at them, burying their heads in their food as if nothing had happened.

In the afternoon, Zhang Guangcheng met with Sun Fan in his office.

When Sun Fan entered, he saw Yao Xiaozheng coming out of Zhang Guangcheng's office. He paused for a moment, then resumed his normal pace and nodded to Zhang Guangcheng.

"Old Zhang."

Zhang Guangcheng pointed to the chair opposite him: "Sit."

Sun Fan sat down.

Zhang Guangcheng leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. He glanced at Sun Fan, seemingly considering how to begin.

"Sun Fan, I called you here today for two things," Zhang Guangcheng finally spoke, his voice a few decibels deeper than usual. "First, the year-end competition."

Sun Fan waited for him to continue.

"The year-end competition is a three-grade free-for-all. The rules are different from the monthly exams—it's not a class challenge, it's an individual battle. All students in the school, regardless of grade or class, will be drawn into groups and compete in pairs. The winners advance, and the losers are eliminated. The top ten will be determined and broadcast live to the entire school."

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, and looked at Sun Fan.

"Logically speaking, there aren't many records of first-year students participating in the year-end competition. It's not that they can't participate, it's that there are too few people who are capable of participating. First-year students have two years less training than third-year students, which is a huge difference. Going there would be like sending them to their deaths. But you're not an ordinary first-year student."

He paused. "You killed the ferocious tiger. A ferocious tiger at the Qi Gathering Realm."

Sun Fan didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

"So, someone suggested you participate in the year-end competition. Not as a spectator, but as a contestant. You'll be competing against those third-year students who are at the fourth or soon-to-be fifth level." Zhang Guangcheng tapped his finger heavily on the armrest. "This matter has already caused a huge uproar among the teachers."

"What's all the noise about?" Sun Fan asked.

"Can you win an argument?" Zhang Guangcheng said. "Some say that if you can kill a ferocious tiger, you can kill other experts of the four realms. Some say you're just lucky, that you might not be able to beat others. Some say your swordsmanship is strange, that it's some kind of technique that transcends realms, but such a technique cannot be used continuously. There are many different opinions, and no one can agree on the whole story."

He looked into Sun Fan's eyes: "What do you think?"

Sun Fan was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Mr. Zhang, what do you think?"

Zhang Guangcheng paused for a moment, then smiled.

"You've got the nerve to ask me that," he shook his head. "My opinion is simple—you can fight. But not now."

Sun Fan's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"There are still two months until the year-end competition. In those two months, you might be able to advance another step and reach the Qi Gathering Realm. But even if you reach the Qi Gathering Realm, you'll only rank in the middle among the third-year students. The Four Kings and Five Tiger Generals, hey, that's a pretty impressive title."

"But these kids are all pretty skilled; at your current level, you won't get anywhere."

Zhang Guangcheng paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words.

"However, I still suggest you give it a try. The year-end competition is the best whetstone."

"As long as we play with style, winning or losing doesn't matter."

Sun Fan nodded.

It was almost dark when Sun Fan came out of Zhang Guangcheng's office.

The corridor lights weren't on yet, only a dim light shone through the window at the end. He walked slowly, his mind still on what Zhang Guangcheng had said.

At the end-of-year competition, students from three grades battled it out against senior students from four different regions.

He admitted that Zhang Guangcheng had a point.

In two months, it may be difficult for him to make any further progress and reach the Qi Gathering Realm.

Moreover, even if one reaches the Qi Gathering Realm, one would only rank in the middle among third-year students.

Which of the Four Kings and Five Tiger Generals hadn't honed their skills at this level for at least a year? Their mastery of internal energy, control of the battle rhythm, and understanding of their opponents' psychology were far beyond what a novice like him could match.

But he still wanted to give it a try.

It's not because of vanity, it's because he needs pressure.

His greatest pressure came from the guidance of masters. But now that he has entered the Meridian Opening Realm, with the improvement of his swordsmanship, he can no longer find that kind of pressure among his peers.

The opponent wasn't strong enough.

Not strong enough to force out what was inside his sword.