I muttered to myself, "Damn it, that old traitor. He says he's not biased, but his men get bombarded as soon as they come out, while our men don't even get to hear the 'Athletes' March' played when they appear." I looked at Zhao Yun, who was adjusting his horse's girth, and said, "Zilong, don't be nervous, calm down."
Zhao Yun laughed and said, "I understand. Although Zilong is young, he has fought with others more than once or twice. Judging from his grip on the knife, he is probably not much better than Second Brother."
Seeing his confident demeanor, I said with relief, "Okay, go ahead and teach him a lesson!"
Zhao Yun mounted his horse, held his spear horizontally in front of him, and his demeanor and gaze instantly changed. The handsome young man with a dark face rode into the arena, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Please, senior!"
General Wang, without hesitation, raised his broadsword and swung it down at General Wang's head. Zhao Yun, still in his salute, barely had time to raise his spear. He lightly tugged the reins, and the horse strolled forward a few steps. General Wang's strike missed. In the brief moment the two were side by side, Zhao Yun swiftly thrust his spear to the side, the tip piercing General Wang's breastplate from the left, the spearhead emerging from the right, though seemingly without wounding his flesh. Zhao Yun lifted him, sending General Wang flying into the air, then sliding down the spear shaft. Zhao Yun caught him on horseback, pulled the spear from his armor, placed him on the ground, and bowed, saying, "You've yielded."
We were all stunned!
From start to finish, the two barely used their swords for a minute. Before General Wang's blade even fell, Zhao Yun had already pierced through the hawthorn skewer. Strictly speaking, this could only be considered half a move. Rather than a martial arts contest, it was more like a game between adults and children—the child whines for a hug, and the adult grabs him and tosses him around a few times to relieve boredom.
Even after his feet touched the ground, General Wang was still in a daze, saying, "How did I get off my horse?"
Wu Sangui, his face ashen, said, "Summon General Wang back. Who will be the second?" This battle was such a humiliating defeat that the old man couldn't bear to lose face.
A middle-aged general shouted, "Your subject is willing to go!"
Wu Sangui glanced at him, probably feeling more at ease with this man's involvement, and nodded, saying, "General Li, be careful!"
Three cannon shots rang out again, and General Li rushed onto the field. I chuckled when I saw his weapon; this man shamelessly carried a halberd. Calling him shameless might be a bit of an exaggeration, but is a halberd something just anyone can wield? Zhao Yun lived in the Three Kingdoms period; he couldn't possibly be unfamiliar with this weapon. He's ranked second among many generals of the Three Kingdoms, simply because Lü Bu is ahead of him. Our Zilong (Zhao Yun) is definitely sensitive to this kind of weapon.
In particular, General Li, dressed in a brocade battle robe and riding a red horse, was quite flamboyant and arrogant, showing that Lü Bu still had a significant influence on later generations. When he entered the arena, he was self-important and snorted at Zhao Yun, "Since you're young, I'll let you go first."
"Good!" As he spoke, Zhao Yun thrust forward with his spear, the tip piercing the man's halberd through the ear. With a flick of his wrist, Zhao Yun sent General Li's halberd flying like a kite, soaring far beyond the training ground. General Li remained in the stance of holding the halberd with both hands, his expression blank. After a long while, he finally said, "I wasn't ready yet..."
Zhao Yun smiled and said, "I can wait for you."
I cupped my hands into a megaphone and shouted, "You really have some shame! If you're so embarrassed, pick it up and keep competing!"
Wu Sangui was so angry that his face turned ashen. He slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "Get back here right now!"
Seeing his master's anger, General Li dismounted tremblingly and led the horse back, constantly looking back with resentment, saying aggrievedly, "I really wasn't ready..."
Wu Sangui stood up angrily and shouted, "Anyone who damages the prestige of my army again will be severely punished!" As for the rules that had just been set, he completely forgot them.
A deep voice said, "Your Majesty, do not worry. This old minister will go and spar with that young general." The speaker was an old general nearing sixty, his white beard flowing down his chest, his expression dignified and imposing. Upon seeing this man, Wu Sangui couldn't help but show some politeness: "It's General Zhao, how can I trouble you to personally go?"
General Zhao said with great pride, "Look at this child's unique spear technique. This old minister is itching to show off his skills. Your Majesty also knows that my ancestors had a close relationship with Zhao Yun, the Marquis of Shunping, a legendary spear master during the Three Kingdoms period. I want to see if this ancestral Zhao family spear technique can still help Your Majesty solve your problems."
Wu Sangui held Old Zhao's hand silently, tears welling in his eyes. Finally, he whispered, "Old General, we can't afford to lose again!"
Old Zhao nodded, glared at the soldier who was about to fire the cannon for him, and said angrily, "Get out of here, aren't you ashamed!" General Wang and General Li were filled with shame and couldn't say a word.
Old Zhao leaped onto a white horse, took his weapon from the victory hook—a gleaming silver spear, as expected. He spurred his horse to Zhao Yun's side, stroked his beard, and smiled: "Young man, your spear skills are not bad. Who taught you?"
Seeing his advanced age, Zhao Yun respectfully replied, "Senior, I had several teachers who taught me before. After learning a few basic moves, I started to experiment on my own, and my methods were not very systematic. Please forgive my lack of skill."
Old Zhao said with satisfaction, "Hmm, you're so young, and it's rare to find someone so humble and composed. If you can last 50 rounds against me, I'll take you as my last disciple, how about that?"
Zhao Yun: "..."
I shouted, "Zilong, ignore him, beat up that old show-off!"
Zhao Yun cupped his hands and said, "Please, senior."
Fearing another loss to General Li, Old Zhao hurriedly grabbed his spear and launched a diversionary thrust with a "White Dragon Claw" maneuver. Zhao Yun dodged backward, parrying back with his spear held in one hand. Old Zhao missed, and the spear was already at his chest. He hastily parried, but just as the shaft was about to meet the spearhead, Zhao Yun twisted his wrist and thrust again. The old man hastily turned his horse away, exclaiming in surprise, "Eh, who taught you that one-handed spear technique?"
Zhao Yun paused and said, "I figured it out myself. Please point out any flaws, senior."
Old Zhao said, "Uh...no, I used to be better than you when I was young, but I can't anymore, I don't have enough strength in my hands."
Zhao Yun scratched his head and said, "Holding a spear with one hand is fast and long, it's all about skill and speed, it doesn't really have much to do with strength."
Old Zhao blushed and said, "You've learned this mnemonic too?"
Zhao Yun said, "This is also my own idea."
Old Zhao said, "This little kid is really boastful. This is clearly a mantra from the Zhao family's spear technique."
"Zhao Family Spears?"
Old Zhao said proudly, "You don't know, do you? My ancestors were sworn brothers with Zhao Yun. I also have the surname Zhao. This Zhao Family Spear technique was taught to my ancestors by Zhao Yun himself and has been passed down from generation to generation!"
Zhao Yun asked curiously, "May I ask the names of your ancestors, senior?"
Old Zhao said solemnly, "Our ancestor, Shang Tong Xia Fu, was a famous and fierce general in the Three Kingdoms period."
"You mean Zhao Tongfu?" Zhao Yun thought for a moment and said, "This man is indeed from the same hometown as me. He's not a general; he's just someone who feeds our horses. But we're quite close. He always calls me 'Big Brother.'"
Old Zhao stared in disbelief, then flew into a rage, roaring, "Little brat, you've gone too far!" He then lunged forward with his spear as if his life depended on it. Zhao Yun deftly deflected the attack, explaining, "Senior, please don't misunderstand. I'm telling the truth. Zhao Tongfu has a habit of printing his name on his horses to prevent confusion. You can see for yourself if you don't believe me."
Old Zhao paid no heed to what Zhao Yun was saying, stabbing and provoking him like a madman. Everyone around couldn't help but laugh, thinking that this young man, Zhao Yun, seemed so composed and mature, yet his words were so sarcastic. At first, I also thought Zhao Yun was being dishonest, but when the two horses crossed paths, I inadvertently discovered that there were indeed three characters printed on the rump of Zhao Yun's horse. Upon closer inspection, I realized: Zhao Tongfu—
Chapter 202 Wine Comparison
Zhao Yun, riding a horse named Zhao Tongfu, engaged in a fierce battle with Old Zhao. Enraged, Old Zhao launched a relentless attack, his spear thrusts falling like a storm. Zhao Yun, seated on his horse, though easily handling him, couldn't help but feel uneasy seeing his opponent so enraged despite his advanced age. He wondered what he had said wrong.
Actually, Old Zhao was angry mostly because his idol was insulted. These military generals were all rude people, and it was common for them to say provocative things like "I am your ancestor" when they were on the battlefield. But the other party was a young man who actually claimed to be Zhao Yun. Old Zhao couldn't stand it.
There are two kinds of idols. One kind you might swoon over today, only to feel incredibly foolish tomorrow. The other kind influences you for a lifetime. This kind of idol isn't usually very beautiful, nor necessarily a great singer or actor, but they benefit you for life; they are a sacred place in your heart that you can never desecrate. Zhao Yun must be that kind of idol in Old Zhao's heart, which can be heard from the tone of his voice when he talks about Zhao Yun. Of course, having only one ancestor named Zhao Tongfu isn't very impressive; our Xiao family also has an ancestor named Xiao Gouwa.
On the field, the two Zhaos clashed. Although Old Zhao's momentum was fierce, he couldn't do anything to Zhao Yun. Gradually, everyone could see that their spear techniques seemed quite similar, except that Zhao Yun's was natural. The handsome young man with a dark face sat upright on his horse, his spear thrusts sometimes gentle and sometimes firm, as if the spear had an extended arm in his hands. Looking at Old Zhao, one had to admire the old man's stamina. At his advanced age, he could still swing his spear like a young lad, but he ended up working alone, unable to get close to Zhao Yun. The old man was both angry and anxious, riding his horse all over the field. Zhao Yun and Zhao Tongfu cooperated perfectly, neither falling behind nor pressing too hard. From a distance, the scene was quite peculiar: an old man with a white beard jumping around a young man, shouting and yelling, while the young man remained as steady as a mountain. If the situation were reversed, it could be interpreted as the teacher giving the student pointers, but right now it can only be explained as an old man harassing someone.
Those present were all discerning and could see that if Zhao Yun hadn't been mindful of his opponent's age, Old Zhao would have been overwhelmed long ago. But Old Zhao, whether blinded by his own circumstances or simply shameless, continued thrusting his spear relentlessly, left and right, until after more than ten minutes he finally ran out of energy and began to catch his breath during a brief pause in the stirrups. Even then, he didn't stop, thrusting another fifty or so times. The old man, clutching the saddle, was now completely out of breath…