Chapter 23: Martial Arts Have No Limits

Su Jie quickly calmed himself.  

Although he had taken a few hits, he hadn’t lost his combat ability. Su Jie realized it was his carelessness that had put him at a disadvantage. Seeing that his opponent didn’t seem particularly strong, he hadn’t taken the fight seriously, leading to a momentary setback where he was nearly overwhelmed by the opponent’s rapid offensive.  

‘Engaging in combat happens in an instant. Even a master can be caught off guard and stunned by a weaker opponent if they aren’t paying attention. This is especially true in street fights. It seems I didn’t perform well and failed to maintain constant vigilance.’  

Once Su Jie regained his composure, the situation took a sharp turn. He observed carefully and increased the distance between himself and his opponent. He noticed that although Peng Haidong’s speed was impressive and his strikes carried significant power, his physical fitness was inferior to Huang Bo’s.  

Peng Haidong’s advantage lay in his ability to generate sharp, fast, and precise bursts of power with a long reach.  

However, no matter how far his strikes could reach, they were no match for weapons. Su Jie, trained in combat with weapons like knives and spears, quickly evaded Peng Haidong’s attacks.  

Two minutes later, Peng Haidong’s speed slowed significantly as his stamina rapidly declined.  

This was the difference between a professional and an amateur.  

Su Jie’s stamina was excellent. He had undergone physical conditioning and endurance training under the world’s best martial arts coaches. His rigorous conditioning, particularly the practice of hard-style martial arts, gave him extraordinary endurance.  

When Peng Haidong’s stamina waned and his movements slowed, Su Jie seized the opportunity. He lunged forward with a move resembling a farmer’s hoeing motion.  

However, Su Jie didn’t use his full strength. Instead, he held back, applying only seventy percent of his power. When his palm struck Peng Haidong’s face, it was a push rather than a strike.  

Peng Haidong’s vision darkened, and the immense force to his chest caused him to stumble and fall to the ground.  

After falling, Peng Haidong quickly slapped the ground, signaling his surrender.  

“Su Jie wins!”  

The referee announced.  

According to MMA rules, even after falling, a competitor could still continue by using punches or grappling techniques, as long as kicks weren’t involved. However, Peng Haidong was experienced enough to know that this was just a small-scale match, and there was no need to fight to the bitter end. Recognizing his obvious disadvantage, surrendering was the sensible choice.  

Having won two matches in a row, Su Jie felt invigorated. His abundant stamina, thanks to Odell’s excellent training regimen, was one of his key strengths. It was no wonder Nie Shuang valued him so highly.  

“Still want to fight?” 

Su Jie nodded to the referee. His answer stirred a discussion among the audience.  

The spectators of this small-scale arena were martial artists, professionals, and even some seasoned coaches or prominent figures from other martial arts academies.  

“Old Li, this one’s a good prospect.”  

In the VIP section, a few elderly and middle-aged individuals observed the match. Judging by their demeanor, they were respected veterans or martial arts academy leaders.  

One of the elderly men nodded repeatedly as he spoke to another, “This young man’s physical development is excellent, his stamina is abundant, and his mental composure is first-rate. His techniques, while still immature, are authentic and not flashy. He consistently relies on that one ‘farmer’s hoe’ move. This is commendable. Most young people today are fickle, chasing novelty and learning a multitude of techniques without mastering any.”  

The elderly man, known as Old Li, was evidently well-respected. His sharp evaluation of Su Jie was spot on.  

“If this student belonged to Minglun Martial Arts Academy, he would undoubtedly shine within two or three years. Old Li, are you thinking of recruiting him for your Yangming Martial Arts Academy?” someone asked. “If you don’t make a move, I will. Finding a promising talent these days is no easy feat. They must be intelligent, hardworking, and physically fit. It’s rare—very rare.”  

“Let’s see how it goes,” Old Li replied, still observing Su Jie with the keen eye of a teacher spotting a raw gem. “Peng Haidong’s Tongbei techniques are well-practiced—sharp, precise, and fast. But his physical fitness is lacking. He places too much faith in static stances and meditative training, which might work against ordinary opponents but fails against tougher ones. Old Peng’s son is clever but unwilling to endure hardships. That’s his downfall.”  

“Old Peng’s Tongbei skills are exceptional. Back in the day, his training was grueling. His son refuses to suffer the same hardships, but he’s still managed to develop the essence of Tongbei. That’s unique in its way.”  

“Compared to this Su Jie, young Peng still falls short.”  

Unbeknownst to Su Jie, his performance had caught the attention of many martial arts academy leaders.  

These veterans had nurtured countless martial arts talents, and their discerning eyes could easily spot promising prospects.  

Of course, the same principle applied to academics—exceptional students were highly sought after by teachers across classes and academies. Su Jie himself had been pursued in a similar manner. During his transition from middle to high academy, he had topped the entire region’s entrance exams.  

“Round three! Su Jie versus Wu Cheng!”  

After a medical evaluation confirmed Su Jie’s ability to continue, the referee arranged the third match.  

“Wu Cheng is a professional athlete, a member of the provincial team. He’s participated in numerous professional matches. Although he hasn’t reached the national level, he ranks among the top in the province.”  

“With Wu Cheng entering the ring, this young man doesn’t stand a chance. His winning streak will end here.”  

“Wu Cheng has been undergoing intense training in preparation for the upcoming national selection trials. He’s aiming to join the national team and is using this match as a warm-up.”  

As Su Jie’s next opponent, Wu Cheng, stepped into the arena, the atmosphere grew noticeably more electric.

Su Jie felt a chill rise in his heart as he watched Wu Cheng step into the arena. Without looking at the man’s build or movements, his instincts told him that this was an opponent he couldn’t match.  

Wu Cheng was a young man of about twenty, but there wasn’t a hint of youthful naivety on his face; instead, it bore a mature and seasoned expression.  

Dressed in shorts and bare-chested, Wu Cheng’s body was coated with a layer of oil, giving his bronze-toned skin a polished gleam. His muscles were smooth and well-defined, especially his waist, where his ribcage tapered dramatically into his hips. The striking contours resembled the sleek build of a running hound—typical of someone with exceptional core strength.  

“Begin!”  

At the referee’s command, Su Jie and Wu Cheng squared off.  

Wu Cheng’s prowess as a professional fighter became immediately apparent. He made no initial probing moves, instead sliding forward with swift steps, his feints and shifts so precise that it was impossible to tell real attacks from fake ones.  

Su Jie instinctively widened the distance between them, relying on his tried-and-true method: avoid close combat at all costs.  

Even if Wu Cheng was a professional, he was still just a man—one head, two arms, and two legs—not some mythical being with multiple limbs.  

Besides, Su Jie had trained with Odell regularly. Compared to Odell, Wu Cheng was at least two or three levels inferior.  

Su Jie maintained his strategy, retreating constantly and avoiding direct confrontation. Anytime Wu Cheng approached, Su Jie would run in the opposite direction. He had no intention of attacking, instead aiming to frustrate his opponent into making a mistake, just as he had done with Huang Bo.  

What if Wu Cheng was a professional? The octagonal cage was spacious enough for him to evade effectively.  

For five full minutes, Su Jie focused solely on evasion, biding his time for an opening that never came.  

Wu Cheng, however, remained expressionless, his movements mechanical yet relentless. He pursued, intercepted, and cornered Su Jie tirelessly. His stamina was extraordinary, and on several occasions, his punches and kicks grazed Su Jie’s arms and legs, leaving bruises but never landing cleanly.  

Wu Cheng’s strikes were incredibly powerful, living up to his reputation as a professional. Although Su Jie managed to protect his vital areas and avoid being knocked out, the areas where he was struck began to swell.  

“Time’s up.”  

The referee called an end to the match after five minutes.  

“Su Jie is disqualified for passive play,” the referee announced.  

“Passive play?” Su Jie was stunned. He had expected to lose based on points, but being penalized for passivity was unexpected.  

After leaving the cage, he quickly looked it up on his phone and discovered that in competitive matches, evading without counterattacking could result in disqualification for being overly passive.  

Passive play was a serious offense—not just a loss but one that could lead to future bans and disqualification from professional fighting. After all, even in combat sports, entertainment value was crucial. It was a sport, not a life-or-death struggle.  

In real combat, survival by any means was the ultimate goal.  

“It seems I’m not suited for professional fighting,” Su Jie reflected. “But participating in these matches occasionally is great for martial arts training.”  

Though the match ended with a disqualification for passivity, Su Jie felt even less inclined to pursue a professional fighting career. It wasn’t his path, merely a side pursuit in his life.  

However, he had promised Odell that he would compete in a few professional matches under his name. Su Jie knew he needed to prepare.  

Returning to his dorm, he rubbed some medicinal oil on his bruises, relaxed, and took deep breaths to ease the tension.  

Soon, his phone chimed with a notification—4,000 yuan deposited.  

It was the prize money for his two victories.  

“Not bad. Earning money this fast? But without some skill, it’d be impossible,” Su Jie mused.  

Reflecting on the three matches, he realized he had won the first through patience, the second by outlasting his opponent, and had been thoroughly defeated in the third. Wu Cheng had outclassed him in technique, stamina, and mental fortitude.  

Yet even in defeat, Su Jie gained valuable experience.  

Satisfied, he fell into a deep sleep.  

The next morning, Su Jie woke at three a.m. as usual. The swelling on his bruises had subsided considerably, though some areas still throbbed faintly.  

Undeterred, he continued his training regimen—strength, endurance, and techniques—spending the entire day drenched in sweat and focus.  

That evening, Su Jie returned to his routine of swatting flies off glass panes before seeking out Uncle Mang for a massage.  

“You went to a match yesterday? Your body has a lot of soft tissue injuries,” Uncle Mang noted as he began the massage. “Afterward, I want to try an acupuncture experiment on you.”  

“Acupuncture experiment?” Su Jie asked, puzzled, but he trusted that it would benefit him.  

“This will hurt—a lot. Only you could endure it,” Uncle Mang said, pressing into Su Jie’s muscles.  

After enduring what felt like hellish pain, Su Jie experienced a euphoric lightness. Uncle Mang’s massages, as painful as they were, had become something Su Jie looked forward to. 


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