C50 Requesting for the Quota

It felt as though an invisible wall stood before him.

"Shouldn't the old mayor be able to channel all his energy into it? Perhaps I haven't practiced enough," Ni Huibo mused, lifting his head to glance at the door blocked by a wad of paper, his brow furrowed in frustration.

He had been burning the midnight oil, sacrificing sleep and even his cultivation practices, all in the pursuit of perfection. He sensed that this could greatly aid him.

Moreover, if the old mayor had taught him, it certainly wouldn't be in vain. He couldn't afford to miss such an opportunity for growth.

With this in mind, he once again focused his Qi and poised his brush.

The spiritual energy of the world seemed to stir with his movement, swirling faintly around him as the epicenter. The whirlpool, though subtle, spanned an impressively wide area.

Inside the quaint old house, spiritual energy in every nook and cranny began to stir.

Ni Huibo meticulously managed the flow of spiritual energy within him, his eyes shut as he relied solely on the Heavenly Eye to perceive his surroundings.

The xuan paper on the desk began to tremble, emitting a rustling sound.

The surrounding spiritual energy grew denser, and the air itself felt heavier. Yet Ni Huibo remained undisturbed, the brush dipped in black ink hovering silently in his grasp, exuding an aura like a tiger ready to pounce and shred everything nearby.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, exuding a startling serenity, while the symbol on his forehead shone with specks of gold.

At that moment, a loud noise erupted from outside the house.

It sounded like the wooden door had slammed against the wall, followed by a cacophony of curses and the patter of footsteps.

Ni Huibo's frown deepened, and with a stifled grunt, he dispersed the spiritual energy from his hands. The vortex of spiritual energy within the house vanished without a trace.

In an instant, normalcy was restored.

A drop of black ink, as if liberated, fell silently onto the xuan paper, leaving behind a large, stark spot.

Muffled swearing drifted in from the courtyard, and the paper that had been wedged in the doorway tumbled backward, allowing the bright, golden sunlight to finally fill the dim interior of the small house.

Ni Huibo's eyes narrowed as he blinked twice before finally turning his gaze toward the doorway. He had been holed up in the small cabin for too long and struggled to adjust to the bright light, instinctively shielding his eyes from the sun's glare with his hand.

As the crumpled paper gave way, it wasn't just sunlight that poured in but also several silhouettes of varying heights.

"Ni Huibo, what are you up to?" boomed a voice, not quite a shout but still thunderously loud.

Ni Huibo's eyes quickly adjusted, though his brow remained furrowed. Three people had entered the cabin, led by a burly man with a surprisingly youthful face. Ni Huibo recognized him; he had made it into the top ten in a recent competition with considerable strength. However, he had been no match for Ni Huibo at the second level and was subsequently eliminated.

Ni Huibo gave him a once-over without betraying any emotion. "I'm practicing calligraphy," he said coolly. "Is there something you need?"

He wasn't fond of these intruders; they had barged into his yard uninvited and disrupted his practice.

The burly leader seemed oblivious to Ni Huibo's displeasure. After a quick survey of the cabin, he scoffed and said sternly, "Practicing calligraphy? With the competition between the three great families looming, you neglect serious cultivation for calligraphy? If we lose to the other two families, will you accept the blame?"

His agitation grew with each word until he strode over, snatched up the paper from the table—a paper marked with a single black dot—and ripped it to shreds.

"This is my courtyard, and practicing calligraphy is my affair," Ni Huibo stated plainly, devoid of anger. Extending his hand, spiritual energy flowed from within him, drawing the fluttering paper scraps into a neat pile on the floor.

His movements were subtle, yet they conveyed an effortless mastery.

The burly man gaped at the paper scraps now resting on the ground, visibly shaken. The task seemed simple, but it was beyond his own capabilities, and Ni Huibo had executed it with such ease.

However, just as he had settled down for a moment, the other two individuals behind him approached. One had an unremarkable appearance; Ni Huibo had no recollection of him. The other was Ni Zongzhao, who had previously sought him out for a fight.

Despite having sustained serious injuries in their last encounter, Ni Zongzhao's demeanor remained unchanged. He strode forward, sneered at Ni Huibo, and then stepped onto a pile of scattered papers.

The papers, once neatly stacked, were now caught in the breeze created by Ni Zongzhao's movements, fluttering chaotically about the room, which quickly became disheveled.

"Since you've earned a spot in the grand competition of the three great families, you ought to embrace that responsibility. We're here to remind you of that. If you're displeased with our approach, feel free to relinquish your spot and spare the Ni family any potential disgrace," Ni Zongzhao said with a mocking tone, casting a meaningful glance at his companions.

The burly man, despite his simple and honest appearance, was quick on the uptake. He abandoned his initial thought of leaving and spoke with a firm voice, "Exactly, Ni Huibo. If you have any gratitude for what the Ni family has done for you, then pass the competition spot on to us."

"You've made a mess of my house."

Ni Huibo cut him off before the burly man could finish speaking.

In that moment, Ni Huibo wasn't paying attention to the man's words; his gaze was fixed intently on Ni Zongzhao, his expression stern.

The burly man's face darkened. He had come to confront Ni Huibo with force, and since Ni Huibo had never wronged him before, he hadn't intended to escalate the situation.

Yet, having his words so blatantly disregarded ignited a fury within him. His large palm-like hands clenched tightly, the sound of grinding bones subtly filling the air.

"Ni Huibo! I'm speaking to you!" he growled, his voice grating and strained, like a duck being choked.

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