MM Racing Chapter 83 Award Acceptance Statement
Chapter 83 Award Acceptance Statement
Song Chen stood in the center, the sunlight shining on him, and the medals on his chest glittered.
He looked up at the fifty thousand faces and fifty thousand pairs of eyes in the stands, as if they were watching a person who had stepped out of a legend.
He felt very uncomfortable.
It wasn't stage fright; he had faced the fangs of third-tier beasts in the wilderness and the torrent of beast tides on the walls—those were far more terrifying than fifty thousand pairs of eyes.
What made him uncomfortable was the look in those eyes—worship, awe…
These emotions were so heavy that he felt the medal on his chest was weighing him down.
He did do some things, but nothing that great; he just did what he was supposed to do.
Killing the strange beasts, guarding the wall, surviving—anyone in that position would have done the same thing; it's just that he happened to be there and happened to have the ability to do those things.
The applause continued.
Zhou Wangyue stood on the stage, looked at him, and nodded slightly, indicating that he should say a few words.
Song Chen paused for two seconds, then walked to the stage and stood in front of the microphone.
The applause of 50,000 people stopped at the same moment, and the stadium was so quiet that you could hear the wind blowing through the grass.
Song Chen looked at the crowd in front of him and remained silent for three seconds.
He wasn't very good at talking, not in Anning City, and even less so in the wilderness.
The wilderness needs no language, only a knife, but he knew that he needed to say something at this moment.
"My name is Song Chen, from Anning City, Nanjiang Province." He spoke, his voice hoarse, carrying the fatigue of not yet recovered from the battle.
"The numbers the principal mentioned earlier are true, but those numbers are not just mine. Tianhe South Fortress has tens of thousands of soldiers and hundreds of cannons. I couldn't hold that wall by myself; it was everyone who held it together."
The stands were extremely quiet.
"I just happened to be standing at the very front."
"Anyone in that position, if they had the ability, would do the same thing, because Tianhai City is right behind them. When there's no way out, anyone would fight to the death."
He remained silent for a moment, as if thinking about what else he could say.
Maybe not.
"that's all."
"Thanks."
He turned and walked off the stage.
There were no grand pronouncements, no passionate declarations.
Only the simplest statement, and the most unpretentious farewell.
The applause from the stands rang out again, even more enthusiastically and for a longer time than before.
Some people were clapping, some were cheering, some stood up, and more and more people stood up.
The applause and cheers of 50,000 people converged into a torrent, echoing under the stadium's dome.
The ceremony ended with applause.
When the dean announced the end of the event, the crowd in the stands lingered, their eyes searching for that figure.
Song Chen is no longer on the lawn.
The main building of the stadium, the second-floor lounge.
The room was small and simply furnished, with a sofa, a coffee table, a few chairs, and the motto of Tianhai University hanging on the wall.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a bright patch of light on the floor.
Song Chen sat on the sofa, leaning against the soft cushions.
For the first time in two days, he was sitting in such a comfortable place. His body relaxed involuntarily, and every muscle was sending a signal to his brain that "it's time to rest."
The Thunderclap Blade leaned against the sofa armrest, its cracks clearly visible in the sunlight.
The blue crystal on his chest pressed against his skin, radiating a faint coolness that continuously repaired the hidden injuries within his body.
The door was pushed open.
Zhou Wangyue walked in.
The old man changed into casual clothes, a dark gray long-sleeved shirt and black trousers, and looked much more approachable than he did on the stage.
But his aura remained, the aura of a sixth-level grandmaster, existing as naturally as breathing in every inch of space around him.
When he walked in, the air in the whole room became calm and composed.
He walked to the chair opposite Song Chen and sat down. His gaze lingered on Song Chen for a moment, noticing the bloodstains on his combat suit, the scar on his left arm, the cracked battle sword, and the blue crystal pendant on his chest.
There was no shock or pity in his eyes, only the calm, focused attention that an old person gives when looking at a young person.
"Are you tired?"
"It's alright," Song Chen replied.
Zhou Wangyue chuckled, a smile spreading across his wrinkles: "Two days and two nights without sleep, killing so many strange beasts, my energy and blood have been depleted by more than 80%, and I have dozens of wounds. Is this what you call 'okay'?"
Song Chen did not respond.
Zhou Wangyue didn't mind, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window.
The crowd in the stadium was dispersing, resembling a slowly flowing river in the sunlight.
"Do you know why Qin Wu didn't award you a medal inside the fortress?" he suddenly asked.
Song Chen glanced at him: "He said there will be a more suitable person, in a more suitable place."
Zhou Wangyue nodded: "Yes, that person is me, and that place is today's ceremony."
He turned his head and looked at Song Chen, his gaze becoming serious.
"Song Chen, you are the top scorer in Nanjiang Province. You are very strong and your record is amazing."
"But to be honest, with your seniority and military achievements, you wouldn't be qualified for the First-Class Combat Hero Medal under normal circumstances."
"Few hundred of these medals have been awarded in the past fifty years, and each one was awarded to someone who played a decisive role in the defense of the city."
"You killed hundreds of monsters by yourself, which is indeed remarkable, but in the context of the entire battle, your contribution was not significant enough to warrant a first-class medal."
Song Chen didn't speak; he knew Zhou Wangyue was telling the truth.
"Then why give it to me?"
Zhou Wangyue paused for two seconds, then said, "Because Tianhai University needs you."
"This year's freshmen number over three thousand, coming from all over the country; they are all top talents from their respective hometowns."
"But most of them have never seen a real battlefield. They think that martial arts is just about competition, ranking, and who has the higher blood pressure and whose swordsmanship is faster."
"They don't know what true martial arts are. It's about life and death, responsibility, and standing on a wall facing tens of thousands of strange beasts, without your legs shaking or your blade veering off course."
"They need someone to tell them this, not with words, but with the scars on their bodies, the cracks in their knives, and the medals on their chests."
"You are that person, so this medal is not just for you, but for all the new students. They need a role model, a role model who is the same age as them but is already standing on the top of the wall."
Song Chen nodded; this was within his expectations.
"I see."
Zhou Wangyue looked at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes: "You're not angry?"
"Don't be angry. Whether the medal is real or fake doesn't matter. What matters is that I did kill those monsters and I did defend that wall. That's enough."
Zhou Wangyue paused for a moment, then smiled, this time a much deeper smile than before.
He has seen too many young people who get carried away by a word of praise, become dejected by a word of criticism, and fly into a rage when taken advantage of.