After they all left, I, who hadn't slept all night, felt no sleepiness whatsoever. I stood at the very front of the audience, looking down at the tens of thousands of spectators. Many were still frequently turning back to look, calling out to their friends and pointing at me as soon as they saw me. I stood with my hands on my hips, thinking smugly: perhaps it's time to wear my underwear on the outside.
Supported by his two disciples, Duan Tianlang slowly left the stage. A man as strong-willed as him would never have been in such a sorry state unless absolutely necessary. However, An Daoquan had also said that his injuries were caused by the shockwave, but hadn't damaged his foundation, and he could fully recover in the future.
I subconsciously fiddled with my phone—I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Then it suddenly struck me: mind reading, incomprehensible to others, was real to me, because it was my first month's salary as a prospective "god," and Duan Tianlang's injury…
Oh my god, will my second month's salary be a godsend (I know you guys are thinking the same thing)? Absolutely!
I suppressed my excitement, stood in front of the wall, took a deep breath, and then threw a punch! To my surprise, the wall was fine, but my hand was broken.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Final That Wasn't the Final
Luckily, no one saw this embarrassing incident. I picked up the remaining Yunnan Baiyao from Shi Qian, applied it to my face, and went back to the hotel to catch up on my sleep, feeling dejected.
Before I went to bed, I called Baozi to ask about the situation at the hospital. Baozi said wearily, "The surgery is over, I'll be back in a bit."
I asked her a few more questions, but she couldn't explain it clearly. She only said that the doctor wheeled Old Zhang into the operating room and then quickly wheeled him out again, but he didn't say anything like "I'm sorry, I did my best." Old Zhang is still alive...
Later I learned that the surgery had actually failed. After the doctor opened Lao Zhang's abdomen, they found that cancer cells had spread throughout Lao Zhang's body, making the surgery impossible. To put it bluntly, Lao Zhang can only wait to die now.
I didn't even have time to feel sad before I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes again, it was already dark. Baozi had returned sometime earlier and was sleeping beside me, still dressed, with tear stains on her face, looking pitiful. It was the first time I'd ever seen her like this, so carefree. Before, she'd cry while watching Korean dramas, but as soon as she wiped away her tears, she'd say, "Cucumbers are expensive again today."...
Just then, someone knocked on my door. I went out and saw a very simple, middle-aged farmer with a kind smile on his face. Although we hadn't spoken before, I recognized him: he was the leader of Hongri's team.
I gently closed the door and asked, "Is there something you need?"
The team leader felt bad for bothering me and said apologetically, "Team Leader Xiao, could you please call all your team members together? I'd like to say a few words to everyone."
I called a waiter over and led him to the conference room to wait for me. Then I pulled out the heroes one by one.
When we arrived at the large conference room on the first floor, we found that everyone from Hongri was there. There were about 20 people, including their regular team for the competition. The heroes had always had a good impression of Hongri, and they exchanged pleasantries upon meeting. I invited their team leader, Lu Junyi, and Wu Yong to the stage. Lu Junyi was very considerate at this moment; he kept calling me Team Leader Xiao. I placed the microphone in front of Xiangnong, and he stood up, gave a restrained, apologetic smile to the people below, and after organizing his thoughts for a while, finally said, "We apologize for disturbing your sleep; we apologize for our intrusion..."
Lu Junyi chuckled from the side, "Brother, just say what you have to say. We heroes of the martial world don't need to be so polite."
The farmer smiled at him, then clasped his hands in a fist salute to the crowd below before saying, "Friends from Yucai, I greatly admire your skills. You all won beautifully today, and we, after a hard-fought battle, have also managed to advance." It was only then that I learned the result of the second match today; it turned out that Hongri had indeed made it to the finals.
The farmer continued, "That means the final competition the day after tomorrow will be between us. I can see that all of you have honed your skills through hard work and dedication, unlike those greenhorns who only know how to hit sacks. And we, the people from Hongri, are not afraid of being laughed at, we have also been practicing our skills since we were young."
Li Kui couldn't help but say, "Can't you just say what you want to say? You're making my head spin." Although his words were impolite, everyone could see that he was a bit simple-minded and adorably honest, so they couldn't help but laugh.
The villager smiled and said, "Alright, I'll be frank. The finals are the day after tomorrow, and we'll have to go up to that arena. You've all seen it; once we're on that stage, we have to dress like ugly old women. There are so many rules, like this and that. We can only use about two or three tenths of what we learned in elementary school." Upon hearing this, the heroes felt greatly pleased and cheered.
"Therefore, we have a request: let our two families have a proper fight in private today, without regard for any rules, and just do it the way it is in the martial arts world. That way, we won't have come to the martial arts conference in vain."
The heroes all said in unison, "That's the best way."
The bandits, being naturally warlike, readily agreed to such a request. Seeing it was such a trivial matter, Lu Junyi stood up and said, "Then let Team Leader Xiao take charge. We, the unrelated ones, will take our leave." And just like that, the matter was settled.
Lu Junyi led Wu Yong, Xiao Rang, Jin Dajian, and a few others back to their rooms, while the remaining heroes were filled with eager anticipation. They all knew that Hong Ri's side was also teeming with experts, and for experts to meet was like a lecherous wolf meeting a harlot—they couldn't resist the urge to spar. Most importantly, what they wanted was to be free to do as they pleased, without having to wear those ridiculous protective gear and clumsy boxing gloves anymore.
But when I looked outside, it was already dark, and I said with difficulty, "Where should we go to fight? It wouldn't be good if people thought we were having a group fight."
The farmer smiled and said, "With Team Leader Xiao's connections, it shouldn't be difficult to get the stadium to do him a favor, right?" It seems he had planned this all along.
I said helplessly, "Let's go then." Actually, I didn't care about this at all. In the end, what I wanted wasn't to be number one, nor was it fame. I wanted money. While Old Zhang was still sensible, I wanted to expand the school and get the child he couldn't let go of into it, even if it was just reading a text to him. Actually, what I wanted most right now was—a bowl of beef noodles. I hadn't eaten lunch.
I bought a bread roll and a bag of milk at a small shop, ate and drank them in a few bites, but it wasn't enough. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything for 24 hours, from yesterday until now. At the next shop, I bought two more bread rolls, but that wasn't enough either, so I walked around and bought another one. It was quite a distance from the hotel to the stadium, so I went into a shop to buy something to eat every time I passed it. I wasn't full until I reached the stadium entrance. The unsuspecting team leader, Hongri, exclaimed, "The hero Wu Song drunkenly beat Jiang Menshen, drinking all the way! Team Leader Xiao eats all the way! No wonder his strength is amazing!"
It was then that I remembered the matter of "divine power." I had almost forgotten that in the eyes of outsiders, I was a peerless master.
Damn, what am I going to do if these farmers come looking for a fight with me? I wonder if they'll still stick to the best-of-five format.
Thanks to Secretary Liu's instruction to "do everything possible to make things convenient for Director Xiao," I successfully ordered the stadium management to turn on all the lights in the outer field, instantly turning the area as bright as day and creating a well-lit stadium.
The Red Sun group and our group naturally stood on opposite sides. Their leader stepped forward and solemnly said, "I am Cheng Fengshou. It is a great honor to receive instruction from you all today." The heroes could all see the sincerity in his tone and replied with smiles, "You're too kind." I also munched on bread among the heroes and said, "You're too kind"—but Cheng Fengshou immediately clasped his hands in a fist salute to me and said, "I am very ashamed. Please forgive my intrusion. I would like to first experience Leader Xiao's unparalleled fist."
My impression of him changed completely immediately, and I gave him an eight-character evaluation: seemingly loyal and honest, but treacherous at heart.
In the end, the kind-hearted Lin Chong, not wanting me to be too embarrassed, stepped forward and said with a smile, "Brother Cheng, I'll accompany you for a few rounds of fistfights."
Cheng Feng glanced at me, then saw the smiling faces of the heroes behind me, and assumed they were laughing at his overestimation of his abilities. He knew deep down that he had no chance of eating eight loaves of bread, five sausages, five bags of milk, and three packs of cabbage in five or six minutes. Fighting him would be pointless, so he simply took the opportunity to gracefully bow to Lin Chong, saying, "Please!"
Without another word, the two began exchanging blows. Fighting like this, without boxing gloves or time limits, allowed for both unrestrained and controlled attacks. Initially, neither used any killer moves; what appeared to be a fierce fight was actually a series of probing attacks and defenses.
Cheng Fengshou wasn't lying. These men had all practiced martial arts since childhood, and they were all from the same village, learning from an old teacher a style passed down from their ancestors. They were truly of impeccable lineage. That's what makes a master. A true master isn't defined by how many points you score in a competition, but by how you can immediately carve out a place for yourself in extreme survival environments like a train station, a detention center, or a gay bar. Cheng Fengshou definitely qualifies. As for Lin Chong, being a member of the 800,000 Imperial Guards, that goes without saying, but everyone has their specialty. He fought more on horseback, which inevitably made him less adept on foot. You could say he relied on his rich combat experience to fight.
Regardless of the era, the battle between these two individuals still holds great practical significance: what happens when a meticulous and cautious approach clashes with a practical approach that relies on experience?
The result is... wait a minute, let me take a look first.
Cheng Fengshou moved like a large butterfly, his kung fu displaying a wide, sweeping style, his arms and legs stretched out, exuding both power and ferocity. Lin Chong, a master of the spear, also displayed graceful movements. The two fought for a long time, unable to find a counter. Cheng Fengshou's powerful style was simple and straightforward, but to unleash its full potential in actual combat required extremely rich experience. However, this was a time of peace, and he was merely an ordinary martial arts instructor, usually sparring with a few junior disciples—where would he find so much experience? Lin Chong, on the other hand, came from a family with a long tradition of martial arts training, his style possessing a balance of righteousness and grandeur. This kind of exquisite martial art would normally require a lifetime of study, which Lin Chong lacked the time for, yet he possessed an unparalleled wealth of combat experience.
These two men would be among the best of the best among ordinary martial artists. Only when they faced each other did their weaknesses become apparent. One was fierce but clumsy, while the other was smooth but abrupt. After fighting for a while, they both jumped out of the arena at the same time.
Cheng Fengshou laughed and said, "How about we call this a draw?"
Lin Chong smiled and said, "If Brother Cheng's fierce style happens to counter me on the fighting stage, then I'll consider this a loss."
Cheng Fengshou waved his hand: "We agreed to follow the rules of the martial arts world." He glanced around and suddenly said, "Hey, there seem to be weapons over there. How about we have an extra match?"
Chapter Thirty: An Ice Pop
In the arena of the martial arts tournament, there were rows of weapon racks, which were just for display. Several people ran over and carried them to the front. Cheng Fengshou chose a staff, and Lin Chong, as usual, took a wooden stick.
Now that the two were fighting again, the difference in skill was immediately apparent. Cheng Fengshou maintained his grand style, his staff wielding with powerful, sweeping strokes. Lin Chong's staff, however, seemed to possess a spirit, sweeping and deflecting with incredible agility, truly embodying the essence of staff fighting. What was remarkable was that he hadn't incorporated any spear-like techniques, and even more remarkable was that he wielded this dry, stiff staff—which was essentially just for show—with the agility of a dragon—Lin Chong was, after all, the "spear and staff" instructor of the 800,000 Imperial Guards!
After a mere ten moves, Cheng Fengshou had been struck countless times by Lin Chong's staff. If it had been a spear, Cheng would have been riddled with holes by now; even with a staff, Lin Chong could have easily brought him down with just a little more force.