Chapter 183

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Zhang Xiaohua, while discussing the serious matter of character with Zhang Xiaohu, slowly walked back.

Since he knew he didn’t need to personally act and could smoothly enter the fourth round without much effort, why not enjoy it? Zhang Xiaohua felt extremely relaxed and even started humming a countryside tune.

Zhang Xiaohu listened closely and realized the lyrics were: “Sister, you sit at the bow of the boat, while brother walks along the shore!”

He was startled and thought to himself: “Since when has Guo Village had such a song? How come I’ve never heard it before?”

By the time the two returned to their original spot, the third round of the competition was nearing its end, and many disciples were off to the side resting and regulating their breathing.

Zhang Xiaohu, feeling envious, said softly: “Xiaohua, look at how good they are. They’re so young, yet they already have the chance to cultivate profound internal techniques and exquisite fist techniques. When we were their age, we were still busy helping father and mother with work in the fields.”

Zhang Xiaohua, however, was unconcerned. He shook his head slightly and said: “Second Brother, everyone has their own path. It’s different for each person. Sure, they might have the chance to glimpse the mysteries of martial arts, but they’ve lost the opportunity to enjoy family life. As the ancients say, ‘Who knows if fortune or misfortune lies in gain or loss?'”

He then comforted Zhang Xiaohu, saying: “Now, Second Brother, look—you have Hero Wen teaching you martial arts. As for me, I have my Big Dipper Divine Fist and Piaomiao Step, and, oh, the [Wild Ox Strength] you gave me. Compared to when we first came to Pingyang City, it’s like night and day. One must learn to be content.”

Zhang Xiaohu nodded and said: “Yes, no matter what, we’re just mud-legged peasants from the countryside. To make it this far hasn’t been easy. We should indeed be grateful.”

Zhang Xiaohua glanced at Zhang Xiaohu and said: “It seems Second Brother has come to understand.”

“Yes,” Zhang Xiaohu exhaled deeply and said: “Whether you want something or not isn’t the issue; whether you can come to terms with it is. Since Master has accepted me as a disciple, he naturally intends to teach me martial arts. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stood up for me in front of everyone. This recent period of neglect must have its reasons. I’ll just focus on being myself, regardless of the vicissitudes of the world.”

“Well said, Second Brother.” Zhang Xiaohua clapped in admiration. “So, are you still going to keep the door of your courtyard tightly shut?”

Zhang Xiaohu, with a calm expression, said: “Closing is opening, and opening is closing—why bother making distinctions?”

“Dizzy~” Zhang Xiaohua was puzzled. “Closed means closed, and open means open. How can you say something so contradictory?”

Zhang Xiaohu explained quietly: “In time, you’ll understand.”

Just as the brothers were talking, another call rang out from the field—the final round of the second stage of the Martial Arts Competition was finally about to begin.

Zhang Xiaohu patted Zhang Xiaohua on the shoulder, encouraging him: “Xiaohua, this is the final match. Give it your all. Whether you win or lose, you’ve already left a solid mark on the Martial Arts Competition.”

Zhang Xiaohua brushed the dust off his pants and grinned, showing his teeth: “Second Brother, just watch me!”

Before the two of them even reached the arena, they heard a long, drawn-out voice calling: “Number 250, where are you? Hurry up.”

Zhang Xiaohua and Zhang Xiaohu exchanged glances and quickly ran inside.

By now, the Martial Arts Competition had entered the final round of the second stage. Only thirty-two disciples from the Young Eagle Hall had advanced, and the final match was starting simultaneously across sixteen stages. In other words, there were only sixteen matches taking place, with all the stages gathered in the center.

At this moment, a large crowd had already gathered around the sixteen stages, eagerly awaiting the exciting matches.

As Zhang Xiaohua responded to the call, he ran toward the ring.

Zhang Xiaohu followed behind, but as he passed the stage from the previous match, he carefully ran over and picked up the ladder leaning against the edge of the stage, slinging it over his shoulder.

It was no joke—this ladder was essential for Zhang Xiaohua to get onto the stage. If his second brother didn’t take care of it, who else could he rely on?

Though Zhang Xiaohua hadn’t yet learned Qinggong, he certainly wasn’t slower than anyone else when running. By the time Zhang Xiaohu turned around, Zhang Xiaohua had already disappeared from sight.

Fortunately, the square was full of little kids, and with Zhang Xiaohu’s height, he wasn’t worried about losing track of Zhang Xiaohua.

And sure enough, over there, isn’t that Zhang Xiaohua? Standing anxiously under the stage, looking left and right, waiting for the “magic weapon” to help him get up.

Zhang Xiaohu quickly pushed through the crowd of disciples watching the spectacle. Under their curious gazes, he set the ladder against the stage. The moment the crowd saw this, a wave of whispers erupted, and it was clear they were discussing the purpose of the ladder. Zhang Xiaohua’s face had never been redder. He made a mental vow that the first thing he would do upon returning to Huanxi Villa was to master this Qinggong technique. Otherwise, how could he face such embarrassment when traveling outside?

Under the gaze of countless onlookers, Zhang Xiaohua climbed up the ladder onto the stage.

Zhang Xiaohua’s final opponent had already been waiting on the stage.

It was a boy who appeared rather simple and honest, with well-developed muscles and a tall build, a full head taller than Zhang Xiaohua. If Zhang Xiaohua hadn’t known that only he, Shangguan Yun, and Yu Deyi were wild card contestants, he would’ve already gone up to chat with his opponent to inquire about his background.

When Zhang Xiaohua steadied himself on the stage, the Group Leader below shouted: “You may begin!”

The disciple opposite Zhang Xiaohua cupped his hands and said in a deep, booming voice: “I am Tang Shi, a disciple of the Young Eagle Hall. Please guide me, Senior Brother.”

Naturally, Zhang Xiaohua returned the gesture of respect.

Both of them then assumed their starting stances. Seeing that Zhang Xiaohua was ready, Tang Shi called out: “Senior Brother Zhang, I have quite a bit of strength, so be careful.”

With that, he raised his large fist and swung it toward Zhang Xiaohua.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Xiaohua chuckled inwardly, thinking: “It seems this Tang Shi is just like Shi Niu, relying on external martial arts. Judging by his straightforward nature, he’s likely a forthright man like Shi Niu as well.”

During Zhang Xiaohua’s journey through Piaomiao Sect’s martial competition, every opponent he faced was an internal martial artist, all excelling in inner strength. Zhang Xiaohua had begun to think that external martial arts had faded within the Piaomiao Sect and that it was rare to find exceptional practitioners. To his surprise, in the final round, he encountered one. Without much thought, he knew that his opponent must be extremely outstanding to have made it to the final round relying solely on external martial arts.

However, Zhang Xiaohua was quite confident in his own strength. As he saw Tang Shi’s fist approaching, he didn’t dodge it but instead stepped forward to meet it head-on, clenching his fist and swinging it forward.

Tang Shi’s fist was actually a full size larger than Zhang Xiaohua’s.

With a dull “bang”, the two fists collided. A tremendous force surged through them, and Zhang Xiaohua’s body swayed as he was pushed back four steps before he could steady himself. Zhang Xiaohua shook his slightly sore arm and wrist before reassessing his opponent.

Tang Shi was equally surprised. His previous opponents, who were familiar fellow disciples, rarely dared to clash fists with him. Even those with deep internal strength wouldn’t attempt it. This strange disciple in front of him, who appeared weak and frail, had the audacity to trade blows with him. In truth, Tang Shi had held back some of his strength for fear of injuring his opponent, but Zhang Xiaohua was not injured. He merely stepped back a few paces, and Tang Shi himself had retreated two steps. The key difference was that while Zhang Xiaohua merely shook his hand, Tang Shi’s wrist and fist were already feeling somewhat numb.

Tang Shi raised his head and reevaluated the seemingly unimpressive opponent standing before him.

Their gazes met on the stage, and sparks seemed to fly between them.

Both were astonished, filled with mutual respect, and also unwilling to concede. In that moment, a sense of admiration for each other as worthy opponents surged in their hearts. Without hesitation, their eyes narrowed slightly, and with a loud shout, they both charged forward again, their fists colliding once more in a fierce exchange.

From below the stage, the crowd heard nearly ten consecutive muffled “bang bang bang” sounds. When they focused their eyes again, they saw that the two fighters on stage had pulled away from each other, both massaging their right hands with their left, breathing heavily and wincing in pain. Clearly, their right hands were in considerable pain.

Seeing this, the crowd couldn’t help but be astonished, and the chatter rose once again.

Everyone was well aware of who Tang Shi was and how skilled he was. His reputation was thunderous among the disciples and group leaders of the Young Eagle Hall. Not only was his martial ability renowned, but his immense strength was unmatched by nearly any of the other disciples. Yet, here was an ordinary-looking, slender youth exchanging ten or so real, head-on punches with Tang Shi without falling behind. It was completely unexpected.

Some of the disciples, who had seen Zhang Xiaohua fight before or had sparred with him, had looked down on him until now. His record of nine draws in the first round had failed to convince anyone of his abilities, and in the earlier matches of the second round, many felt that his victories were won through clever tactics rather than pure martial prowess. There was a sense that his wins lacked honor.

But this punch exchange with Tang Shi showed Zhang Xiaohua’s true strength. His arm strength alone was something to be reckoned with.

However, Zhang Xiaohua knew full well that strength alone didn’t equate to martial prowess. To be honest, he was slightly at a disadvantage in that punch exchange. He also gained a bit of insight from it—no wonder his impressive arm strength hadn’t drawn much attention within the Piaomiao Sect. If even a ten-year-old disciple from the Young Eagle Hall had strength on par with his own, there was no point comparing himself to those higher-ranked disciples who had already advanced through several levels of the Cloth-Robes. His strength, in the eyes of Piaomiao Sect, was indeed nothing remarkable.

Tang Shi, seeing that brute strength alone wasn’t enough to overpower Zhang Xiaohua, stood up again, assuming a palm stance with his left hand and clenching his right fist, launching an attack. It was none other than the Great Strength Varja Palm.

Upon seeing this, Zhang Xiaohua was secretly delighted and responded with a punch, using his Big Dipper Divine Fist.

The two continued to battle for a while, still unable to determine a victor. Meanwhile, the incense stick that marked the time had already burned halfway.

With Zhang Xiaohua’s limited combat experience, in previous matches, he had relied on his strength and fist techniques to pressure his opponents, forcing them into a defensive position. But this time, Tang Shi’s method was preventing Zhang Xiaohua from gaining the upper hand. Realizing this, Zhang Xiaohua’s eyes flickered with an idea. He withdrew his Big Dipper Divine Fist and immediately lightened his steps, his body becoming nimble. He smoothly transitioned into the Piaomiao Step, gracefully dodging Tang Shi’s moves with elegance and ease.

When Zhang Xiaohua switched from offense to defense, most of the disciples who had never faced him didn’t react much. However, those who had suffered under his Piaomiao Step had expressions of grief and indignation, exclaiming: “That scoundrel is at it again, using that despicable, shameless footwork!”

Among them was the disciple who had fought Zhang Xiaohua in the second round. He was especially pained and shouted loudly: “Copying! Copying! He’s doing it again!”

The strategy of evasive defense wasn’t uncommon in the Martial Arts Competition, but it was usually seen in the first stage. In the second stage, where there were no draws, if a contestant remained in a disadvantaged position throughout the match, even a tie would result in a loss. The disciples who advanced to the second stage were all top-tier, with relatively similar skill levels. Most preferred to engage in direct combat, and rarely would anyone use Qinggong to evade. Zhang Xiaohua’s previous opponent had been judged to lose precisely because he had used this tactic too freely. So now, seeing Zhang Xiaohua use it again, many were puzzled.

However, Zhang Xiaohua’s evasive technique differed from others. Piaomiao Sect’s disciples, when using evasive maneuvers to dodge attacks, typically relied on Qinggong, which consumed inner strength. Although it cost less than an aggressive offense, it still drained their energy. But Zhang Xiaohua didn’t have any inner strength. What he used was purely the Piaomiao Step—a technique of footwork that was more a Qinggong-like skill, which didn’t consume any inner strength at all.

The reason Zhang Xiaohua decided to resume using the Piaomiao Step wasn’t because his Big Dipper Divine Fist was inferior to the Great Strength Vajra Palm, but because he realized something. In the second stage, which consisted of four matches, he had just gotten a break by drawing an empty round. Manager Xu mentioned there was another bye in the second match, but it was unlikely that Tang Shi had the luck to draw one. This meant Tang Shi had already gone through three intense battles. Since Tang Shi practiced external martial arts, he couldn’t regulate his breathing to recover stamina, unlike Zhang Xiaohua, who could use his fist technique to regain strength. Zhang Xiaohua deduced that Tang Shi had already exhausted much of his energy. If he fought Tang Shi head-on, he might end up at a disadvantage due to inferior strength and technique. Therefore, it was wiser to feign weakness now, adopt a guerrilla strategy, and continue depleting Tang Shi’s stamina. By conserving his own energy, when the second incense stick burned down, he could launch a decisive attack, which would likely yield excellent results.

Zhang Xiaohua’s plan was indeed correct. Tang Shi launched another fierce attack, but after failing to touch even a single hair of Zhang Xiaohua, he grew frustrated, his steps becoming heavier, and the force behind his punches weakening. Seeing this, Zhang Xiaohua immediately abandoned the Piaomiao Step and launched an attack with his fists. Tang Shi, startled, quickly gathered his focus and intensified his offensive. However, as soon as Zhang Xiaohua saw Tang Shi’s strikes becoming fierce again, he swiftly switched back to the Piaomiao Step. After repeating this several times, Tang Shi was utterly exhausted—not just physically, but mentally as well. After fighting three earlier matches, Tang Shi had already expended much of his energy, and unlike Zhang Xiaohua, he had no easy way to recover his strength. By this final match, he was already strong on the outside but weak on the inside. In particular, the initial exchanges had cost him greatly in stamina. His plan had been to concentrate his strength and overwhelm his opponent early, knocking them off the platform in the initial stages.

Yet, just as Zhang Xiaohua had built up his energy and prepared to engage in a head-on clash, he suddenly switched to guerrilla tactics—harassing when the enemy was tired and retreating when the enemy advanced. This ignited a fire of frustration in Tang Shi’s heart. He could feel his strength slowly draining away, and he was truly starting to tire. He desperately wanted to end the battle with one powerful punch, but facing Zhang Xiaohua, who was as slippery as an eel, he couldn’t land a single blow.

Soon, one incense stick had burned out, and the second was already halfway through. Zhang Xiaohua and Tang Shi both glanced at the incense stick simultaneously, each forming different thoughts. Tang Shi was pleased, thinking that since he had been in control of the fight from the moment he stepped on the stage, even if Zhang Xiaohua intensified his attacks during the second half of the incense stick, as long as he could endure, the match would end in a tie—and a tie in this stage meant a victory for him. If that happened, this match would mirror Zhang Xiaohua’s previous victory in reverse.

Zhang Xiaohua, on the other hand, was also pleased. He saw that Tang Shi’s energy was nearly depleted, while most of his own strength remained. With the balance tipping in his favor, the time for offense had come. If he didn’t attack now, when would he?

With that, Zhang Xiaohua stopped using the Piaomiao Step and launched a punch. Although Tang Shi was tall and strong, he wasn’t foolish. He immediately began to dodge, but his Qinggong skills were weak, and he lacked the footwork of the Piaomiao Step. On such a small stage, where could he possibly escape to?

In just a few moves, Zhang Xiaohua had Tang Shi cornered at the edge of the stage. If Tang Shi didn’t exchange punches, he would surely be forced off the stage. With no other option, Tang Shi gritted his teeth and gave it his all, engaging Zhang Xiaohua in a fierce struggle. To his credit, Tang Shi was truly a remarkable talent. At the final moment, the force behind his punches and the power in his moves didn’t fall short compared to Zhang Xiaohua. In a few exchanges, he even forced Zhang Xiaohua back several steps. However, having already experienced their earlier exchange, Zhang Xiaohua could tell that Tang Shi was like a building on the verge of collapse—his strength was almost entirely spent. All Zhang Xiaohua needed to do was push a little harder, and he could claim victory.

Zhang Xiaohua’s spirits surged, and his fists rained down like a storm on banana leaves, leaving Tang Shi only able to defend without any chance to counterattack. Yet, even under this torrential assault, Tang Shi showed remarkable resilience. No matter how hard Zhang Xiaohua pressed, no matter how fierce his attacks, Tang Shi remained focused solely on defending, biding his time for the final moments of the match.

Tang Shi’s calmness made Zhang Xiaohua anxious. He didn’t want to repeat the mistake of being eliminated by a draw again. Taking a deep breath, he redoubled his efforts, each punch aimed at a spot where Tang Shi had no choice but to block. Step by step, Zhang Xiaohua forced him to the edge of the stage. Though Tang Shi couldn’t see what was behind him, he could sense how little space was left. The disciples below, many of whom were his fellow Young Eagle Hall brothers, called out: “You can’t retreat anymore! Just four or five steps left before you’re off the stage!”

Tang Shi tried to dodge, but Zhang Xiaohua was determined this time, giving him no room to escape. Tang Shi’s energy was nearly spent, and it took everything he had just to block Zhang Xiaohua’s punches, let alone push him back.

Seeing that Tang Shi was right on the edge of the stage, Zhang Xiaohua felt a surge of joy. He gathered all his remaining strength and shouted: “You’re going down!”

With that, he launched a powerful punch, channeling all his energy, aiming straight for Tang Shi’s chest.