Three Hundred

Early the next morning,

Jiangcheng Gymnasium was packed with countless spectators who had come to watch the excitement.

Notaries arrived at the scene promptly,

and the Martial Arts Association also dispatched personnel to maintain order.

According to the Martial Arts Association's regulations,

when two parties have irreconcilable grievances—to prevent vicious vendettas—

they may resolve their conflict by signing a life-and-death duel agreement.

This was a last resort,

as incidents of martial artists disrupting public order were all too common.

The Martial Arts Association had been overwhelmed dealing with such cases.

Han Ming arrived early at the Jiangcheng Martial Arts Association.

Before leaving, he had already started his livestream.

His first words upon reaching Jiangcheng Gymnasium were directed at the camera:

"I guarantee Chen Feng hasn't arrived yet."

"After all, he’s here to die—hahaha..."

The stream was immediately flooded with comments:

"Maybe he’s already fled overnight."

"A high-level martial artist picking on a novice—look at you, so full of yourself."

"Don’t get cocky, streamer. You might get humbled."

"Bet Chen Feng’s regretting this now."

...

Watching the viewer count rise, Han Ming grinned with satisfaction.

"New followers, hit that subscribe button! Your streamer’s about to serve up a beatdown."

His fanbase was nearing 500,000,

and after this duel, he was sure to gain even more.

Selling merch on stream with a few female assistants sounded way better than being a martial arts instructor.

Soon, Chen Feng arrived at Jiangcheng Gymnasium with his two disciples.

Taking in the scene,

Chen Feng was momentarily stunned.

He hadn’t expected such a crowd.

"Master, maybe we shouldn’t go through with this," Jin Youxi said, her voice laced with worry.

She had spent the entire night scrolling through her phone, her eyes now ringed with dark circles.

Online, almost no one believed in Chen Feng’s chances.

She had also learned that Han Ming’s physical energy level exceeded 600,

and that he had trained in the Wind God Leg technique at the War God Dojo for decades.

His skill level was likely far from low.

Though she knew her master was strong,

fear still gnawed at her.

If something happened to him... how would she go on?

Chen Feng ruffled Jin Youxi’s hair reassuringly.

"Do you really have so little faith in your master?"

"Don’t worry. With you here, I’d never dare to die."

Liu Weiwei watched Jin Youxi with envy,

wishing she could cling to Chen Feng’s arm as freely.

She wanted to, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She wasn’t too concerned about Chen Feng’s life-and-death duel.

Back in the provincial capital, she had witnessed him single-handedly cripple five armed thugs.

Though she didn’t know his exact rank,

she was certain he was no mere novice.

Besides, Chen Feng wasn’t the type to act recklessly.

If he was confident, he would win.

Liu Weiwei had made up her mind—she would trust him unconditionally.

Han Ming sneered as Chen Feng appeared.

"You actually showed up!"

"Chen Feng, you’d really throw your life away just to save face?"

Chen Feng ignored the taunts.

He walked straight to the notaries’ table.

Han Ming scoffed and followed.

The notary looked at them both.

"Are you both certain about this?"

"Some disputes don’t need to escalate this far."

Han Ming smirked.

"Some people just don’t know their limits. If he wants to die, who am I to stop him?"

"Though if he kneels and kowtows right now, I might forgive him."

Chen Feng continued to disregard him.

Words were pointless—he wasn’t one for empty talk.

"I’ve made my decision. Let’s proceed with the agreement."

The notary sighed and produced the life-and-death contract, beginning the formalities.

First, they registered their names and ID numbers.

Then came the critical question:

"What is your physical energy level?"

Han Ming grinned triumphantly at Chen Feng and announced,

"614."

He wanted to see Chen Feng’s reaction—fear, panic, dread.

But he was disappointed.

There was none of that.

Only calm indifference.

Then Chen Feng stated his own level.

"300."

300?!

Han Ming wondered if he’d misheard.

He glanced at the number written on the contract.

300.

How could it be 300?

Shouldn’t it be just over 100?

"Impossible! He’s lying!"

"Four months ago, he was just a novice with 100!"

"How could he reach mid-level martial artist so quickly?"

Han Ming’s voice rose in protest.

For some reason, seeing that number made his heart skip a beat.

He desperately hoped Chen Feng was bluffing to intimidate him.

His assistant nudged him.

"Han Ming, watch your expression."

"He’s still 300 levels below you—why are you panicking?"

Meanwhile, the livestream exploded with comments:

"Look at the streamer’s face—he just got scared stiff!"

"Even if Chen Feng’s at 300, you’re at 600. Why freak out?"

"But is Chen Feng telling the truth?"

"From 100 to 300 in four months?"

"No way. No one improves that fast."

...

The notary turned to Chen Feng.

"Are you certain about this number?"

"Falsifying your level in a life-and-death duel means a visit from the Martial Arts Association."

Chen Feng knew the rules.

Before discharging his disciple from the hospital yesterday,

he had taken a physical energy test.

He’d anticipated skepticism today,

and didn’t want to waste time re-testing if challenged.

He pulled out the report and handed it over.

"This is my test result from Jiangcheng Martial Arts Hospital yesterday."

The notary checked the red seal, then made a call to verify.

Turning back to Han Ming, he said,

"He’s telling the truth. You may now proceed with the fingerprint."

"One last reminder—have you both prepared your wills?"

Han Ming didn’t hear a word.

His mind was stuck on the notary’s confirmation.

How could it be real?

Then he remembered Chen Feng’s last duel.

Just yesterday, he’d rewatched the footage of Chen Feng fighting Sha Heming.

Back then, Sha Heming’s energy level was nearly four times higher than Chen Feng’s.

Yet he’d been utterly crushed,

his dantian destroyed.

Now, Han Ming’s level was only twice Chen Feng’s.

Did that mean... he was in danger?

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

His thoughts raced:

"So that’s why Chen Feng was so confident."

"He’s not that weak novice anymore."

Chen Feng pressed his fingerprint onto the contract without hesitation.

The notary waved the ink pad at Han Ming.

"Your turn."

"Hey! It’s your turn—why are you spacing out?"

Han Ming snapped back to reality.

But as the notary extended the ink pad,

he instinctively took a step back.