“I refuse to believe it!”
When Qian Zheng got up, burning with anger, he attacked fiercely once again. Yet every time he closed in on Su Jie, he was hooked and thrown down.
Su Jie’s leg hook was as elusive as a ghost—extending and retracting like a spring—while his foot acted like a scythe slicing through wheat, reaching out and pulling as if it could even cut down a tree. This leg technique is known as “Mandarin Duck Feet.”
In the “Water Margin”, Wu Song was the master of this skill. The Jade Ring Steps and Mandarin Duck Feet, as showcased in the drunk-fight with Jiang Men Shen, were true masterpieces of this technique. In traditional Chinese martial arts, however, this falls under the category of leg thrusting and springing techniques.
Highly practical and stealthy, this hook disrupts an opponent’s balance and is often used during entangling holds or in the very moment of contact. It is one of Coach Gu Yang’s eighteen practical free-fighting techniques. Some of these traditional unarmed combat techniques are so effective that the martial arts practiced in the military have been refined from them.
Once Su Jie began his unpredictable maneuvers, even a provincial-level professional fighter—not to mention Qian Zheng—would have struggled to keep up. After being thrown down four or five times in succession, Qian Zheng was already dizzy and unsteady. Yet the fire within him grew even stronger, and he was determined to defeat Su Jie at all costs.
Just as he launched his sixth attack, his shoulder was grabbed.
A coach had stepped in, signaling for the bout to stop, and whispered, “Little Zheng, this guy is really formidable. You’re no match for him. Let me handle this.”
“Coach Hua Xing, it’s you.” Seeing the coach, Qian Zheng calmed down. This was the head coach of Starshine Combat Fitness Club, hired at a high salary by his father—a former national-level combat sports athlete who had retired to teach here. Qian Zheng had trained with him on and off for three years, which had made him far superior to the average person.
“Didn’t expect that even at your young age, your skills would be this good. How about a little fun?” Coach Hua Xing, taking Qian Zheng’s place, addressed Su Jie.
Seeing this man, Su Jie knew he was not someone to be underestimated—just like the boxing coach Tang Jin he had seen at Heart-Cleansing Manor earlier.
“Head coach, let me continue. It really isn’t time for you to step in,” a younger coach nearby interjected, eager to redeem his “young boss’s” honor.
“Go down,” Hua Xing waved him off. “You’re not his match.”
“He’s that strong?” the young coach muttered in disbelief, but he obeyed and led Qian Zheng off the ring.
Ning Zixi, watching from below, had already realized that Qian Zheng and Su Jie were in entirely different leagues. While those in the thick of the fight might not notice, onlookers could clearly see that in front of Su Jie, Qian Zheng was no better than a three-year-old child, collapsing at a mere shout.
‘Since when did Su Jie become so strong?’ Ning Zixi wondered. She had spent a whole summer learning karate and had picked up some knowledge about combat sports. She knew Qian Zheng’s prowess—he had trained from a young age, was guided by a renowned coach, and had worked hard with proper nutrition.
Although he wasn’t a professional, he was undoubtedly one of the best amateurs around.
But Su Jie? His athletic performance used to be quite average—not weak, but nothing outstanding. How could he become a super master in just one summer?
“Interested in a little sparring?” Coach Hua Xing invited Su Jie once more.
“Sure, what are the rules?” Su Jie replied readily. He had been holding back for a long time, and now, regardless of the opponent’s level, he was eager to challenge them and stretch his muscles.
“What are your strengths, young man?” Hua Xing asked casually.
“I’m good with bare hands,” Su Jie responded as he removed his boxing gloves.
His signature move, known as the “Hoe Strike,” centered on a chopping motion—like a downward slash of a blade or a hoe digging into the earth. To maximize speed, his fingers had to be spread wide, like eagle talons grabbing, allowing air to rush through the gaps. Wearing boxing gloves, however, would obstruct the airflow and reduce the speed. It’s akin to a fly swatter, which needs many tiny holes in the center to effectively swat a fly.
In the era of cold weapons, the chopping technique was widely used. In modern combat, punches are typically limited to jabs, hooks, and uppercuts—omitting the crucial chopping punch, precisely because boxing gloves restrict the movement. However, in street fights, the chopping punch is widely employed, colloquially known as the “turtle punch.” Whether it’s cats, tigers, leopards, or monkeys, their slashing attacks share a similar nature.
This month, Su Jie had delved into the studies of kinesiology, biomechanics, and the coordination and continuity of various movements—enough to fill a tens-of-thousands-word paper. His understanding of the “Hoe Strike” and its evolution since his martial arts school days had deepened profoundly.
“Interesting,” Coach Hua Xing remarked as he watched Su Jie remove his gloves. He then took off his own gloves and signaled to the referee that the bout could begin.
“Begin!” the referee shouted.
At that moment, Hua Xing’s eyes suddenly flickered as he aimed at Su Jie’s ribs.
In an instant, he withdrew his gaze, performing the exact same deceptive move Tang Jin had used in the past.
His mastery of the “Eight Methods of Eye Techniques” was truly sublime.
Had Su Jie not already suffered a loss at Tang Jin’s hands earlier, he might have been fooled once again. But now things were different. Ignoring the deceptive glances, Su Jie bent his body low, tucking his shoulders inward and compressing his body toward the center. Wrapped up tight, he seemed to transform into the very edge of a blade, poised along the enemy’s midline and ready to strike.
This was the result of a month’s worth of insights. He had incorporated the “Centerline Theory” of Wing Chun, referenced the ancient boxing manual’s saying “With the feet on the middle gate, even immortals are hard to defend against,” and studied many of the slashing techniques from Japanese kendo. After experimenting with these methods on Hua Xing, he was ready to test his skills.
“What is this? Kendo?” Hua Xing frowned.
Whoosh!
Su Jie had already lunged forward. His attack was directed along Hua Xing’s centerline—what traditional Chinese medicine calls the “Ren meridian.” The Ren meridian runs down the front center of the body, while the Du meridian runs along the back. Together, the Ren and Du meridians form a three-dimensional ellipse that envelops the human body.
Su Jie turned himself into a blade, cutting into the Ren meridian with a force akin to splitting mountains and parting rivers as he attacked Hua Xing. After a month of relentless practice and contemplation, he had never before engaged in actual combat. Now that he finally had an opponent, all his pent-up emotions were released in a move that felt as earth-shattering as a collapsing world.
It was as if the Monkey King, trapped beneath the Five Elements Mountain for five hundred years, had broken free—unstoppable.
Boom!
Hua Xing hadn’t expected Su Jie to attack with such ferocity. In one swift move, his instincts kicked in, and his hands shielded the vulnerable center. By that time, Su Jie’s strength had already taken hold of him. It was as if he’d been hit by a speeding car; Hua Xing was propelled to the edge of the ring, his body halted by the ropes. But the ropes couldn’t withstand such power—they snapped outright, sending him tumbling from the ring.
“What a pity.”
Standing in the ring, Su Jie wasn’t overjoyed by having sent Hua Xing flying. On the contrary, he recognized his own shortcomings.
According to the principles of mechanics, with that one powerful strike, all his strength should have pinned his opponent in place. Yet Hua Xing had managed to escape; although he was knocked off the ring, he remained uninjured.
In a street fight, this would mean his opponent could continue fighting, leaving the outcome uncertain.
Sure enough, Hua Xing shook his arms once he was off the ring and said, “Such great power—impressive, impressive. Let’s go again.”
“Alright.”
Su Jie was eager for another round. A formidable opponent was exactly what he craved.
Hua Xing leaped back into the ring, and once again the two clashed.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
This time, Hua Xing took the initiative. His body moved with agility; his speed had increased as he swayed from side to side and struck forcefully from above and below, reminiscent of an elaborate fencing duel. This fighting style was known as the “Pirate Style.”
Su Jie, too, was moving, matching Hua Xing’s steps. As they circled each other, their punches and kicks were probing, with no intense, tangled skirmishes taking shape.
Now Hua Xing’s true skill began to show. Though he was a retired national-level athlete, and his combat prowess might not match that of the active top-tier fighters, his fundamentals were strong enough to quickly overpower many professional experts.
At the beginning, Hua Xing had been a bit careless, not fully concentrating. But after suffering a setback, he became completely focused, treating the bout with Su Jie as if it were a national championship match. Once he got serious, it was nearly impossible for Su Jie to land a finishing blow.
Occasionally, Hua Xing’s strikes even landed on Su Jie. For a national-level fighter, even a light touch from such powerful punches and kicks would be unbearable for an ordinary person, not to mention full-force blows. Yet every time Hua Xing’s strikes connected, they seemed to hit stone, and even his own limbs began to ache. In contrast, when Su Jie landed a hit on him, it carried a penetrating force that made even Hua Xing’s bones and teeth feel numb.
“Enough, let’s stop.”
Even though the fight was still undecided, Hua Xing suddenly pulled back and gestured for a break.
“Hmm? Need a rest?”
Su Jie was just getting excited by the bout, so he felt a tinge of disappointment when his opponent halted the fight.
“Have you had special agent-level anti-strike training?” Hua Xing asked. “Your ability to withstand blows has already surpassed some of the limits of the national team.”
“Something like that.”
Su Jie nodded. “How about we go again?”
“Not today. I’ve got other matters to attend to. Come by again sometime.”
Hua Xing felt that if the fight continued, his chances of victory might dwindle further. A loss could tarnish his reputation, perhaps even cost him his job.
‘If I had fought this kid at my peak, I believe I could have won. But now, this kid is fearless like a newborn calf, and my condition has declined. I still have a chance, but it isn’t high,’ Hua Xing admitted in his heart.
Su Jie noticed Hua Xing’s hesitation and understood. Smiling, he said, “Coach Hua Xing, you really gave me plenty of chances this time. In terms of experience, I’m nowhere near you. When I get the chance, I’d like to learn more from you.”
He wasn’t just offering polite words. Hua Xing was a retired national-level member with far more experience and had spent years coaching, mastering even the subtlest combat techniques.
Even if Su Jie was strong, his understanding was still superficial, and he knew he needed to exchange insights with seasoned veterans rather than letting his abilities go to his head.
Author’s Words: Some readers have questioned how Su Jie managed to score so high and finish his exam in just over ten minutes. In truth, back in my school days, I really did know a top student like that. Su Jie’s experience is similar to that of a classmate of mine. When I was in junior high, there was a classmate who always ranked in the middle among over fifty students—usually around the 20s or 30s. But after one winter break, his grades shot up and he consistently came first. Truly, underachievers can never imagine just how strong top students are. You can think of Su Jie as even more formidable than those astonishing prodigies on the “The Brain (最强大脑)” show. Take physical training, for example—when I do a plank, I can manage only three to five minutes, while the world record is eight hours. I just can’t comprehend it.