Chapter Thirty-Two: The Martial Code (Part One)

In the early morning, Ye Ran opened his eyes and sat up in bed, flexing his wrist. The cut delivered by that female Huntress God had been deep, but fortunately, his hand still moved freely. He checked his injuries; after two days of recuperation, scars had already begun to form.

He dressed and got out of bed, trying on the assassin’s outfit Yunmeng had given him, admiring himself in the mirror. Truly, clothes make the man—he looked so much more striking in this attire.

But after a moment’s thought, he took off the assassin’s suit and changed back into his white shirt.

“I’ll only be worthy of that outfit after I pass the martial exam,” he told himself.

Buttoning up, he slipped the jade-colored blades into his sleeves, greeted Freya, and left the house.

Today was the final martial exam of Redleaf Academy’s expanded admissions—an event that would determine his future.

The location for the martial exam was the same as for the written test.

Ye Ran arrived early. The domed hall had not yet opened; at the entrance, only a handful of people waited, some with arms crossed, others whispering among themselves.

In the crowd, he spotted Yamo, whose golden hair stood out.

Yamo saw him too, waved, and walked over.

“Kid, who would’ve thought we’d both draw such rotten luck?” he sighed, feeling a sense of shared misfortune upon seeing Ye Ran.

Both their opponents were top experts from the Temple, making victory seem nearly impossible. Yet their attitudes could not have been more different.

“Luck?” Ye Ran replied. “I was prepared to face the strongest from the start. Drawing ** isn’t so bad, really.”

Though he didn’t know the three opponents well, Ye Ran was aware that compared to Samo Bhikkhu and Yu Bo, ** was a slightly weaker adversary.

Yamo shook his head. “I have to admire your mindset,” he said.

He had already given up any thoughts of revenge against Ye Ran. Back before the first written exam, Ye Ran’s “Dragon-Serpent Flow” had countered Wang Li’s “Eight Trigrams of the Departing Dragon” against Lin Yuan. Though Yamo had suffered a loss, he recognized that his brother’s defeat at Ye Ran’s hands was no injustice.

To challenge him again now would be courting humiliation. Besides, Yamo had come to realize Ye Ran wasn’t a bad person—aloof, proud, perhaps, and prone to showing off, but not malicious.

Soon, the doors of the domed hall opened automatically. Inside, the scene had changed entirely since the written exam. The seating on either side was sparse, but the circular arena in the center—about eight meters in radius—immediately caught the eye. Raised half a meter above the floor, it shimmered with a strange metallic luster. It was not made of stone, but forged from a special silver-white metal.

Two meters behind the arena, a long table was set. Gao Taiqing and Lu Yanhé were already seated behind it. Beside them stood a gentle-looking middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a suit, leaning on a cane with a warm smile.

The hall gradually filled. The sixty martial exam candidates trickled in, joined by many Redleaf Academy students eager to watch the spectacle.

Ye Ran sat quietly on a chair to the south.

The Temple’s elite arrived together—Mishe, Samo Bhikkhu, Yu Bo, and **. Their entrance drew all eyes; their bearing set them apart, and their distinctive Temple adornments made anonymity impossible.

Samo Bhikkhu, Yu Bo, and ** strode to the neat seats on the north side, but Mishe, after scanning the crowd and spotting Ye Ran, walked straight toward him.

** frowned, watching her for a moment before following Yu Bo and Samo Bhikkhu.

Many gazes followed Mishe to Ye Ran.

“Look, Mishe from the Sixth Temple—she’s going over to Ye Ran,” someone whispered.

“Surprising, but I heard Ye Ran and ** even clashed over that ice goddess before.”

A murmur of speculation rippled through the onlookers.

Yamo glanced at Ye Ran in astonishment. This kid seemed to hide many secrets.

“Ye Ran…” Mishe smoothed her water-blue skirt and sat beside him, calling his name softly despite the crowd’s attention.

“If you have something to say, please say it,” Ye Ran replied, eyes averted, inner energy flowing slowly within.

“Could you… withdraw from this exam?” Mishe seemed to summon all her courage to make the request.

Ye Ran’s brows knitted as he turned to look at her. Mishe’s gaze flickered for an instant before she met his eyes directly.

Before him sat a woman with delicate features, dreamlike and ethereal. Her face had changed little from a year ago, yet Ye Ran felt as if he no longer knew her.

But in Mishe’s eyes, Ye Ran was still the same. He had changed—grown more volatile upon seeing her—but she knew this was who he truly was.

“Do you know what this martial exam means to me?” Ye Ran asked, forcing down the anger in his heart.

“I… know…”

“Then why ask me to give up? You must understand—no one from the slums wants to stay there. You don’t, and neither do I. No one would forgo a chance to escape. If you can defy fate, why can’t I?”

“Ye Ran, that’s not what I meant…” Mishe lowered her head, shrinking under his questioning like a chastened child.

Yamo and the others around them were stunned. Who didn’t know the Sixth Temple’s ice goddess was famed for her coldness? In a year at the Temple, she’d spoken so little one could count her words on one hand—always distant with everyone.

Yet here she was, before Ye Ran, shrinking like a girl caught doing wrong. Heaven, what on earth was going on?

Even **, seated in the north with grand bravado, looked grim. He’d pursued Mishe for over half a year, but had never seen her show such demeanor to anyone—least of all him.

Yet Mishe seemed oblivious to their stares, her eyes holding a trace of sorrow as she looked at Ye Ran.

“Ye Ran, this martial exam isn’t what you think it is… Will you listen to me, just this once…?”

“I can’t,” Ye Ran cut her off before she could finish, rising to his feet without meeting her gaze.

He’d always dreaded her pleading with him. Always, if she wanted something of him, he would push himself to do it at any cost.

But not this time.

“Miss Mishe, I want to take Freya away from Mudbrick Street, to break free from the chains of poverty, to live somewhere new and give us both a future. Please respect my decision.”

His words were calm but resolute.

Mishe’s fingers trembled slightly. She knew that the words “Miss Mishe” from Ye Ran’s lips meant he had severed all their past connections.

Ye Ran walked away, putting five meters between them before pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Behind the arena, the middle-aged man cleared his throat, signaling everyone to quiet down.

The final martial exam was about to begin.