https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-115-Breakthrough-Before-the-Match-Sky-Column/13686554/
Chapter 116: Fermenting (Thank you, Alliance Lord Bai Li Tongyun)
Inside the livestream room, Le Jingchen was explaining the rules and flow of the Sky Column challenge to the audience.
“The Sky Column challenge proceeds like this… In the first round, each contestant submits their target weight, then takes the stage one by one to lift the Sky Column.”
“Three rounds will be held in total. Each contestant’s final score will be based on their best performance across the three rounds.”
“Important note: during the weight submission phase of each round, contestants cannot know what others have submitted.”
“That means, before stepping onto the stage, a contestant only knows their own planned lift—whether the others are lifting heavier or lighter than them won’t be revealed until they actually take the stage and perform.”
Gang Shan, standing beside him, asked: “So the key here is accurately judging your own physical limits.”
Gang Shan spoke slowly. “Misjudging your strength can cost you. If you underestimate it, you’ll miss out on a higher score. But if you overestimate it and fail to lift, you’re out of the round—wasting a chance to lift the Sky Column, and possibly even risking injury.”
Le Jingchen nodded in agreement. “Exactly. My estimate is that in the first round, everyone will choose a relatively light weight—just to warm up, conserve energy, and get a feel for how much the Sky Column actually weighs.”
“In the second round, they’ll aim for a load close to their personal limit—establishing a solid baseline.”
“And only in the third round will they truly push themselves to the edge, trying to break their own records.”
…
In the rest area of Songyang High School, Wang Hai, He Dayou, and others were watching Gang Shan’s livestream while following the live competition.
They were watching Gang Shan’s broadcast because Wang Hai had recommended it.
Wang Hai had said: “If you’re into body cultivation livestreams, watch Gang Shan. He’s experienced, never sells medicine or cultivation techniques—truly one of the few honest streamers out there.”
After watching, the group realized Gang Shan and Le Jingchen were giving incredibly thorough explanations of the Physical Fitness Competition. So they’d kept watching until now.
Qian Shen listened intently, then nodded. “Now I see. This isn’t just a competition—it’s a test against oneself.”
He Dayou turned to Wang Hai. “Teacher Wang, what do you think Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen can lift?”
Wang Hai replied coolly: “At least 6,000 to 7,000 kilograms should be no problem. Anything higher… I can’t say for sure.”
Wang Hai watched Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen standing in line, submitting their target weights, then glanced up at the towering Sky Column in the sky.
The final stage isn’t just about power—it’s about self-awareness, he thought. Knowing your true limits.
Top-tier cultivators aren’t just strong and fast. They possess deep, intuitive insight into their own bodies.
Three chances. Do you settle for a score near your limit? Or do you gamble on breaking through it?
What would you choose?
Around him, the others inhaled sharply at the mention of 6,000 to 7,000 kilograms—stunned silence, then murmurs of awe.
Zhao Tianxing stayed silent. He knew that if he made a sound, even a gasp, in front of such strength, he’d look like a fool.
Damn, he thought. When you’re weak and poor, every word, every move, looks ridiculous to the strong.
And weakness and poverty are always defined by contrast.
He looked at Qian Shen and He Dayou.
Even someone as wealthy as Qian Shen, or as powerful as He Dayou… here, on this stage, they seem weak and poor in comparison to these athletes.
No matter how high they once stood, how famous they were in school—here, under the shadow of these elite performers, their past pride looks absurd. Like comedy.
This was Zhao Tianxing’s own conclusion after years of self-observation. He called it the Weakness-Poverty-Fool Theory.
When a strong or rich person enters a world of even stronger or richer people, they instantly become poor or weak. And once that happens, they’re laughed at. They become a clown.
Zhao Tianxing sighed inwardly. There’s nothing you can do. This is just how it is—the age of scores, the era of immortal paths, where money can even buy godhood.
…
With all contestants having submitted their first-round weights, the competition officially began.
Contestants would take the stage in ascending order of their target weights.
The first to step up was a Ziyun Person.
His body glowed faintly purple as he walked slowly onto the platform. The Sky Column’s column lit up with the number 2,000 kg.
He looked up as the column descended, then let out a sharp shout. With both palms facing upward, he slammed them into the base of the column.
Boom!
The descending column froze mid-air.
Five seconds passed. The number faded. The column retracted upward.
The contestant exhaled, visibly relieved, then stepped down.
One by one, others took the stage, each lifting their assigned weight.
The numbers on the Sky Column climbed—2,000 kg, then 2,500, then 3,000…
By the time Chu Qiuhé stepped up, the weight had reached 3,500 kg.
He roared once, effortlessly stopped the column, then gave it a slight lift, feeling the pressure.
My strength level… I should be able to handle 6,500 kg without issue, he thought. Should I push further? Try to break my limit?
…
Back in the livestream room, Gang Shan and Le Jingchen watched the rising numbers.
Gang Shan chuckled. “Sure enough—everyone’s just warming up in the first round, getting used to the column’s resistance.”
Le Jingchen added: “How much force a body can actually exert—how much weight it can lift—depends on a complex mix of innate physical limits, current condition, and mental focus.”
“But for those with strong self-awareness, this round is enough to pinpoint their true ceiling. They’ll already know their maximum.”
As they spoke, the numbers kept climbing—mostly in the 2,000 to 4,000 kg range.
No one was going all out. All were adjusting, conserving energy, silently testing their bodies.
Yet even 3,000 or 4,000 kilograms left many spectators wide-eyed.
…
Zhang Yu stepped onto the platform, slowly walking to the center beneath the Sky Column.
From the sidelines, he hadn’t felt it. But now, standing directly under it, looking up—
The sky felt swallowed whole.
As the column descended, the sense of weight grew heavier, pressing down on him like the heavens were collapsing.
Zhang Yu reached up, touching the base. He felt the immense pressure radiating down through the column.
Is this what 3,600 kilograms feels like? he wondered.
He analyzed the sensation—the tension in his muscles, the strain in his tendons, the deep connection between mind and body.
With every breath, he refined his estimate.
As he stepped down, he nodded at Bai Zhenzhen, who was preparing to take the stage.
She stepped beneath the column, felt the crushing weight descending—
It’s completely different from watching from below, she thought. This is real.
…
In the livestream room, Gang Shan asked: “Jingchen, who do you think will win this challenge?”
Le Jingchen replied: “The demon-blooded students have far greater muscle mass than the others. Even with similar strength levels, their raw power output is usually higher.”
“While that extra mass is a burden in earlier rounds—where speed and agility matter—here, it’s a clear advantage.”
“Among the demon-blooded, Xiong Wenwu has the highest body mass and the strongest strength level.”
“But if Xiong Wenwu represents raw power… then Yu Xinghan represents the fusion of strength and technique. He can extract maximum force from minimal muscle—using precise control to unleash greater power with less bulk.”
“The final winner will almost certainly be between Xiong Wenwu and Yu Xinghan.”
…
As Le Jingchen spoke, the second round began—just as he predicted.
Contestants started selecting weights close to their limits, aiming to secure a solid baseline.
Numbers on the Sky Column climbed steadily—each performance far stronger than the first round.
Then, after Lian Tianji successfully lifted 6,000 kilograms…
Chu Qiuhé failed at 6,800 kg.
He roared, palms locked against the column’s base. His body trembled under the immense pressure, but the column kept descending. He couldn’t hold it. After a few seconds, he stepped back, gritting his teeth.
In the livestream room, Gang Shan sighed. “Ah… overestimated his strength.”
Le Jingchen added: “Artificial Demon Muscle has a flaw—it dulls the mind’s control over the body, leading to poor self-assessment. For ordinary people, the safest way to gain strength is through proper medicine.”
“As for the demon-blooded, their muscle mass is naturally superior. And Yu Xinghan’s level of body mastery? That requires a Golden Core Immortal’s personal cultivation. Not something ordinary people can achieve.”
Clearly, Le Jingchen was positioning Xiong Wenwu and Yu Xinghan as symbols of the demon-blooded and Golden Core disciples—emphasizing how rare, advanced, and inaccessible such power was to ordinary cultivators.
As Le Jingchen began promoting Ziyun Pharmaceutical’s latest breakthrough,
it was finally Bai Zhenzhen’s turn for her second attempt.
With a sudden surge of power, she lifted 7,000 kg.
She felt her body—especially the scars along her limbs, pulsing with energy.
Next round… try 8,000 kg. That should be close to my limit, she thought.
After Bai Zhenzhen stepped down, it was Zhang Yu’s turn.
He lifted the 7,000 kg column—then walked off, expressionless.
Seeing Zhang Yu’s performance, Le Jingchen frowned.
Hmm… He should’ve lifted more. His past performances suggest he’s capable of more. Did Zhou Chichen’s warning affect him? Or is the potent medicine from his last match still weighing on him?
In the rest area of Songyang High School, Wang Hai sighed silently.
So he’s still damaged from the last fight. Damn it—medicine isn’t meant to be used like that. Why didn’t he ask me first?
After Zhang Yu, Le Mulan lifted 7,500 kg. Song Hailong succeeded at 8,300 kg. Hu Yuntao managed 8,800 kg. And Yu Xinghan broke 9,000 kg.
But Zhang Yu, standing at the edge of the arena, paid no mind to anyone’s performance. He didn’t even glance at the others climbing the stage.
At this moment, his world was empty—except for himself.
Only his body. Only his blood and flesh.
He was fully focused on his own existence.
He was saving every ounce of strength.
He was holding back—because in that first lift, he had already known his true limit.
Not just that.
He had sensed how much further his body could push—how much more it could endure under extreme overload.
So he didn’t waste energy in the second round.
He didn’t try to impress or provoke others.
He lifted 7,000 kg with ease—unremarkable, effortless.
And then, he turned inward—quiet, still, focused.
He was saving his peak moment.
For the final stage.
For the one chance to show the world his true strength.
(End of Chapter)
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