Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Duel

"Xiao Lin, are you sure you want to go by yourself? Let us come with you, that way we can watch out for each other," Xu Tong said anxiously when he saw Xiao Lin was heading to the taekwondo gym alone. School was already over by now; Wang Yuqing and Tan Linlin had gone home. The matter of Xiao Lin's duel with Gao Zheng wasn't mentioned to the two girls—actually, hardly anyone in the entire school knew about it. Gao Zheng hadn’t spread the word, nor had Xiao Lin. This was a matter between men, best kept private, not something to be paraded around the school.

"Yeah, Xiao Lin, just let us come along," Wang Tao chimed in. "We may not be great fighters, but we can still help you out." Lin Xudong echoed his agreement.

"Exactly! I’ve never liked that pretty boy Gao Zheng anyway," added Yuan Weiye, who was usually timid but now insisted on tagging along to help.

Hearing his friends' words, Xiao Lin was quietly moved. "Thank you for your kindness, but as for Gao Zheng, I can handle him. Just wait here for my good news." At that moment, Xiao Lin waved his hand with heroic confidence.

"But..." Xu Tong still felt uneasy about letting Xiao Lin go alone.

"Say no more. It’s settled." Xiao Lin cut him off before he could finish.

Xu Tong opened his mouth, then finally said nothing. They all knew Xiao Lin’s temperament; once he made up his mind, there was little anyone could do to change it. If only Wang Yuqing were here—maybe she was the only one whose words could reach him, Xu Tong thought to himself. But, he knew, something like this was best kept from Wang Yuqing.

"All right, I’m off," Xiao Lin said with a flourish, turning and striding out of the classroom, leaving his friends behind, worried.

The Longteng Taekwondo Gym was the most prestigious taekwondo school near Chuangxin High, with a never-ending stream of enrollees every year. Gao Zheng practiced taekwondo, but he didn’t train with the regular students; he had a private Korean black belt master instructing him. This gym was actually run by a student of that Korean master, so Gao Zheng often came here to practice. Strictly speaking, he was considered the gym owner’s junior.

"Junior, you’re going to duel with a student from your school. Do you need your senior’s help?" asked a middle-aged man with a square face and a handlebar mustache. He was the owner of the Longteng Taekwondo Gym, in his thirties, yet he called Gao Zheng "junior," which sounded odd, but he didn’t mind. After all, Gao Zheng was no ordinary person; the man had his reasons to curry favor.

"No need. I’ll handle my own affairs," Gao Zheng replied coolly, sitting cross-legged on the mat. He wore a crisp white taekwondo uniform and a black belt denoting his eighth dan rank. He looked vigorous and imposing.

Hearing Gao Zheng’s reply, the man forced a couple of laughs and said no more. In his view, with Gao Zheng’s skills, dealing with a student was a piece of cake. His earlier offer was just a gesture to strengthen their relationship.

Xiao Lin gazed at the grand, imposing gym before him and gave a faint smile. To him, this Korean martial art was no match for Chinese martial arts. He was fully confident in defeating Gao Zheng.

Zhao Mingliang had been waiting at the entrance. When he saw Xiao Lin, he strode over with deliberate slowness and an arrogant tone. "Well, you’ve really got guts, coming here alone. Come on, let’s go in—my young master’s been waiting for you a long time."

Xiao Lin’s eyes flashed at Zhao Mingliang’s words. He said nothing, too indifferent to waste words on someone like him—a mere lackey.

Seeing Xiao Lin remain silent made Zhao Mingliang even more smug. Hmph, daring to compete with my young master over a girl—soon you’ll be crawling out of here. He swaggered ahead, waddling like a skinny penguin, looking utterly ridiculous.

They entered the gym, and before long, Zhao Mingliang led Xiao Lin into a room on the second floor. This was not the usual training room for students, but the space reserved for instructors' practice—about the size of three classrooms put together. This was where Gao Zheng intended to face Xiao Lin.

Xiao Lin immediately spotted Gao Zheng sitting cross-legged not far away, with a middle-aged man standing beside him. Xiao Lin’s eyes narrowed—Gao Zheng had brought backup. The man’s athletic build, thick arms, and taut calves made his clothes bulge; he was clearly an expert. Looks like this will be a tough fight, Xiao Lin thought.

Seeing Xiao Lin enter, Gao Zheng slowly got to his feet and said blandly, "You came. I thought you’d be too scared. Not bad—at least you’ve got some nerve."

"Heh, how could I refuse an invitation from Young Master Gao?" Xiao Lin answered with a light chuckle.

"Enough. You two leave. This is between the two of us. No matter what happens, do not come in," Gao Zheng ordered the middle-aged man and Zhao Mingliang.

Zhao Mingliang quickly agreed. The man gave Xiao Lin a measuring look, grinned, then left without a word. Zhao Mingliang closed the door behind him. Now only Gao Zheng and Xiao Lin remained in the room.

With the man gone, Xiao Lin was a little surprised—he hadn’t expected Gao Zheng to intend a one-on-one duel. For that, Xiao Lin felt a measure of respect. Whatever else could be said, in this, Gao Zheng was acting like a real man.

"We won’t use any protective gear. You have no objection?" Gao Zheng stared directly at Xiao Lin.

"That’s fine," Xiao Lin replied with a faint smile. Clearly, Gao Zheng intended to seriously injure him by fighting without protection. But Xiao Lin also wanted to give Gao Zheng a taste of his own medicine—maybe that way he’d stop bothering Yuqing once and for all.

"Good, let’s begin. No matter who ends up in the hospital, if Wang Yuqing asks, we both say it was from a fall," Gao Zheng said, stepping forward until only five paces separated them.

"No problem," Xiao Lin replied, unconcerned. He shrugged off his jacket, leaving only a black sweater on top and black athletic pants below, his whole figure radiating energy. He shook out his arms and loosened his ankles.

"Let’s begin."

Gao Zheng gave a slight bow, showing respect, then adopted a standard taekwondo ready stance: feet shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed at his sides. He stepped forward with his right foot, body angled sideways to Xiao Lin, fists half-clenched, elbows bent, knees slightly flexed, eyes fixed level on Xiao Lin’s face, chin tucked.

Seeing Gao Zheng's stance, Xiao Lin felt a touch of disdain. He’d heard that taekwondo was all show—good for tournaments, not much use in real combat. Even the black belt around Gao Zheng’s waist didn’t alter his opinion.

"Come on," Xiao Lin beckoned.

Gao Zheng noticed Xiao Lin hadn’t adopted any stance and sneered inwardly. Soon you’ll be crying. He broke into a run, and when he was just two strides away, his left foot stepped diagonally across in front of his right, turning inward as it landed. Suddenly his body spun 180 degrees to the right; as his left foot touched down, his right leg whipped around, body completing a full 360-degree spin. At the same moment, his left foot pushed off the ground, sending him leaping into the air, driving a spinning left kick straight at Xiao Lin’s head. It all happened in a flash—before Xiao Lin could react, he was forced to raise his arms to block, the impact knocking him back several steps, nearly losing his balance. His arms were instantly numb from the blow, the force of the kick reverberating through his bones. Gao Zheng’s whirling kick was a high-level technique, explosive and precise.

Feeling the numbness in his arms, Xiao Lin was inwardly shocked. Gao Zheng’s kicks packed serious power—he could barely withstand the force. This must be the famous tornado kick of taekwondo, a difficult move to execute. Xiao Lin finally dropped his earlier contempt.