"Now let's talk about joining the National Martial League." Frank Zhao's expression turned serious again.
Ian Song nodded silently, sensing that something unexpected had happened regarding his application to the National Martial League.
Sure enough.
Frank Zhao continued, "Originally, just a few days ago, I had already contacted two friends in the National Martial League to recommend you. Plus, with your Late Postnatal Perfection strength, joining the League should have been a sure thing.
But unexpectedly, right at this critical moment, Hall Master Damon Dunn of the Riverstone City Sub-Hall was transferred to the Shayang State Sub-League as Deputy League Master, and the new Hall Master, Leon Lee of the Lee Family, happens to have some bad blood with our Zhao Family. Leon Lee is also a petty man. Although he can't outright reject my recommendation, he insisted that all candidates undergo a public combat trial, and only the top ten will qualify to join the National Martial League.
There are thirty-six candidates in this assessment, and Leon Lee brought three outstanding juniors from the Lee Family, all of whom have reached Late Postnatal Perfection. They're likely to team up and target you during the trial, making it very hard for you to break into the top ten.
If you fail, you'll have to wait three years before you're eligible to try again.
So, I wanted to ask you—do you want to give up this time and wait for the next round, or do you want to face the challenge head-on?"
"I think you should just give up—you're still so young anyway," Zoe Zhao teased.
Frank Zhao immediately shot her a look, signaling her not to interfere with Ian Song's decision. Joining the National Martial League had plenty of benefits: first, you could get access to cultivation resources unavailable elsewhere; second, the League was full of talented martial artists, making it much easier to exchange ideas and learn.
What's more, Leon Lee will serve as Hall Master for at least three years. Even if you dodge his schemes this time, he'll probably make things difficult for you at the next assessment. That's why I hope you'll face him head-on and pass the trial—to give Leon Lee a taste of his own medicine.
"Brother Zhao, I choose to continue with the assessment," Ian Song said firmly. After all, he's an Innate-Rank Master—why would he fear a bunch of Postnatal fighters?
"Good! Ian Song, I knew I was right about you." Frank Zhao said happily. "In that case, let's head to the assessment site now."
This assessment was set in a hundred-acre artificial forest in the northern suburbs. The rules were simple: each candidate would get a numbered token, then everyone would enter the forest together and try to seize each other's tokens. The ten candidates who ended up with the most tokens would pass and become new members of the National Martial League.
Frank Zhao's ride was a black SUV worth seven or eight hundred thousand yuan, with a pretty spacious interior.
After getting in, Frank Zhao drove straight to the northern suburbs.
A little over ten minutes later, the SUV arrived at the open area outside the artificial forest in the northern suburbs. There, twelve cars—sedans and SUVs of various grades—were parked side by side. Up ahead, nine simple square plastic tables had been set out, each with four long benches.
Only the center table was still empty—the rest were already occupied.
"I didn't expect Frank Zhao to actually show up."
A thin, middle-aged man in a black cloth jacket glanced at Frank Zhao's car and commented with a hint of amusement.
"Heh, isn't this just asking to be humiliated?" sneered the buzz-cut youth sitting at the same table.
"I actually admire his guts. Out of thirty-six candidates, twenty-eight will team up against the one he recommends. Knowing all that and still showing up? That's real courage!" The middle-aged farm woman, who sat beside the man in the black jacket, spoke with a half-smile.
"That's not courage, that's stupidity!"
The buzz-cut youth mocked, but then his eyes landed on Ian Song, who was walking over behind Frank Zhao. He looked surprised. "That youngster must be the one Frank Zhao recommended. So young—what a pity! I heard he's already reached Late Postnatal Perfection, but now he's getting dragged down by Frank Zhao."
Hearing this, both the man in the black jacket and the farm woman looked up, surprised at how young Ian Song was. "That's way too young—not even twenty and already at Late Postnatal Perfection. He's definitely a rare martial arts prodigy."
"What, Brother Wang—are you getting soft for talent?" the farm woman joked.
The man in the black jacket curled his lip. "So what if I admire talent? Am I supposed to take him as a disciple? First off, he's already mixed up with Frank Zhao, which means he's indirectly offended Hall Master Lee. The Zhao Family is in decline, while the Lee Family is at its peak. Logan Lee is likely to become the next Chief of the Main League. Once he takes office, he'll definitely do everything he can to suppress the Zhao Family's influence in the League. Besides, my cultivation is only a notch higher than that kid's—what right do I have to take him as a disciple?"
"True. If the Zhao Family's genius hadn't died unexpectedly, Logan Lee might not have become Chief of the Main League!" the farm woman sighed.
"Careful what you say, Third Sister," the man in the black jacket warned, suddenly more alert.
The farm woman waved her hand dismissively. "I'm just a country woman—used to gossiping about everyone. It's not like Logan Lee would care what someone like me says."
While the three chatted, Frank Zhao, Ian Song, and Zoe Zhao walked over.
"Greetings, Brother Zhao."
"Good to see you, Brother Fengyang!"
"Respect to Hall Master Zhao."
Frank Zhao returned the greetings with a smile and a martial salute. "Greetings to all my fellow martial artists."
After some polite exchanges, Frank Zhao led Ian Song and Zoe Zhao to sit at one of the tables.
He pointed to a dark-skinned, burly young man and a short, gray-haired man in his early fifties sitting at the same table. "Ian, this is Brother Hong Qiang from the Dahong Fist lineage, and this is Elder Chi Quinn from the Golden Blade Sect. Both are your recommenders."
Ian Song quickly stood up and bowed to them. "Greetings, Brother Hong. Greetings, Elder Chi."
"Meeting you in person beats just hearing your name—you're truly handsome and dignified, young man!" Hong Qiang said with a hearty laugh. Elder Chi Quinn nodded with a smile in response.
After waiting about ten minutes, a long, black luxury car turned off the road and pulled in.