My Whole Class Isekai'd to a Xianxia? Good Thing I Can Do Mind-reading Chapter 27 Senior Brother, Spank Me Harder!

Feng Fan didn't have to wait long. Just a few minutes after registering, his na was called.

"Feng Fan versus Peng Hui!"

As soon as the announcent echoed through the arena, the betting stalls erupted with activity.

The odds heavily favored Peng Hui, a known fighter with a solid reputation in the Fifth Peak arenas.

In contrast, Feng Fan was an unknown na, prompting whispers and ridicule among the spectators.

"A rookie from the 1st Body Forging Realm? Seriously? Aren't Body Cultivators useless?"

Body Cultivation was widely regarded as unorthodox compared to the mainstream Qi Cultivation.

In the early stages, Qi cultivators often outperford body cultivators in combat, their techniques and spiritual qi overwhelming the latter's raw physicality.

It wasn't until the Divine Strength Realm that body cultivators began to showcase their full potential, their raw power surpassing what most Qi cultivators could handle.

However, reaching that stage in Body Cultivation was exceedingly rare, especially on the Black Turtle Continent. Only a select few had ever achieved it, making body cultivators a curiosity at best and a laughingstock at worst in lower realms.

Feng Fan stepped forward confidently, ignoring the murmurs and the odds stacked against him.

Feng Fan sized up his opponent, montarily taken aback. The young man had long, flowing black hair, a strikingly handso face, and neatly arranged attire.

What truly stood out, however, was the smug, self-assured smile plastered across his face.

Every detail of his appearance scread wealth and privilege.

'So, this is the so-called Peng Clan's Young Master,' Feng Fan mused, his expression neutral. But inwardly, a different thought erged: 'That face of his… it's practically begging for a beating.'

Peng Hui was the first to speak. "Good day, junior brother. Today this senior brother will give you a lesson about fighting."

Feng Fan gave Peng Hui a peculiar look. 'Why would I need a lesson from soone at the 1st Qi Gathering realm? Isn't this guy a little too full of himself?'

"Peng Hui is sothing else," one spectator whispered excitedly. "His father is Elder Peng, a Nascent Soul realm cultivator. Can you believe he only started cultivating two weeks ago? Not only did he step into the 1st Qi Gathering realm, but he also mastered Bull Fist, a top common-level technique!"

"Exactly," another chid in. "He's got talent and background. Isn't he just perfect?"

Feng Fan didn't answer him, but Peng Hui didn't seem to mind. It seems he was already satisfied with the crowd's attention.

"Are both fighters ready?" the referee asked, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Both Feng Fan and Peng Hui nodded in unison.

"Start!"

Peng Hui burst forward like a cheetah, his movents precise and swift, closing the distance between them in monts.

Feng Fan, however, remained motionless, his stance calm as he focused on his breathing. He made no effort to dodge or counterattack, simply waiting for Peng Hui's strike to collide with him.

Peng Hui smirked, his tone condescending as he approached. "Junior brother, the best defense is a good offense," he said as if imparting wisdom to a naïve student.

From the sidelines, the crowd erupted into whispers and chuckles.

"Is this guy for real? He's just standing there!"

"Looks like he's already accepted his loss. What a coward!"

"Did he freeze up from fear?"

Feng Fan didn't react to the jeers or Peng Hui's smug deanor.

Peng Hui closed the distance and unleashed a punch aid straight at Feng Fan's chest, his fist infused with spiritual qi.

"Bull Fist!" Peng Hui shouted.

'Why the fuck is this idiot screaming his technique na?'

The impact landed with a solid thud, sending a sharp pain radiating through Feng Fan's body.

The force of the blow pushed him back a step, his footing montarily unstable. Yet, almost instantly, a soothing sensation rippled through his body, as though washing away the pain and, more importantly, subtly altering his physique.

The duality of the sensation—pain followed by relief—was intoxicating.

For a mont, Feng Fan's body trembled, the overwhelming pleasure nearly coaxing a sound from his lips.

'This damn masochistic technique,' he thought, gritting his teeth to suppress any audible reaction.

His expression remained cold and composed, giving no hint of the strange events occurring within him.

Feng Fan's lips curved into a taunting smile, his cold deanor lting into sothing more provocative.

"Is that all you've got, Senior Brother Peng? Looks like soone forgot to eat their spinach today."

Peng Hui's confident smirk vanished, replaced by a look of utter disbelief. His eyes widened, and his jaw slackened slightly.

"Impossible! No cultivator at the 1st Body Forging realm should be able to take my punch so easily!"

The crowd erupted in disbelief.

"Did this guy just take the Bull Fist head-on and still manage to smile? Since when are body cultivators this strong?" one spectator exclaid, his eyes wide with shock.

Another onlooker shook his head vehently. "Impossible! Body cultivators are rare, sure, but I've seen so of them fight before. Their bodies aren't that tough. This guy must be cultivating so kind of high-grade defensive technique!"

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, one voice rising above the others.

"That must be it! He ca here to practice so defensive technique! That explains why he's letting Brother Peng hit him like that."

Peng Hui, overhearing the speculation, quickly drew the sa conclusion. A smug smile returned to his face.

"Hmph, let's see which is stronger, my Bull Fist or your defensive technique!" he sneered, his confidence fully restored.

Feng Fan couldn't help but feel a surge of excitent inside. This was exactly what he wanted!

'Senior Brother Peng, please, spank harder!' he thought, barely containing his excitent.

"Multiple Bull Fists!" Peng Hui roared, his arms a blur as they struck Feng Fan from various angles. Each punch landed with a thud, hitting different spots on his body.

Feng Fan gritted his teeth, making it seem as though he was in pain.

Peng Hui, seeing the grimace on his face, couldn't help but feel elated. 'My punches are working!'

But contrary to his thoughts, far from being in pain, Feng Fan was battling the intense pleasure that coursed through him with each strike.

'Damnit, I'll go crazy with the pleasure!'