Chapter 151: Battle Against Zhou Chichen (Please Vote for the Month)
In an instant, the air seemed frozen solid in Zhou Chichen’s palm—icy winds roared toward Zhang Yu, swiftly sapping the warmth from his flesh and blood.
Lei Jun, watching from the side, thought to himself with a faint smirk: How bold.
At this moment, Lei Jun remained silent, refraining from voicing his thoughts aloud. He didn’t want to inadvertently warn Zhou Chichen.
If Zhou Chichen is allowed to unleash his full power, he mused, his Shuangtian Freezing Aura Field is nearly impossible to counter. Just by constantly circling and wearing down his opponent, he could win through sheer endurance.
But Zhang Yu’s words forced him into a direct confrontation.
The ten-round challenge further trapped him. As Vice President of the Student Union, how could he possibly accept such a high number in front of so many people? He’d definitely lower it—probably to three.
That turns Zhou Chichen’s strength—endurance—into a high-stakes, all-or-nothing fight in just three moves.
Impressive. Zhang Yu truly has battlefield instincts.
But one question remains… Can Zhang Yu actually survive three strikes from Zhou Chichen?
At that moment—
A monstrous wave of freezing energy slammed into Zhang Yu like a dragon of ice.
Zhou Chichen spoke calmly: “First move. Let you get a taste of my Shuangtian Freezing Aura Field.”
As he spoke, Zhou Chichen took a slow, deliberate step forward, each footfall sending shockwaves through the air. With every step, his Martial Energy surged—icy vapors erupted in all directions, freezing the floor, ceiling, and walls in layers of frost.
Even Zhao Tianxing and the other first-year students, standing far away, felt their bodies tremble with cold. They exhaled white vapor, retreating step by step, faces pale with shock as they stared at Zhou Chichen.
“Second move.”
Zhou Chichen flicked his fingers toward Zhang Yu.
The swirling frost instantly obeyed, coalescing into a massive ice hand that slammed down toward Zhang Yu with crushing force.
Crack. Crack.
Zhang Yu’s entire body instantly frosted over. His skin visibly paled before their eyes, turning deathly white.
Zhou Chichen said coldly: “Zhang Yu, I know you’re tough. I know you can take punishment.”
“But once my Shuangtian Freezing Aura Field lowers your body temperature rapidly, your blood vessels will freeze, your body will starve for oxygen, and every single cell will be damaged…”
Inside Zhang Yu’s body, his Martial Energy surged like molten lava—burning hot, racing through his veins. The Great Sun Martial Energy roared through his limbs, radiating intense heat.
Chisui Hunyuanqi awakened, causing waves of heat to rise from his muscles.
Wuxiang Yun'gang, transformed into a subcutaneous spirit armor, combined with Bumu Yinfa, forming an unbreakable barrier against the freezing onslaught, repelling the frost entirely.
Yet Zhang Yu sensed something deeper—beyond the cold, Zhou Chichen’s attack carried the subtle influence of the Shuangyu Scripture, seeping into his mind.
In his ears, a chorus of dying souls echoed—guttural cries of the fallen, waves of ancient hatred battering his spirit, shaking his Dao Heart.
Though the Tianwu Cultivation of the Heart Scripture kept his intention intact, constantly crushing and suppressing the malicious thoughts, Zhang Yu felt his Tianwu Intention—like a soldier who had killed countless times—growing weary. The hatreds clung to him like thin, invisible threads, slowly wrapping around his will.
As his cultivation faltered, his martial skills and energy flow were hindered.
No good. Tianwu Cultivation isn’t suited for this kind of spiritual assault…
Then—like a spark of sudden enlightenment—Zhang Yu switched his inner technique.
He activated the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique.
A reflex born from mastering both arts to Level 10.
Instantly, the cold agony of the dying spirits, the haunting echoes in his mind—those remnants of the cursed cow—no longer disturbed his inner peace.
The cow, long accustomed to crawling through fields of bones and blood, felt only serenity.
Meanwhile, Zhou Chichen stood over Zhang Yu, who was now frozen stiff, his body encased in frost.
Zhou Chichen stepped forward, voice calm: “Junior, it’s over.”
“Your entire body should be frozen solid by now.”
“Don’t worry. This isn’t serious. No need to go to the infirmary. Just expect to be unable to train or study properly for the next one or two days.”
“Just a small punishment for disrespecting your senior.”
As he raised his finger to push Zhang Yu to his knees, a sudden wave of heat surged toward him.
The frost on Zhang Yu’s body melted instantly.
Except for minor skin damage, Zhang Yu stood upright—alert, energetic, utterly unharmed.
Zhang Yu said: “Senior… there’s still one move left.”
Zhou Chichen narrowed his eyes, studying Zhang Yu carefully. “Then I’ll teach you one more.”
He spread his fingers wide. The icy winds converged into his palm, his entire body channeling frost-laced energy into a single, devastating strike.
“Kneel!”
Zhou Chichen unleashed his full power—a thunderous palm strike crashing down on Zhang Yu’s shoulder.
The force exploded outward in a shockwave. The training hall erupted into a blizzard—icy winds howling, temperature plummeting.
Zhou Chichen and Zhang Yu stood face to face, their gazes locking like two forces colliding.
The power of a third-year senior surged through Zhou Chichen’s body—like a sky column crushing downward, pressing Zhang Yu inch by inch.
The cold bit deeper, wrapping around Zhang Yu’s frame, draining his strength, destroying his foundation.
Zhou Chichen intended to crush him to his knees, freeze him there—humiliating him in front of all, asserting the Student Union’s authority, and testing just who stood behind the boy.
But to his shock, Zhang Yu’s body exploded with unexpected resistance—like a spring, pushing back with greater force with every ounce of pressure.
The heat radiating from his body blocked Zhou Chichen’s frost from penetrating.
Fujie chuckled: “His explosive power’s clearly weak. If he’d fought you in a long, fluid battle, you’d be in trouble. But charging headfirst into your trap? That’s easy.”
Then—Zhang Yu spoke.
“Senior, three moves are done.”
“Now… try my move.”
Zhou Chichen’s eyes flared. He instinctively raised his hand to block.
He’d seen Zhang Yu’s close-combat skills. He wasn’t about to get caught off guard.
But in the next instant, he realized: Zhang Yu’s hands weren’t exerting much force.
Then—BOOM!
A thunderous impact exploded against Zhou Chichen’s abdomen.
In that split second, Zhang Yu had redirected Zhou Chichen’s palm strike, channeled every ounce of his power, and—seizing the moment of distraction—slammed his knee straight into Zhou Chichen’s gut.
Lei Jun slammed his palm on the table in admiration: “Unbelievable! That was a perfect surprise attack!”
The force crushed Zhou Chichen’s skin, muscles, and internal organs. His stomach felt like a giant hand was twisting and squeezing it—distorting, compressing—like it might tear open.
Zhou Chichen gasped, then clamped his mouth shut.
“Senior,” Zhang Yu said softly, “let me help you up.”
As he gently tugged Zhou Chichen’s arm, the sudden shift in balance triggered what he’d been holding back.
Gag—
Zhou Chichen vomited violently onto the floor.
Fujie burst out laughing: “I told you! Rich kids eat ten meals a day. A little pain won’t do it—better to make them puke in front of everyone!”
Zhou Chichen barely managed one retch before forcing himself to stop. He violently shook off Zhang Yu’s hand, glaring.
“You—”
Zhang Yu stepped back, feigning regret: “Sorry, senior. I didn’t think I’d make you throw up with just one move.”
Lei Jun’s voice boomed across the training hall, like thunder: “Did you all see that? Zhou Chichen wanted to crush Zhang Yu, humiliate him, shatter his Dao Heart.”
“But Zhang Yu didn’t just survive—he turned the tables, striking back with a single blow that left Zhou Chichen vomiting in shame.”
“Both sides danced on the edge—between medical fees and spiritual humiliation.”
“One misstep, and you’d either lose money or face public disgrace.”
Lei Jun’s words echoed like a storm in Zhou Chichen’s mind. His cultivation faltered. His focus shattered.
Boom!
Again, the frost erupted violently. The temperature in the training hall dropped even further.
This was the true power of the Shuangtian Freezing Aura Field—its strength grew with time. Even after just three moves, Zhou Chichen hadn’t even begun to unleash his full might.
But then—A large hand gently landed on his shoulder.
“Zhou, the three-round agreement is over,” Lei Jun said with a smile. “Keep going, and the other students will get hurt.”
“You wouldn’t want to pay for the medical bills of dozens of frostbite cases—losing both face and money, would you?”
Zhou Chichen’s eyes hardened. He glanced at Lei Jun, then at the students around him—many already pale, their lips blue.
He took a deep breath.
He knew this was over.
Any further action would only deepen his humiliation. He might even have to pay.
So he simply stared at Zhang Yu—long and cold—then turned and walked away without a word.
Lan Ling followed closely behind, pointing at everyone: “All phones down. No photos allowed!”
He hurried after Zhou Chichen, fuming: “Cancel all competitions and privileges for Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen!”
Zhao Tianxing flinched, quickly hiding his phone—then couldn’t resist peeking again at the moment Zhou Chichen had been made to vomit.
He actually made Zhou Chichen look foolish? A Yu is incredible!
Zhao Tianxing could already imagine the chaos in the group chat—First-year Zhang Yu stood up to the Student Union President, took three hits, then knocked him down and made him puke.
Just then—messages flooded in from multiple groups: Strictly forbidden to discuss Zhang Yu and Zhou Chichen’s fight. No photos, no videos, no sharing online.
As the second-years left, the first-years stared at Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen with wide, awestruck eyes—this was the first time they’d seen a first-year face down a second-year prodigy.
But Zhang Yu didn’t care about their stares.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Le Mulan immediately.
“Do you have the contact info for your Ziyun Student Union’s head?” he asked.
Le Mulan raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about?”
Zhang Yu remembered Zhou Chichen’s words outside the training hall.
“Tell your Ziyun leader,” he said, “if they pay, Bai Zhenzhen and I won’t take part in the next competition.”
“Just contact us directly. It’ll be cheaper than going through Songyang High School.”
(End of Chapter)
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