Hearing that Miao Miu and the others were truly gone, Situ Han couldn't hold back his tears. Though it's said that real men shed tears only for profound reasons, the Huoyan unit members have cried more than their share recently.

"Thankfully..." Marshal Wanxing is still alive.

Shao Qi shook his head, saying, "Being alive or dead makes no difference to me now. I feel as if I'm already broken, and that's why I haven't reached out to you all."

Si Tu Han was ashen-faced, but in the end, he managed a hopeful smile. "Being alive is a blessing. As for the rest... there will always be a way. I'll inform Zhou Ge first. He's always refused to believe you've passed away."

Shao Qi tapped the table and shook his head, "Go tell him in person, not over the phone. Stop focusing solely on Gu Zhao. Look into Lin Tingyu. His methods aren’t typical of Gu Zhao. Lin Tingyu is better at hiding."

Chapter 229: Fortunate Turn of Events

After Zhou You left early and returned late for two consecutive days, on the third day, Elder Shao became restless. He asked Xuan Jue to take him to the scene, eager to witness Zhou You's martial prowess.

Xuan Jue, previously looking for an excuse, immediately drove him and Shao Zhen to the stadium. The vicinity was swarmed with journalists and broadcasters, preventing entry.

"Unauthorized personnel are not allowed!" The guard at the entrance forcefully pushed people out.

Xuan Jue scanned his surroundings, attempting to sneak in through a lax guard's post. With such a vast venue, he believed there had to be a way in.

Before he could act, Elder Shao stepped forward, brandishing a credential. The two guards instantly showed them respect and ushered them inside.

Xuan Jue, utterly confused, asked, "Grandfather, are you a senior member of the Martial Arts Association?"

The elder chuckled, shaking his head, "I'm not, but my grandson is."

"Isn't your grandson..." Isn't it Marshal Shao?

The old man grinned, "I used my grandson's credentials to fool them. I don't even know when he got this pass. It’s been lying around at home unused, so I thought I'd give it a shot."

"You can do that?" Xuan Jue was completely taken in. Upon entering, they saw the stadium divided into numerous fighting rings. Each had martial artists competing, with referees, record keepers on the side, and spectators in the stands.

These spectators were waiting competitors. Upon their entrance, some did glance their way, but the trio—an elderly man, a young man, and a woman—didn't attract much attention.

"Let's find a seat." They settled in a corner of the stands. Xuan Jue scanned the area with binoculars but couldn't spot his master, so he focused on the fights instead.

After a few matches, he felt disappointed. The competitors seemed subpar. He reckoned he could win ten matches in a row against them.

As martial arts have evolved, most practitioners remain at a beginner level. True martial masters are rare. Traditional weapon combats lack flair and don’t come with the special effects seen in video games, making them seem ordinary.

"Look! Contestant 10006 is up!" someone nearby exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to the rings.

Taking advantage of his youth, Xuan Jue grabbed a neighboring contestant, asking, "Brother, who's number 10006?"

"You're not competing, are you?"

"Heh, no... my master is."

The man nonchalantly pointed, saying, "See over there? On ring seven, the lean middle-aged man is number 10006. That's his contestant number today. He's formidable."

"How formidable?"

"Well, in the past matches, he's defeated opponents with a single move. So swift, it seemed he never made a move. The Martial Arts Association even interviewed him, suspecting cheating."

"That's nothing. If my master were on stage, he'd surely perform the same."

Xuan Yue didn't recognize that the man on stage was his master, Zhou You. His disguise was so impeccable it deceived even his own disciple.

The man scoffed and challengingly said, "Who is your master? Name him. If I haven't even heard of him, you're surely boasting."

As Xuan Yue began to respond, he suddenly hesitated, then shook his head, "I won't tell you. You'll find out soon enough."

He believed that with Zhou You's skills, if he wanted, the championship title would undoubtedly be his.

The man didn't bother arguing with a kid, and turned his attention to platform number seven. As the referee's voice echoed, the opponent charged forward, brandishing a large blade, directing its power towards his adversary's head.

Yet, somehow, the blade halted about fifty centimeters from its target. Seconds later, the audience watched the swordsman fly backward, landing outside the platform.

"Contestant 10005 is eliminated. Contestant 10006 is the winner," declared the referee.

"Again? How does he do it?"

"Did he truly not cheat?"

"Who is he? Could he be a martial expert beyond the general level?"

"Must be a Psychic Manipulator. Only they can defeat opponents without physically attacking."

"But he didn't use any concealed weapons either."

"I've heard of a martial art that uses psychic energy to manipulate an opponent's neural pathways, thereby controlling their actions. Could he know such a technique?"

"Isn't that a legendary martial art? Someone with that ability wouldn't need to participate in preliminary rounds, would they?"

According to the competition rules, martial experts could directly enter the finals. Zhou You, having concealed his identity and registered as a novice, had to undergo the preliminaries.

There were suggestions to re-evaluate his level, but Zhou You declined.

Being an exception, the Martial Arts Association simply turned a blind eye.

"After this round, there are still five thousand contestants. They say three rounds will be held today, selecting a thousand for the finals."