This Martial Saint is Too Cautious

He was surprisingly even-tempered.

Any other disciple of the Lin Family would have flown into a humiliated rage long ago if challenged so publicly.

But Lin Yan remained calm and composed from start to finish, even readily accepting the challenge.

Either it was because he came from a branch family and lacked the arrogance of the Lin Family’s main Fifth Branch, or he was genuinely confident in his abilities.

In the clearing, Zhao Zixuan had already assumed his stance.

He stood firm, his feet planted in a stable stance. His right hand was forward and his left back, his fingers slightly curled, vaguely forming the shape of tiger claws.

The Zhao Family’s Fierce Tiger Claw.

A Mid-grade Technique, renowned for its aggressive power and specialization in close-quarters combat.

Zhao Zixuan had broken through to the Third-Time of Skin Smoothing at eighteen and had trained for two years since. His Qi Blood was abundant, and his foundation was solid.

Among the younger generation of Boshan County, few could defeat him.

"Young Master Lin, if you please."

Zhao Zixuan spoke, his tone laced with an air of certain victory.

Lin Yan walked to face him. He didn’t assume any particular stance, just stood there casually.

"You first."

Zhao Zixuan’s brow furrowed slightly.

’Is he looking down on me?’

He held back no longer. With a push of his foot, he lunged toward Lin Yan like a fierce tiger descending a mountain.

His right claw shot out, fingers like hooks, aimed straight for Lin Yan’s face.

The wind from the strike was sharp, whistling as it tore through the air.

The onlookers let out a collective gasp.

The strike was fast and vicious, showing no intention of holding back.

Zhao Tieshan’s brow knotted in concern.

However, Lin Yan merely turned slightly to the side.

It was a small, minimal movement, yet it was just enough to evade the strike perfectly.

As Zhao Zixuan’s first strike missed, his left claw immediately followed, sweeping toward Lin Yan’s ribs.

Lin Yan turned again, evading it once more.

Zhao Zixuan’s expression shifted.

He had thrown two consecutive moves without so much as touching the hem of his opponent’s clothes.

’This isn’t right.’

He let out a low shout and attacked with both claws, his movements suddenly accelerating. A flurry of claw afterimages enveloped Lin Yan, targeting the vital points all over his body.

The essence of the Tiger Form Fist lay in "pouncing" and "tearing." Once the assault began, it was like a tiger pouncing on its prey—a relentless, continuous attack that gave the opponent no room to breathe.

But Lin Yan simply sidestepped, glided, retreated, and turned...

Each time, he dodged the attacks with perfect timing, as if he had predicted the exact landing spot of every move.

The more Zhao Zixuan fought, the more frantic he became.

Ten moves.

Twenty moves.

His assault grew fiercer, but his breathing grew heavier.

In contrast, Lin Yan’s breathing remained steady and his footwork composed.

Zhou Yuanqing and his two companions exchanged a look. ’This Young Master Lin’s footwork is exquisite.’

"A member of the great Lin Family only knows how to dodge? If you have any guts, face me head-on!"

Zhao Zixuan roared in fury. He brought his claws together and struck fiercely at Lin Yan’s chest again. He put all his strength into this move; the wind from his claws howled with an unstoppable momentum, as if to tear Lin Yan in half.

Lin Yan smiled. ’I was just testing the subtleties of my Smoke-Stepping Technique. Does this Zhao Zixuan really think I’m just trying to wear him down and deplete his Qi Blood with fancy footwork?’

"As you wish!"

This time, Lin Yan didn’t sidestep to evade. His body shifted back half a step, but it wasn’t a retreat—it was to gather power, like a bowstring being drawn taut to its absolute limit.

The next moment, the bowstring was released.

Lin Yan’s right fist shot out from his waist. There were no fancy techniques, just a simple, straight punch.

Yet, the instant he threw the punch, everyone felt an invisible, oppressive force.

The wind of the punch arrived before the fist itself.

The force of the punch exploded like a physical shockwave, letting out a low WHOOM, as if something heavy had been violently flung through the air.

A few of the Single-Time Skin Smoothing Martial Artists standing nearby felt their eardrums vibrate and involuntarily took half a step back.

In the crowd, a sharp glint flashed in Zhao Tieshan’s eyes. His right hand, hidden beneath his sleeve, lifted slightly before he ultimately let it fall again.

Zhao Zixuan’s pupils contracted. He saw Lin Yan’s fist and wanted to change his move, to dodge, but he found it was utterly impossible to evade.

Fist and claw collided.

"BANG!"

A huge, muffled boom, like a heavy hammer striking a great leather drum, made the hearts of everyone present tremble.

The moment Zhao Zixuan’s claws touched the fist, he felt an overwhelming power, like a landslide, crash down upon him. His fingers felt as if they had seized an iron mountain. Excruciating pain shot through his knuckles, and his entire arm went instantly numb, as if his very bones were about to be shattered by the impact.

Even more terrifying was the Penetration Power of the blow.

The Fist Force passed through his claws and slammed directly into his chest, making his internal organs tremble. His Qi Blood roiled, and a coppery tang welled up in his throat.

PTUI! He spat out a mouthful of blood, his body staggering backward, completely out of his control.

One step, two steps... he stumbled back more than ten steps before finally managing to stop himself, nearly thirty feet away. He clutched his chest with his right hand, his face deathly pale.

The entire area fell deathly silent.

The Second-Time Skin Smoothing Martial Artists over there stared dumbly at Lin Yan, their eyes filled with utter shock.

One punch.

Just one punch.

Zhao Zixuan, one of the most outstanding talents of Boshan County’s younger generation, had been defeated. He couldn’t even take a single punch from Lin Yan.

"Fist Momentum."

Sun Desheng licked his lips, his gaze fixed dead on Lin Yan’s fist.

He practiced the Heart-Pushing Palm, a technique that focused on the power of one’s fists and palms. He knew exactly what Lin Yan’s punch represented.

This was ’Momentum’. He had been practicing the Heart-Pushing Palm for ten years, and his greatest desire was to cultivate Palm Momentum, but he had always fallen just short.

Forget Zhao Zixuan; aside from Zhao Tieshan, no one present could have taken that punch from Lin Yan.

"Thank you for the match."

Lin Yan’s calm voice broke the silence. Zhao Zixuan’s face was pale with shame and utterly mortified.

He had been the one to provoke the fight, yet he couldn’t even withstand a single punch. The shocked gazes of the crowd felt like a silent, searing humiliation.

Zhao Tieshan was the first to react. "Young Brother Lin, you are truly formidable! To have comprehended ’Momentum’ at such a young age... you are worthy of the Lin Family name."

After praising Lin Yan, Zhao Tieshan turned his gaze to Zhao Zixuan. "You bastard! Now you see the gap between you and a true genius! You two, help him up and get out of my sight."

The two Martial Artists at his side hurriedly stepped forward to help Zhao Zixuan leave.

"Young Brother Lin, let’s go back and continue our drinks."

There wasn’t a trace of anger on Zhao Tieshan’s face over his nephew being injured. He stepped forward, took Lin Yan by the arm, and led him back inside.

"I will give you a proper accounting for this matter. That little bastard won’t get off with just a few injuries."

Lin Yan just smiled and didn’t respond.

The banquet resumed. This time, even more people came to offer toasts to Lin Yan, and compared to before, their demeanor was much more humble.

This was especially true for the three Skin Smoothing Martial Artists, including Zhou Yuanqing. Before, they had respected Lin Yan, but it was a respect born from his status. Now, they respected him for his strength.

Among Martial Artists, strength was what ultimately did the talking.

The banquet continued until the moon hung high in the sky. Citing his inability to hold his liquor, Lin Yan brought the festivities to a close.

"Ziming, escort Young Master Lin back."

"Yes, sir."

Zhao Ziming led the way, with a flushed Lin Yan following behind. Under the watchful eyes of all present, they headed toward the eastern courtyard.

Once Lin Yan’s figure had disappeared from view, Zhao Tieshan glanced at Zhou Yuanqing and his two companions. With a silent, mutual understanding, the four of them walked off toward the west.