Damn it, it's all because of the cursed card passive that made her end up like this.

Su Qi and his younger sister were watching the martial arts exam livestream on a small phone, sharing a pair of earbuds.

Before long, two figures emerged almost simultaneously from opposite preparation tunnels and stepped onto the arena floor.

[A-1 Arena, Match 1: Contestant A-03 vs. Contestant A-128]

The large screen displayed the match details clearly.

On the left stood a tall, burly male student with the number A-03. Dressed in athletic training gear that highlighted his muscular build, he exuded raw power—clearly a martial artist.

On the right, A-128 was a relatively slender boy who looked slightly nervous but maintained steady footing. It was hard to tell whether he was a Cardholder or a cultivator.

"It's starting, bro," Liu Yuan whispered, her small hands tightening around her milk tea cup, the straw slightly dented by her little canine teeth.

Su Qi gave a noncommittal "Mm" in response.

Honestly, why did girls take so long to drink milk tea?

Was this thick cheese tea really that good?

If it were Su Qi, he’d probably chug it down in three minutes flat.

The referee briefly outlined the key rules, emphasizing the scoring system and reminding contestants to showcase well-rounded skills rather than fixating on immediate victory.

"Begin!"

At the command, A-03 charged forward like a tiger descending a mountain, letting out a fierce growl as he closed the distance with surprising speed.

A-128, however, was prepared. He sidestepped nimbly while summoning a faint blue energy shield in his hands.

Thud!

A-03’s fist slammed into the shield with a dull impact.

The shield trembled violently, and A-128 paled slightly from the force, but he held his ground.

"This A-03 isn’t bad in terms of strength, but he’s not exactly flexible in his approach," Su Qi remarked casually. "Look at him—just brute force, no variation in his attacks."

True to his words, A-03 continued his relentless assault, throwing punches and kicks with overwhelming power. Yet A-128 managed to evade or block each strike, staying on the defensive. Though he looked flustered, he avoided serious injury.

Meanwhile, A-128 seized openings to counter with quick, covert strikes—short blades formed from spiritual energy. It wasn’t honorable, but it kept A-03 on his toes.

"Even if the first guy wins, his score won’t be high," Su Qi continued. "A-128 might look passive, but his technique and energy control are solid. He might even outscore his opponent."

The match lasted about six minutes.

In the end, A-03’s superior stamina and strength prevailed. He capitalized on a misstep by A-128 and knocked him to the ground.

The referee declared A-03 the winner.

But then, the screen flashed the scores:

A-03: 78 points.

A-128: 82 points.

The first match had ended with the loser scoring higher!

A murmur of surprise rippled through the audience. Many parents and examinees were caught off guard by the result—and now understood the new grading criteria more clearly.

"Told you," Su Qi said with an "I-called-it" smirk.

Clearly, this first match had been deliberately chosen to make a point.

Ready to deliver a wake-up call to certain types of examinees while giving hope to others with average skills.

Liu Yuan nodded, her mind weighing a few more considerations.

Don’t go too hard—show technique instead…

Seems trickier than just knocking them flat outright.

Time passed, match after match.

Over at Arena A-1, the bouts moved at a decent pace.

Most ended within ten minutes.

Which made sense.

Examinees at this stage naturally lacked stamina, and the arena tests didn’t leave much room for drawn-out maneuvering. Some fights even wrapped up in mere seconds.

Su Qi watched idly, occasionally offering Liu Yuan a pointer or two.

When the eighth match concluded and the referee announced preparations for the ninth, Liu Yuan’s voice carried clear tension: "Brother, it’s almost my turn."

Only forty minutes had passed for eight matches.

Thirteen matches would likely wrap up in another twenty minutes or so.

After speaking, Liu Yuan suddenly frowned. "Mmm… my neck’s a little stiff."

As mentioned earlier, she usually shifted positions often.

Forty minutes in one fixed viewing posture? No wonder her neck ached.

"Need to head to the prep room and stretch?"

Su Qi’s suggestion was perfectly reasonable.

Staying motionless that long really did call for some movement.

"No… I’ll stay here."

"Then take a break. Stop watching the stream for now."

Liu Yuan didn’t reply.

Her small head tilted slightly, as if pondering a solution.

The straw of her milk tea bobbed absently between her lips, lightly gnawed by her little canine teeth.

A moment later, her cheeks seemed to flush faintly as she turned to Su Qi.

"Brother…"

"Yeah?"

"How about… Brother…"

She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear.

After a hushed, indecipherable murmur—

Su Qi: "?"

That… might be inappropriate?

Liu Yuan studied his expression, then pointed a delicate finger at his lap.

"I mean… sitting on your lap. Like this… leaning against you. It’d be easier to watch, and my neck wouldn’t get as sore."

Her explanation stumbled a bit, but the meaning was clear.

Su Qi took in his sister’s hopeful gaze, the faint red tinging her ears, and said nothing more. He simply adjusted his posture, making room.

Liu Yuan’s eyes brightened as she carefully shifted over.

First, she set her milk tea cup securely on the empty seat beside them. Then, with deliberate lightness, she settled onto Su Qi’s lap.

Her petite frame carried the warmth and milky sweetness unique to girls her age.

She leaned back against his chest, adjusting slightly until she found a comfortable angle.

Su Qi instinctively wrapped an arm around her, steadying her so she wouldn’t slip.

"Better now?"

"Mhm!" Her voice held a note of contentment. "Much better."

With Su Qi holding her, Liu Yuan picked up her phone, angling it so both could see the screen.

Their headphones, now redundant with the close proximity, led Su Qi to remove his.

The sound from her earpiece, thanks to its mediocre quality, was just audible enough between them.

Her warm breath grazed the back of his hand, sending a faint, ticklish shiver through him.

He could feel the slightly quickened heartbeat of the girl in his arms—whether due to the upcoming match or the unusual closeness at this moment, he couldn’t tell.

On the screen, the ninth round of the competition had already begun.

The contestants entered the arena, the referee took position, and the battle was about to commence.

But Su Qi’s attention was no longer on that small phone screen at all.

The softness of the girl’s body, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing…

All of it seemed to unfold in slow motion, magnified infinitely in Su Qi’s perception.

Especially when his sister unconsciously adjusted her position, those occasional, slight shifts and presses.

Su Qi’s body stiffened for a moment.

He tried to refocus on the screen, but it was barely effective.

In fact, one might even call it… disastrous.

He didn’t dare move, afraid that even the slightest adjustment would alert the girl in his arms to the abnormality.

The arm wrapped around Liu Yuan also grew somewhat unnatural, his muscles tensing reflexively.

Time seemed to stretch, each second becoming excruciatingly long.

The girl in his arms didn’t seem to notice, still fixated on the phone screen.

Maybe…

She hadn’t realized?

Su Qi clung to that sliver of hope.

The ninth-round battle was exceptionally fierce, the commentator’s voice faintly audible through the headphones, brimming with excitement.

But Su Qi didn’t register a single word.

Every second felt like being roasted over flames.

Just as Su Qi was about to find an excuse to let Liu Yuan sit up first, the girl in his arms suddenly shifted slightly.

She seemed to be adjusting for a more comfortable viewing angle, leaning back a little.

That slight movement was the final straw.

"Hmm?"

Liu Yuan tilted her head back in confusion, lifting her gaze from the phone screen.

She could sense that the "pillow" behind her—her brother—seemed a little off.

Then, abruptly, her movements froze.

Her fair cheeks visibly flushed at an alarming speed, the rosy hue spreading from her face to the delicate tips of her ears.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she lowered her head slightly.

A moment later, she spoke in an almost inaudible whisper:

"Brother… maybe we should find somewhere private… to… spar a little…"

"I’m about to go on stage soon… isn’t there a saying like, 'honing the spear last minute still makes it shine'…"

"Or… some extra training…"

Her voice grew softer with each word, the last few syllables nearly vanishing into silence.

Damn it, it’s all because of that cursed card passive—it must be that stupid dragon bloodline making her act like this.