I never would have guessed that they shaved their heads just to guard against Shi Qian! Since they didn't know the order of appearance, they all shaved their heads. It seems they've done a lot of research on us for this match, even their attack on Zhang Qing was specifically designed to counter us.
This is also Shi Qian's fault. Ever since he learned how to twist people's hair, he has been doing it with great enthusiasm. His boxing gloves are covered with a layer of hair oil, which is particularly disgusting. He has to use Nizoral to wash it off.
Shi Qian's scheme failed, and the three bald men were particularly pleased. Moreover, the Taekwondo athletes who competed against Shi Qian were probably very happy, because their favorite thing to do was kick people in the head, and given Shi Qian's height, kicking his head was the same as kicking an ordinary opponent in the chest, greatly reducing the technical difficulty. However, there was an added difficulty: if Shi Qian slightly bent his waist and legs, he was prone to missing his kick and injuring his back. Also, he never stood still in one place; his jumping and leaping energy was like a monkey injected with 5000cc of chicken blood.
Lin Chong looked at the stage and asked me, "Can we win the quarterfinals?"
"Win! Why can't we win?" Shi Qian was darting around on the stage, and San Tuzi couldn't gain any advantage. He was starting to get anxious. We should be fine in this match.
"If we win one more game, we'll be fourth. Didn't you only aim for fifth?"
Lin Chong's question stunned me; I'd never seriously considered this before—it turns out there's no fifth place. If we lose in the quarterfinals, we can only say we made it to the quarterfinals; if we win, it's the semifinals. Even if we lose in the semifinals, we still have to play a third-place match, which would be too conspicuous. If Yu Cai becomes the focus of attention, and the 300 heroes leave, their hearts will have already flown to Liangshan. That would be a real problem. Not to mention what if someone tries to disrupt things, people come here to learn from you; I can't exactly demonstrate with a brick in hand, can I?
I thought for a moment and said, "Brother Lin, take a look at the other teams' matches later. If we draw a strong team tomorrow, let's take advantage of that and make it into the top 8. That would be something to show for it." Lin Chong nodded.
At this moment, Shi Qian was still circling around his opponent on the stage. The bald man was getting impatient, his punches and kicks becoming increasingly erratic. Shi Qian darted behind the referee, and the bald man, unable to stop his attack, kicked the referee in the stomach. The referee reacted quickly, grabbing the bald man's leg and pulling him into his arms, shouting "Hey!" and forcefully pushing him down. The bald man fell to the ground with a thud. The audience was stunned for a moment before erupting into applause. The referee, embarrassed, clasped his hands in a gesture of respect to the surrounding crowd.
After this battle, the three bald guys were demoralized, and the 10-minute match ended hastily, with Shi Qian winning on points. Their captain, Big Baldy, bowed to me and asked for a hug. Then he whispered in my ear, "I haven't seen you make a move from beginning to end. I won't leave until you fight a match."
Suddenly, the audience spontaneously stood up, clapping and chanting in unison, "Tie-up! Tie-up!" The referee looked at the cheering audience and said to me, "Team Leader Xiao, if you don't mind, why don't you have an exhibition match with this Master Wu? I'll go and ask the chairman for permission right away." It seemed he was also very curious about me.
I waved my hand dismissively, seemingly magnanimously: "There will be opportunities, there will be more opportunities." Inwardly, I cursed: "You just want to see me go through hell and back? I really won't grant your wish." Xiaoqiang's survival philosophy wasn't about not being afraid of death, but about wanting to live.
Looking at the excited audience, I clasped my hands in a fist salute to them, and secretly flicked my middle finger inside my boxing glove.
"I'm not playing with you guys anymore! Let the quarterfinals go to hell!"
Chapter Eighteen: Fighting for Fame
When we left the court, Red Sun was playing the fourth game, and they were temporarily leading 2-1. It seems like this game is going to be a close match.
At the same time, two more teams entered the arena, including Tong Yuan and her Crescent Moon team. As she brushed past us, I called out to her, "Girl, play well!" Tong Yuan just smiled slightly, and I could tell she was thinking. Normally, she would have definitely argued with me. I wonder what kind of scheme this girl is plotting now. I admire her for getting this far with her brains. But this match is uncertain. Using the Tian Ji horse racing strategy all the time isn't a solution. At least Tian Ji's top-class horse could beat the King of Qi's average horse. If he had brought three pigs, I wonder what Sun Bin could have done. Of course, that's a bit harsh on the girls; they are actually quite capable.
When she and Hu Sanniang were face to face, Hu Sanniang shouted, "Sisters, let's have a match sometime." Tong Yuan, seeing a big bald man talking to her, was a little distracted and couldn't help but ask me, "Is this brother from your team... Oh, sorry, he's actually a nun." My friends and I burst into laughter.
We returned to our seats. The rural experts from Hongri had also won their match, and next up on their stage was Tiger versus—Duan Tianlang. Dong Ping, watching through his binoculars, chuckled, "This time it's a battle between tiger and wolf." Even so, we all knew that Tiger and his team were far inferior to Duan Tianlang; the term "battle" was simply inappropriate.
As expected, Tiger was defeated in the first match by a young man in his twenties from Duan Tianlang's side. Although the second match was quite intense, the Tiger team still suffered a point disadvantage. Just after the referee announced the results, Duan Tianlang, who had been resting with his eyes closed in the audience, suddenly stood up, tossed his cloak to his disciple, and without any apparent movement, stood on the stage. It seemed he would personally participate in the third match. Tiger's side was represented by a kind-looking man, whom Tiger seemed to call his senior brother, and who was the strongest in their sect. The two men sized each other up from the moment they stepped onto the stage, clearly already simmering with tension. And once they started fighting, the difference was immediately apparent. The stage was a blur of motion; their attacks were fluid and varied, employing hooks, grapples, locks, and strikes. Aside from their attire, it no longer resembled a competitive match; it was clearly a duel between two top masters.
I pointed at Duan Tianlang and asked Lin Chong, "How does he compare to you?" Lin Chong looked at the two fighting on the ring with his hands behind his back and slowly said, "I'm confident if we're fighting with a spear on horseback. But if we're fighting with fists on the ground, then it's hard to say."
At this point, the audience grew increasingly frenzied. The two fighters had finally unleashed their most powerful techniques, their rapid-fire attacks dazzling the eye. I quickly raised my binoculars, but the imposing figures of the two masters appeared as distant and unattainable as distant mountains—I was holding the binoculars upside down.
In this fast-paced action, like something out of an eight-times-fast-forward sequence, the facial muscles of the two men twitched as if electrocuted, their figures blurring into indistinct shadows. The moves were completely invisible, only the overlapping shadows producing a series of sharp, resounding thuds. Not only the ordinary spectators, but even the experts and the five judges on the platform were mesmerized. Then, at this crucial moment, the intermission whistle blew. Duan Tianlang immediately stopped his move and stood at attention, but Tiger's senior brother, unable to stop, lunged forward again. Duan Tianlang moved aside, lifting him by the shoulder, allowing Tiger's senior brother to regain his footing. With so many skilled fighters present, this single exchange clearly demonstrated that Duan Tianlang ultimately possessed the superior skill.
In the other half of the competition, Tong Yuan and her team had already finished their matches. They had clearly lost the first two rounds, and Tong Yuan then decided to forfeit the remaining matches. This was because one of the remaining three female competitors, besides herself, had to participate in the singles competition the following day. To conserve her energy, Tong Yuan opted not to make a final push. She knew a thing or two about her opponents' strength from previous matches; they weren't someone who could be overcome by brute force. Because this was the first time someone had voluntarily given up, many people began to boo and whistle, but many spectators also applauded this beautiful team that brought a unique flavor to the event, and also applauded Tong Yuan's rationality.
The match between Duan Tianlang and Tiger Senior Brother basically captured all the attention in the arena, leaving the two teams in the other half of the match to pitifully play by themselves. With the cheers from the surrounding audience growing louder and louder, the players on stage couldn't concentrate at all, and their referee took every opportunity to glance at the opposing team. After one round, both players simultaneously requested to watch the other team's match before continuing…
At this point, Tiger and his team had reached the third round of the third match. Duan Tianlang was undoubtedly far more skilled, but because they were playing under the rules with gloves on, many of his moves were unusable or impossible to execute. Therefore, the two were currently locked in a tight tie. Time ticked by, and if the match ended in a tie and overtime, it would be disadvantageous for Duan Tianlang. He was certain to win, but wasting too much energy here would be detrimental to the later rounds. With 10 seconds left in the match, Duan Tianlang's toes touched the ground, and his body moved smoothly towards his opponent like a fish. The senior brother's arms were tightly clasped in front of his chest. Without any apparent effort, Duan Tianlang deftly deflected his elbow, leaving the senior brother wide open. Duan Tianlang suddenly spun in mid-air, kicking the senior brother in the chest, followed by two more kicks in mid-air. The eldest disciple involuntarily stumbled back to the edge of the platform, about to fall, when Duan Tianlang took a few steps forward and delivered a flying kick that landed squarely on the eldest disciple's chest. The burly man screamed as he fell off the platform. Tiger and the others rushed forward to catch him. The eldest disciple spat out a mouthful of blood and said miserably, "I lost."
Duan Tianlang walked to the edge of the stage, took the cloak embroidered with a wolf with ferocious teeth and put it on. His face was desolate, and he had a disgusting look of loneliness at the top.
However, this spectacular scene did not garner much applause. Everyone could see that even without the final kick, the senior brother would have fallen off the stage. Duan Tianlang's decision to deliver that final, vicious kick was chilling.
Lin Chong shook his head repeatedly and said, "This man gets injured as soon as he makes a move. If he encounters an opponent stronger than him, the backlash will be even more severe. It's better not to practice this kind of skill."
I asked, "Who on our mountain can take down this guy?" I was really annoyed by Duan Tianlang's arrogant, QQ-emoji-like appearance.
"If any one of the three brothers, Wu Song, Lu Zhishen, or Yan Qing, were present, taking him down would be a piece of cake," Zhang Qing said boastfully as he leaned over.
"Just tell me who's here?"
"..." Zhang Qing opened his mouth for a long time, then finally chuckled twice and said, "You know we are all warriors on horseback..."
I chuckled and said, "We've run into Shi Wengong again?"
Ruan Xiaowu said indignantly, "If we were in the water, he wouldn't be a match for me."
Ruan Xiaoer also felt that it was embarrassing for his brother to say that, so he slapped him and scolded, "He can't even beat Xiaoyu in the water."
I couldn't help but take another deep look at Duan Tianlang. I never expected that there would be such a powerful person in modern times who could leave the Liangshan bandits speechless.
As soon as the competition ended, the newly selected top 8 teams went to draw lots to prepare for the next round. I thought this might be our last draw, and felt a little disappointed, so I told Lin Chong I'd go by myself. When I got to the podium, all the other team leaders were already there. The chairman first announced the random pairings arranged by number, and then everyone took a number. I randomly picked up a slip of paper, unfolded it, and saw it was number 3. Looking at the pairings, it corresponded to number 8. I held the slip of paper and shouted, "Who's number 8?" The villager next to me, who represented Red Sun, heard me shout and laughed, "What a pity, I'm number 7. Hopefully, we'll meet in the next round."
At this moment, a young man with a buzz cut, about my age, glanced at the villager and said sarcastically, "You've achieved a comfortable life, huh? Still trying to slip away in the next round?" Then the buzz-cut man looked me up and down and said, "Don't shout, I'm number 8."
Having no desire to fight any further, I was happy to be friendly and shook his hand, asking, "What's your name?"
The guy with the buzz cut said lazily, "Hey Wang, what are your names, guys?" He handed me a business card. I pointed to the school flag across the street: "We're from Yucai."
The man with the buzz cut slapped his thigh: "Another Yucai! What's with all this fuss about Yucai? How many presidents and prime ministers have you produced that makes you Yucai? Peking University and Tsinghua University haven't asked you to do this, so why are you making such a fuss?"
Seeing that he was very agitated, I asked in bewilderment, "What's it to you if we call ourselves Yucai?"
The man with the buzz cut slapped his thigh again: "We're also called Yucai!"
I saw on the business card that it said Beijing Wencheng Wujiu Martial Arts Training Academy. This kid snatched it and slapped it in his hand, saying, "See? It's because of schools like yours that these two words are tarnished, making us afraid to print them on our phones. When I checked into a hotel with my old business card, the receptionist kindly recommended a guesthouse to me—our school's official name is: Beijing Yucai Martial Arts School."
I just remembered, there were five Yucai schools in this conference, and three of them were eliminated in the first round on the same stage. No wonder there was one missing; it turns out he'd been hiding all along. I laughed and said, "We're all from Yucai, so we're practically alumni."
The man with the buzz cut swatted my hand away, jumped off the platform with a thud, and said without turning his head, "Stop trying to get on my good side. Let me tell you, whoever loses the competition has to change their name—add a wood radical next to the character '才' (talent)."
I paused for a moment, then muttered, "The radical for 'wood'—'nurturing talent'?" It then dawned on me that this kid meant our school specializes in producing scraps. I considered kicking him a few times, but he'd already rejoined his team. I figured I couldn't possibly take on a team that made it to the top 8 by myself, so I didn't go…
Back in the shed, I was furious. I yelled at Song Qing, who was holding a pen and waiting for us to finalize the roster, "Put me first in the next match!"