Chapter 0014: As You Wish

The martial arts arena was set at the very heart of the hall, regarded as the most sacred ground of the entire Martial Arts Society. Here, the Four Kings, the Two Great Champions, and even the lone Heavenly King had all been born. To be able to compete atop this platform was a mark of distinction; only the very elite were granted such an honor.

At the center stood a traditional square ring, its foundation built from sturdy wooden stakes, topped with thick wooden boards. As soon as Zhang Xiaofan entered, he was met with a cacophony of cheers—most of them shrill, adoring cries from young women. Observing the starry-eyed, lovesick faces, Zhang Xiaofan could only shake his head with a wry smile. “I wonder what your expressions will be like in a little while...”

In the center of the ring, Bai Qi stood, dressed in a fitted martial outfit, stretching and limbering up. Every now and then he executed a flashy, difficult move, which immediately sent the crowd into a frenzy. One had to admit, he was dazzling.

“Zhang Xiaofan!”

A bright spotlight suddenly swept over to Zhang Xiaofan, momentarily startling him. Was this really just a school arena? The level of professionalism was astonishing.

A barrage of scornful gazes fell upon him, eyes filled with disdain. The jeers and mockery, however, were of little concern to Zhang Xiaofan, who walked steadily toward the arena, step by step. To silence the ignorant, nothing worked better than fists and overwhelming strength.

“He’s here! He’s actually at Jinghai High School!”

In the stands, a strikingly beautiful figure seemed especially surprised—it was Ye Qingcheng. She had heard that Bai Qi’s challenger was a Zhang Xiaofan, and, assuming it must be a different person with the same name, had come only on a whim. Yet it was indeed the very Zhang Xiaofan who had treated her illness.

The night before, Zhang Xiaofan had left without a word, leaving her no chance even to ask where he lived. She had brooded in disappointment all night. She had not expected to see him again so soon—her delight was boundless.

But then, how could she not be captivated? Not only had Zhang Xiaofan touched her chest and seen her body, he was also a formidable fighter, a brilliant healer, and, most dangerous of all, possessed a unique, magnetic charm.

“Hmph, don't think you’ll escape the palm of my hand!” Ye Qingcheng clenched her small fist, a little vexed at his unannounced departure.

At the same moment, another gaze, first startled, then cold and sharp as frost, fell upon Zhang Xiaofan.

“He’s not dead!”

“Uncle Cheng hasn’t returned all night, and there’s been no word. Was he killed? Impossible, absolutely impossible!”

This was Liu Zifeng, also a freshman like Ye Qingcheng. The “Uncle Cheng” he spoke of was the man in black robes—a hidden weapon of the Liu family, a notorious assassin rescued by the family and kept as a secret enforcer. Although Liu Zifeng knew Zhang Xiaofan was skilled, he refused to believe that Zhang Xiaofan could have killed Uncle Cheng.

“No matter if Uncle Cheng died at your hands or not, you won’t leave here alive!” Murderous intent filled Liu Zifeng’s heart. Now that he knew Zhang Xiaofan was a student at Jinghai High, he was confident he had many ways to make him disappear.

...

“Quite an entrance. I wonder what expression you’ll wear when I defeat you.” Ascending the platform, Zhang Xiaofan spoke with a light laugh, gazing at Bai Qi without the slightest trace of nervousness.

“If I lose, then all this honor naturally becomes yours,” Bai Qi replied quietly. “But if you’re truly a master, there’s no need for empty words, is there?”

“Heh, you’re right—words are pointless. But I do admire you. This fight won’t disappoint you.” Zhang Xiaofan’s smile was warm.

Bai Qi’s character truly appealed to him; there was clarity in his eyes and a burning will to fight.

“Then let’s begin.” Bai Qi nodded. He couldn’t say why, but though Zhang Xiaofan seemed unremarkable, Bai Qi felt a deep pressure emanating from him.

Zhang Xiaofan looked toward the high platform in the distance. As he did, a sonorous bell sounded, and the crowd immediately quieted—they all knew the rules here.

“The challenge begins! Stop at first blood—no mortal blows allowed!” boomed a deep voice. The match had officially started.

In that instant, Bai Qi’s face turned solemn, his eyes sharp as lightning, his fighting spirit surging as he took his stance.

Hong Fist, the Craftsman’s Tiger Subduing Form.

Zhang Xiaofan recognized the technique at a glance. Though Bai Qi had not yet moved, a powerful aura radiated from him. Zhang Xiaofan could tell Bai Qi’s mastery was considerable.

“Come, show me your strength.”

Zhang Xiaofan respected a worthy opponent, and he resolved to make Bai Qi accept defeat wholeheartedly—as a mark of respect.

“As you wish!” Bai Qi shouted, his shoulders dropping, back expanding, launching a fierce punch at Zhang Xiaofan. The wind howled, the force crackled, his stance as unyielding as tree roots.

Feeling the ferocity of the blow, Zhang Xiaofan saw that Bai Qi had already developed inner force—the precursor to true internal martial arts. For someone Bai Qi’s age, this was impressive.

Zhang Xiaofan had no intention of using his spiritual power; even a casual strike would easily overpower Bai Qi if he did. After all, Zhang Xiaofan was a true martial cultivator, while Bai Qi had not yet reached that level.

“Is that guy scared stiff? Why isn’t he moving? Even if you’re going to lose, at least put up a fight!”

“I skipped my date for this—don’t tell me he’s going down in one punch? Come on!”

“Bai Qi, show your strength!”

“Bai Qi! Crush him!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and shouts from all sides of the arena. Supporters were allowed—such was the tradition.

“Go, Xiaofan!” Only Yin Rourou and Wang Yuqing cheered for Zhang Xiaofan, though their voices were quickly drowned out. Beside them, Zhu Jianlong clenched his fists, lost in his own thoughts.

“If you’re using the Craftsman’s Tiger Subduing Form, then I’ll answer with the Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist!” Zhang Xiaofan thought calmly. He shifted his left foot lightly, tilting his body to deftly evade Bai Qi’s punch. At the same time, his left hand formed a fist, striking upward at an angle, landing squarely on Bai Qi’s elbow.

The immense force broke Bai Qi’s attack instantly, sending him stumbling back, his arm numb with the impact. He realized he was facing a true master today.

That single exchange—Zhang Xiaofan’s judgment and speed were astonishing. More than that, Bai Qi detected hints of Jeet Kune Do in the move, and within that punch, a flash of the Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist.

This was proof that Zhang Xiaofan’s mastery of martial techniques had reached an extraordinary level, far beyond mere forms.

“This young man is interesting...” In the stands, an elderly man’s eyes shone brightly; what had seemed dull moments before was now keen and focused, fixed on the ring. Similar reactions rippled through other areas of the hall—expressions turning serious, eyes sharpening, all attention riveted on the stage.

In a single move, Bai Qi was on the defensive. Many in the audience stared, mouths agape.

Bai Qi, one of the Four Kings, had been driven back with a single blow?

How could this be?

Yin Rourou and the others cheered wildly for Zhang Xiaofan, overcome with excitement.

“You’re very strong,” Bai Qi said, his gaze fixed on Zhang Xiaofan, feeling the immense pressure.

“Are you satisfied?” Zhang Xiaofan smiled lightly. “Now it’s my turn. I hope you can withstand it.”

His face suddenly steeled, and then his fist surged forward like a dragon, embodying the might of a vajra—just one punch, but it felt as though even a ferocious tiger would be sent flying. This was the essence of tiger subduing!

Zhang Xiaofan’s attacks came swift and relentless, like the wrath of a divine guardian—fast, fierce, and powerful. Bai Qi blocked again and again, but he was forced back, his arms growing numb, with no chance to counterattack.

The Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist: “Vajra” for strength as unyielding as diamond, “Tiger Subduing” for fearlessness and the aura of taming the wild beast.

At this moment, Zhang Xiaofan was the embodiment of righteous energy. Even those with no knowledge of martial arts were captivated by his presence.

A true punch has three realms: force, energy, and intent. Only by uniting all three can one attain the highest level.

Undeniably, at this instant, Zhang Xiaofan had reached that pinnacle.

“To master the Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist to such a degree—this young man is remarkable.” The elderly man’s eyes gleamed even more brightly. “It seems a new member of the Four Kings is about to be born.”

With a thunderous crash, Zhang Xiaofan unleashed a straight punch. Bai Qi reacted swiftly, defending himself, but his body was still sent flying from the ring like a cannonball.

This final strike contained the entirety of Zhang Xiaofan’s momentum from the bout. From start to finish, he used nothing but his own physical strength—yet even so, Bai Qi was powerless to resist.

Only now did the crowd, who had been holding their breath in shock, finally exhale, returning to their senses.

Bai Qi, one of the Four Kings, had lost—utterly and completely.

Onstage, it had been a one-man performance. That unremarkable high school senior had delivered an unparalleled spectacle.

“Yes! He won!” Yin Rourou and Wang Xueqing jumped for joy like little girls.

“This man’s strength might well surpass our own,” murmured a man in the stands, his expression grave as he stared intently at Zhang Xiaofan on the ring.

“Indeed. We, as the Two Great Champions, would not defeat Bai Qi with such ease. This student’s Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist is at the level of a true master. If it came to a real fight, perhaps we would not be his match.”

These two were none other than the champions of the Martial Arts Society:

The Phantom Champion, Dugu Feng.

The Dragon Champion, Long Aotian.

“There’s a powerful aura of righteousness in his technique. Could he be from Shaolin?” Dugu Feng mused.

“The Vajra Tiger Subduing Fist does originate from Shaolin,” Long Aotian replied, his tone low, “but to reach such a level, only the ancient, hidden Shaolin could produce a disciple like this.”

In the modern world, Shaolin was little more than a tourist attraction.

But what Long Aotian spoke of was the ancient Shaolin—the true lineage, passed down in secrecy through the ages, known to few and hidden from the world.