strictlysupreme Chapter 43 Strategy Discussion, Martial Arts Tournament
Chapter 43 Strategy Discussion, Martial Arts Tournament
The next morning, the debate session began.
The training ground was filled with small tables early on, so that all the candidates could write their essays there.
Since it is only one of the test items in the martial arts exam, the standards are naturally not the same as those for the liberal arts exam.
The exam lasted only half a day, and the papers were collected at noon.
The first part of the exam was a dictation test. The Great Wu Dynasty had a comprehensive work on military strategy compiled by the imperial court, consisting of thirty-six volumes!
Every year, a selection of chapters from these thirty-six volumes of military strategy will be chosen for candidates to memorize.
The one who can recite the most complete passages will naturally receive a higher score.
Next came two questions on military strategy, testing the candidates' ability to discuss the application of tactics.
Since it was a county-level examination, the questions wouldn't be too tricky.
Zhao An now has a lot of military strategy knowledge in his head. Although he has never been on a real battlefield, he is quite well-prepared in terms of theoretical knowledge.
He didn't expect to get a high score. As long as his final essay score didn't drag him down too much, he was almost certain to be on the list and obtain the official military officer status.
At noon, with the sound of a gong, the policy essay exam came to an end.
During the test, many candidates were so anxious that they scratched their heads, but their minds went blank, and they couldn't come up with more than a few words.
There's no way to get these burly men to sit on small stools and struggle to even lift a pen with their thick arms, let alone write lengthy treatises.
It's easy to say someone is proficient in both literary and martial arts, but very few people in the world can truly achieve that.
Those candidates who did not perform well stood up dejectedly, their faces full of sorrow.
They could only pin their hopes on the final martial arts competition.
Before the martial arts competition begins, each candidate draws lots to determine their opponent. This stage tests not only individual strength but also a bit of luck.
The number of rounds each candidate can persist in will affect their final score.
Therefore, no one wants to run into those martial arts stars who are very likely to be selected from the very beginning.
"Master Zhao, please draw a lot." The clerk, who had initially been indifferent to the other candidates, suddenly became much more polite when he approached Zhao An, and even had a smile on his face.
"For you, every single one of these fortune sticks is a top-tier one, so you're not afraid of anyone you encounter."
"..." Zhao An ignored the other party's flattery, casually grabbed a stick with a number written on it.
Waiting for an unlucky guy whose number matches his.
On the other side, the county magistrate had also arrived at the martial arts arena and was sitting on the high platform as he had yesterday.
"How did the policy discussion go this morning?" Tao Heng asked the guard beside him.
Perhaps finding it too boring to watch a bunch of muscular men write, the magistrate did not attend the morning session.
He clearly preferred to watch the afternoon matches.
"Everything went smoothly, no one cheated," Tao Jin nodded.
"Hmm." Tao Heng glanced around, then suddenly asked, "How's that kid's writing?"
"He's quick-witted, not bad." Tao Jinyi knew who the magistrate was asking, and his gaze fell on Zhao An in the crowd as he replied.
"Hehe, being able to read and write is enough. After all, a person's energy is ultimately limited. If one's martial arts skills are high, other aspects will inevitably be weaker."
"Even if this person were placed in the prefectural city, he would still have great potential." Tao Heng stroked the stubble on his chin and smiled.
Tao Jinyi neither agreed nor disagreed.
Soon, the martial arts competition began.
The entire training ground was instantly filled with people, all fighting in pairs, and the one who was still standing at the end was the winner.
You can choose your weapons; the weapons on those weapon racks are all specially made and suitable for use in such martial arts competitions.
Zhao An picked out a goose-wing knife, which was exactly the same as the one he usually used. However, this knife was not sharp, so unless someone was determined to kill them, it would not be able to kill them.
As soon as Zhao Angang stood still in the training ground, the face of the person facing him instantly turned extremely ugly.
He drew the worst possible draw that no candidate wanted.
The scene of Zhao An wielding a thousand-pound cauldron with one arm yesterday is still fresh in everyone's mind; no one has the courage to face this formidable man directly.
"Once you're ready, you can begin. Don't waste time," the constable said, frowning at the dawdling man.
The burly man, with broad shoulders and a thick waist, steeled his resolve and charged towards Zhao An with his large cleaver, fearing that if he was too slow, he wouldn't even have a chance to draw his sword.
Zhao An remained unfazed, raised his foot and kicked out. The burly man was sent flying backward at an even greater speed, landing on a nearby weapon rack.
"Zhao, Zhao Ansheng!" The constable swallowed hard, snapped out of his daze, and shouted. When he looked at the big man again, all that remained in his eyes was pity.
If that kick had landed on him, he would have been foaming at the mouth, which would have been the least of his worries.
After the first round of battle, since the opponent was a martial barbarian who had not yet developed internal energy, there was not much to say.
In the second round, half of the candidates were still standing in the training ground, so it didn't look so crowded.
"It's over!"
Zhao An's second-round opponent looked as bad as ever, lamenting his bad luck that he was about to be eliminated in just the second round.
"Please," Zhao An said calmly.
"please..."
The opponent in the second round was a martial artist who had cultivated internal energy, but his internal energy was only twenty or thirty units, making him like an ant trying to shake a tree when he met Zhao An.
Zhao An kicked the ball away again, ending the second round.
The only difference is that the other party was still relatively conscious and wouldn't be stuck on that weapon rack.
The reason Zhao An didn't use the knife was because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control his strength. Even if the knife wasn't sharpened, the other party might not be able to withstand the blows from the iron wheel in his hand.
By the third round, the candidates who had made it this far were all quite strong, and many martial artists who had cultivated internal energy had also gathered here.
Zhao An's opponent was slightly stronger than the one in the previous round; he was a spearman. If he hadn't encountered Zhao An, he might have been able to advance even further.
But a pity.
Zhao An swept his sword, sending his opponent flying and his spear flying, yet he still easily passed the level.
By the fourth round, there were no more than a hundred candidates left in the training ground, more than half of whom were martial artists who had cultivated internal energy.
The gentlemen who were watching all had their servants write down the appearances and names of these people.
We'll just wait for this county exam to end before sending someone to make contact.
"Hmm..." Zhao An looked at his opponent in the next round, his expression becoming slightly more serious.
The other person was one of only two candidates, just like him, who could lift a heavy cauldron.
He was dressed in ordinary martial arts attire, with his hair simply tied up with a hairband.
His face showed signs of weathering life's storms, indicating that he was quite old.
In the Great Wu Dynasty, there are no age restrictions for applicants, whether they are in the humanities or the martial arts; only their talent and practical skills are considered.
Therefore, in the examination hall, one can sometimes even see elderly students with gray hair.
In contrast, the person in front of me was about thirty or forty years old, in the prime of his life.
"The Diancang Blade, Xu Hong." Xu Hong drew his long blade, his face solemn, and spoke in a serious tone.
"Please." Zhao An did not follow the custom of introducing himself before a fight; he simply brandished his sword to let the other party know that he also used a sword.
......