Clang!
The triangular bayonet and the ironwood ruler clashed again, sparks flying.
Unlike daggers, the bayonet was primarily used for thrusting—it did not have slashing or parrying functions. But precisely because of its directness, it was even more terrifying. Paired with Feng Hengyi’s unadorned straight thrusts, there were very few people in the world who could withstand him.
Now, whether in computational ability, physical fitness, or comprehension of lethal combat techniques, Feng Hengyi was in no way inferior to Su Jie. In fact, he had been far superior before—Su Jie was only gradually catching up.
Hummm…
Feng Hengyi’s bayonet emitted a sound like a drill bit. His entire body seemed not of flesh and blood, but thoroughly mechanical.
The bayonet was not deflected by the ironwood ruler—it took advantage of the opening and drove straight into Su Jie’s chest.
Su Jie’s chest caved inward as the ironwood ruler snapped back and intercepted the bayonet again.
This technique was the “block” from spearmanship—drawing an arc from bottom to top.
On the third collision of their weapons, Su Jie experienced an insight from Tai Chi push-hands: neither yielding nor resisting. Stick to the opponent and flow with the momentum.
Tai Chi push-hands was actually meant to be applied to weapons. In empty-hand combat, the concept of neither yielding nor resisting had some validity, but its true application was in weapon combat.
“Not yielding” meant keeping your weapon attached to the opponent’s weapon. If you lost contact, the opponent’s weapon could become uncontrollable and come at you—you wouldn’t be able to defend.
“Not resisting” meant that when the opponent’s weapon came at you, you used the minimum force to change its direction, then counterattacked.
With a single block, Su Jie’s ironwood ruler had intercepted Feng Hengyi’s bayonet, like a blood-sucking fly clinging stubbornly to a cow’s back.
Then, he “seized” downward with a rounded force, like a cloth sack enveloping the bayonet, preventing even Feng Hengyi from generating his spiraling drill force.
At this moment, he was truly using Tai Chi principles against Feng Hengyi’s straight-line attacks.
Moreover, he had already integrated the push-hand techniques of Tai Chi into his “adze-hand” strike. His ironwood ruler had a slight curve—not a straight ruler, but a carpenter’s square—like a small “hoe.”
With this contact, Feng Hengyi tried to drive his bayonet forward but could not penetrate—instead, Su Jie had “wrapped” it using Tai Chi techniques. A flicker of surprise arose in Feng Hengyi’s mind.
He had not expected Su Jie’s strength to advance so rapidly.
Though he had calculated much of Su Jie’s data, he had still underestimated Su Jie’s talent in martial arts.
Someone like Su Jie, having reached his current realm, could learn any martial art or mental technique almost instantly after seeing it once. Moreover, he could innovate, eliminate all the flaws of the technique, improve its strengths, and make it even more formidable.
Even the complex “Nine Palaces Great Yu Thunder Section Orthodox Method”—a practice encompassing kinesiology, psychology, and environmental science, integrating heaven, earth, and humanity—Su Jie had now studied seventy to eighty percent, making new discoveries that surpassed Zhang Nianquan’s century of insight.
Of course, Su Jie had the advantage of Larich’s supercomputers—capable of performing the equivalent of billions of operations for decades or centuries in a single second. This was beyond human capability.
Chop!
In that flash of lightning, Su Jie finally used Tai Chi push-hand techniques to gain a slight advantage in the weapon duel.
The moment he wrapped the bayonet, Su Jie used the ironwood ruler as a hoe and chopped forward with a single, fluid motion, like a thunderbolt descending. With a rumble, the very air around him trembled.
He had also incorporated some of the essence of the “Nine Palaces Great Yu Thunder Section Orthodox Method” into this move.
This technique was originally used by ancient Daoist priests for qigong cultivation, for harmonizing spirit with heaven and earth, and for performing Daoist rituals—including rain-bringing ceremonies and thunder-summoning rites.
The technique wasn’t very practical for fighting—many of its power-generation methods could produce loud, thunderous sounds but were too slow and required fixed postures.
In combat, things changed in the blink of an eye—there was no time to assume fixed stances for power generation.
Only a true peerless expert, after full integration, could adapt some of these techniques for combat.
Clearly, Su Jie was that kind of person.
In this technique, the “Nine Palaces” referred to the patterns on the back of the divine turtle of ancient myth. “Great Yu” referred to the Daoist Yu Step—Yu the Great taming the floods, traversing the nine provinces, observing mountains and rivers, and opening dragon veins—the earliest environmental scientist. The “Thunder Section Orthodox Method” was Daoist qigong.
In Daoism, thunder was the highest power. All great Daoist masters possessed the ability to summon thunder, subdue demons, and exorcise evil spirits.
During the Song Dynasty, the Shenxiao Thunder Method was even practiced by emperors, who honored the Daoist Lin Lingsu as a national teacher.
Of course, humans could not truly summon thunder—”thunder” was merely a metaphor. The Thunder Method was a wondrous qigong practice combining breathing, physical movement, psychological suggestion, and environmental magnetic fields. With a single strike, one could generate power like thunder, producing an awe-inspiring momentum beyond ordinary imagination.
In that single chop, Su Jie was no longer using the simple “adze-hand” strike—it was now profoundly infused with the Thunder Orthodox Method.
His body arched forward and snapped like a bowstring releasing an arrow, producing a rumbling, muffled thunder. His arm, carrying the ironwood ruler, whipped out like a cracking whip—a sharp snap in the air like a thunderclap—striking downward with an unstoppable momentum, like a torrential river.
Heaven’s judgment.
Su Jie’s downward chop was like a heavenly deity executing a demon—he was delivering heaven’s judgment upon Feng Hengyi.
Feng Hengyi immediately found himself in danger.
But at that moment, Feng Hengyi flicked his wrist, retracting the bayonet, and retreated sharply, evading Su Jie’s strike.
Yet Su Jie’s offensive was not so simple. After the chop, his attacks continued in rapid succession—his body arched forward again like repeated thunderclaps, unending.
However, in that retreat, Feng Hengyi adjusted his breathing with some mysterious technique, restoring his momentum and power to their peak in an instant.
His body stood straight as a demon god—in Su Jie’s eyes, it seemed to grow taller and taller, vying with the heavens themselves.
Both had pushed their momentum to the limit. Neither would stop until one was dead.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Su Jie chopped out more than ten times in one breath, pressing the attack relentlessly. Feng Hengyi parried with his bayonet, each block precisely intercepting Su Jie’s strike, sparks flying once again.
Whoosh!
After more than ten clashes, Feng Hengyi’s momentum surged again. Suddenly, he flipped his body, seized an opening, and appeared at Su Jie’s left side. The bayonet darted out, aimed directly at Su Jie’s armpit—a thrust that could pierce the heart.
Su Jie sensed this as well. He sidestepped outward, evading the thrust by a hair’s breadth—it was Odell’s “magic step.” In his hands, it truly looked like teleportation, like shifting shadows.
But if he could use the magic step, Feng Hengyi could too.
The moment Su Jie evaded, Feng Hengyi seemed to predict the trajectory of his magic step. He sidestepped outward, exactly occupying Su Jie’s vulnerable position, and thrust his bayonet toward Su Jie’s abdomen.
This was a death-chasing thrust—a grim reaper’s strike.
*Truly formidable—a worthy adversary.* Su Jie felt a chill of caution. *He also came from Typhon Training Camp. The magic step is a basic advanced training technique. The techniques I inherited from Odell probably hold no secrets from him.*
As the bayonet closed in, Su Jie changed his footwork—to the Nine Palaces Yu Section, profound and mysterious, completely different in style from the magic step.
The magic step was fast, agile, shadow-like—its rotations impossibly quick.
The Yu Step was different—heavy, grand, each step both offensive and defensive, emphasizing defense above all, moving like a turtle shell—a shield on all sides.
Both footwork styles had their strengths.
Su Jie engaged Feng Hengyi once more.
With a weapon in hand, he could match Feng Hengyi’s bayonet.
By alternating between the Nine Palaces Great Yu Thunder Section and the magic step, his body movements were dazzling—even Feng Hengyi could not find an opening.
However, in his circling, Su Jie also could not find a weakness in Feng Hengyi.
Feng Hengyi was like an undefeated war god. Each thrust of his bayonet came from nowhere, as if striking out from empty space.
To an outside observer, their fight would seem like magic—their hands and feet moving so fast that, like a master card cheat switching cards, even if you watched closely you couldn’t spot the trick.
Feng Hengyi moved rapidly, his bayonet sometimes disappearing, sometimes appearing in his other hand. Occasionally he would kick—silent and invisible, yet immense in force. When his foot landed, cracks appeared in the ground.
But he landed soundlessly—rising and falling, even his shadow seemed to fade.
Under the streetlights, he was a demon.
Su Jie, by contrast, moved sometimes fast, sometimes slow. His ironwood ruler traced circles, arcs, parabolas everywhere, blocking all of Feng Hengyi’s attacks.
The two rolled and tumbled, fighting for a full three minutes without either landing a killing blow.
Suddenly, Feng Hengyi retreated.
Su Jie was about to pursue when Feng Hengyi flicked his wrist—the bayonet flew toward him as a thrown weapon. The projectile exploded at the perfect moment, shrieking through the air.
Su Jie ducked and dodged.
But the bayonet curved back and stabbed at his back.
Su Jie saw immediately that Feng Hengyi had attached a thin wire to the bayonet—just as Su Jie had once done against Zhang Hongqing.
This was a traditional martial arts technique: the rope dart.
Su Jie was an expert at this. He had long thought through the technique—tying a rope to a dagger made it both offensive and defensive, both long and short, extremely effective—though difficult for ordinary people to master.
At this critical moment, Su Jie remained confident, as if he had already anticipated this hidden trump card. He swayed, suddenly flicked his weapon, and severed the thin wire. Then, with a powerful kick, he struck the tail of the bayonet, accelerating it back toward Feng Hengyi.