"WHY DID THAT LIGHT KICK FEEL SO HEAVY?!" Han Yi shouted as he rolled to a stop.
Ling Qingxue stayed silent.
Han Yi got up again, shaking.
"Fine… fine… I'll use my full strength!"
He charged again.
This time he threw a fast combo—punch, kick, elbow, another kick.
Ling Qingxue didn't block.
She just tilted her head.
Shifted her foot.
Moved slightly.
Every attack missed her by a hair.
Han Yi grew more desperate.
"STAY STILL!"
Ling Qingxue finally struck back.
A single palm.
BAM.
Han Yi flew backward, landed, rolled, and barely stopped before falling off the stage.
He groaned.
"My everything hurts…"
Ling Qingxue walked toward him slowly.
Han Yi panicked.
"WAIT WAIT WAIT! I SURREN—"
But she was already in front of him.
Her palm hovered an inch from his face—just like she did with Mu Chen.
She didn't need to hit.
Han Yi froze.
"…I surrender."
Tian Lei nodded.
"Winner: Ling Qingxue."
The crowd cheered again.
Han Yi lay flat on the ground, staring at the sky.
