Chapter 154: Contest

Perhaps in Long Fei's eyes, once a fight was about to begin, the most important thing was to catch the opponent off guard and knock them down first. As for those noble and magnanimous gestures of yielding by three paces, he never bothered with them.

Bai Yaowu was momentarily startled. He truly hadn't expected Long Fei to be so despicable as to launch a sudden attack while he was unprepared. Fortunately, his martial arts were indeed extraordinary; with a swift shift of his body, he glided backward a few feet like a feather, narrowly dodging Long Fei's punch, and then unleashed a lightning-fast sweeping low kick targeting Long Fei's lower stance.

When the initial strike failed, Long Fei immediately withdrew his hand and stepped back, precisely evading Bai Yaowu's lightning-fast kick. He chuckled and said, "Well, quite a nimble reaction. Not bad."

"Your moves are pretty sneaky too. Haha, come on." Bai Yaowu shook his head, casting a disdainful glance at Long Fei. Having already raised his guard this time, he no longer feared a sudden assault from Long Fei.

Under normal circumstances, Long Fei would not use the same move twice, so this time he decided to put on a generous facade. He waved his hand and smiled, "You make the first move. Don't say I'm taking advantage of you, hehe."

Bai Yaowu stood on no further ceremony, unleashing a lightning-fast barrage of three punches and fourteen kicks. Every single move whistled through the air, demonstrating immense and formidable power. Long Fei did not counter-attack; instead, he simply relied on blind evasion. Yet every dodge was executed with absolute precision—looking perilous, yet remaining entirely free of real danger.

Ye Qian watched with her heart pounding against her ribs. She had personally witnessed Bai Yaowu's prowess before, but in her view, Long Fei was equally a master among masters. Why, then, was he being forced step by step backward by Bai Yaowu? Concern began to build within her, and keeping her eyes fixed on the ring, she asked Gouzi, "Hey, Long Fei isn't going to lose, is he?"

"Lose? If Brother Fei were that easy to lose, he wouldn't be—forget it, even if I told you, you wouldn't understand." Gouzi cut himself off promptly, wearing a very relaxed smile.

With a simple, honest grin, Tieniu didn't even turn his head, yet he said with exceptional earnestness and unshakable confidence, "Brother Fei won't lose. He has never lost."

Knowing that Tieniu's adoration for Long Fei was etched into his very soul, Ye Qian chose to ignore his remark and continued questioning Gouzi, "Then why isn't he striking back? It's driving me crazy!"

Too lazy to explain to Ye Qian, Gouzi knew she wouldn't comprehend anyway.

Ye Qian, Gouzi, and Tieniu were seated in the north grandstand. Yang Batian and Wen Hua occupied the east grandstand, while Liu Xianrong, accompanied by Huang Tang and Wang Ji, sat in the west grandstand.

A flicker of strange emotion crossed Yang Batian's eyes. He knew Bai Yaowu's martial arts were formidable and had sparred with him in the past, but he truly hadn't expected that Bai Yaowu had been concealing his true strength all along. Judging by the current situation and comparing it to his own previous bouts with Long Fei, Yang Batian suddenly realized he was certainly no match for Bai Yaowu. Thinking that he had once proudly claimed to be invincible across Yanjing, he now saw that such a reputation was truly unearned.

In truth, Yang Batian possessed a fair amount of self-awareness. Previously, he believed that although Yanjing had many experts, they were limited to that true crown prince of the Yan family, while everyone else was utterly vulnerable. But now, his perspective had shifted. A sense of disappointment washed over him, but even more so, a burning fighting spirit ignited within his chest. He resolved to challenge Bai Yaowu to another sparring session another day. A fight was a fight; true progress could only be made through the process of combat itself. As for winning or losing, that was not the most important thing to him.

Long Fei had been forced into a corner with nowhere left to retreat. With no room to maneuver, Bai Yaowu suddenly doubled the frequency of his attacks. In the nearby grandstand, Liu Xianrong smiled and nodded slightly. Suddenly accelerating the tempo at this juncture would undoubtedly impose overwhelming pressure on Long Fei and offered a distinct possibility of winning by a surprise maneuver.

Yet, he had underestimated Long Fei's true strength. The moment Bai Yaowu accelerated his pace, Long Fei's tempo abruptly matched it. The movements of the two men accelerated to the absolute limit. Ye Qian, Huang Tang, Wang Ji, and Wen Hua could barely trace their motions; all they saw were two intertwined blurred afterimages. Everyone's jaws dropped in astonishment. They had witnessed plenty of fights before, including genuine martial arts duels and underground boxing matches, but they had never imagined that human movements could possibly be this fast. It completely shattered their imaginations.

With a loud crash, Long Fei and Bai Yaowu seemed to have exchanged positions. The distance between them was now at least five meters, and neither threw any further punches. They simply stood there, staring quietly at each other as if no clash had ever taken place. The scene fell into absolute silence; the dropping of a single pin to the floor could have been heard with crystal clarity.

Liu Xianrong, who had been smiling just a moment ago, now furrowed his brow slightly. Others might not have caught it, but he had seen it clearly. Long Fei had indeed struck just then. Utilizing an exquisite and marvelous footwork to slip outside Bai Yaowu's attacking range, he had glided like a shadow directly behind Bai Yaowu, and then silently delivered a single punch. Although Bai Yaowu had managed to spin around in time to block the blow with his own fist, it was plainly evident that Long Fei had gained the upper hand.

Up to this point, neither of them had utilized inner Qi; this was a contest of pure physical strength.

Long Fei wore a bizarre smile as he stared at Bai Yaowu. The latter gazed back with a solemn expression, his brows slightly knitted as if weighing a crucial decision.

"No need to think about it. Either unleash your full strength, or continue hiding it. Of course, if you choose to conceal it, you'll simply have to concede defeat. Young Master Bai of Yanjing, you're a renowned figure; surely you wouldn't act like a coward, would you?" Long Fei goaded.

Bai Yaowu certainly would not act like a coward. The Bai family had never produced cowards. Even in death, they would fall upon the battlefield of a charge rather than live as pathetic deserters. These were the words his grandfather had taught him since childhood, words he had etched into his heart and adopted as his personal motto.

"Rest assured, the Bai family only has heroes defeated in battle, never cowards who surrender without a fight! Since you are so eager for me to unleash my full strength, if I failed to grant your wish, wouldn't that leave you far too disappointed?!" Bai Yaowu's brow unfurled, and a sudden piercing brilliance flashed in his eyes.

Long Fei nodded, adopting an equally serious expression. "As long as you give it your all, even if you lose, you are a hero. I respect heroes. Come on!"

Bai Yaowu's expression suddenly turned solemn. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he circulated his breath, and a powerful surge of true Qi immediately began to flow through his body. The aura radiating from his entire being instantly transformed, prompting Long Fei to nod involuntarily—this was the true Bai Yaowu.

In Long Fei's view, fighting without true Qi, while visually pleasing, lacked any real lethality.

As for Yang Batian in the stands, he shuddered and weakly shook his head. Only now did he realize that Bai Yaowu's martial prowess was something he could never hope to surpass; that fact was made abundantly clear by this aura alone.

Long Fei did not dare to be negligent. To be honest, since embarking on his journey, he had rarely encountered any decent opponents. Although Bai Yaowu could not be classified as exceptionally formidable, he was certainly strong enough to warrant Long Fei's complete respect.

In a mere fraction of a second, Long Fei's aura also shifted. This, however, was within Yang Batian's expectations; though astonished, he could only shake his head and sigh. He simply could not fathom why, despite all the years of arduous training he had put in, the gap between himself and others remained so vast.

Bai Yaowu launched his attack once more. His entire body shot forward like an arrow released from a drawn bow, moving several times faster than his previous speed. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Long Fei, unleashing a relentless chain of five palms, eight fists, and twelve kicks. Long Fei's movements were even faster, drifting across the fighting ring like a wisp of light smoke. He still did not counter-attack, but the fervor in his eyes grew increasingly intense.

A duel between genuine masters, while intensely perilous, was equally spine-tingling and exhilarating. That was precisely how Long Fei felt at this moment.

Bai Yaowu's initial wave of fierce attacks reached its conclusion. Once momentum was spent and a breath was exhaled, a transitional buffer period inevitably followed—a principle understood by every martial artist. Therefore, if one chose not to use inner Qi, so be it; but once inner Qi was applied to an offensive, the goal was always a fatal strike, or at least visible results by the end of the initial barrage.

Yet for a master like Bai Yaowu, though this buffer period could not be entirely avoided, it was vastly shorter than that of ordinary martial artists. No matter how brief the interval, however, it still required time. Even if it took merely the blink of an eye, to Long Fei, that fleeting moment represented the most crucial and optimal opportunity to counter-attack.

Naturally, Long Fei had no intention of letting such an opportunity slip by, just as he would never let pass any chance to launch a surprise attack. Long Fei finally struck—no, he kicked. In a flash, he delivered thirteen kicks, accompanied by three punches and nine palms overflowing with forceful Qi, launching them in a continuous, unbroken chain. His entire body spun and flew right in front of Bai Yaowu without ever touching the ground.

Bai Yaowu defended with all his might, but Long Fei's offensive momentum was even more ferocious, surpassing his own by a margin. Furthermore, while Long Fei's techniques appeared simple, every single one was lethal, brimming with cunning deception. It seemed as though every move was a feint, every move a trap, yet every move was simultaneously a killing blow.

Both men moved at speeds that bordered on the impossible. To the spectators outside the ring, it looked as though two blurred afterimages were chasing each other, punctuated by the popping sounds of colliding internal energy.

Finally, the two figures separated once more, standing five meters apart just as before. Long Fei smiled and refrained from pouncing forward again, while Bai Yaowu's complexion turned somewhat grim. During that last wave of assault, he had managed to evade or block almost everything; yet at the very end, Long Fei had played a small practical joke on him. What appeared to be a single movement had suddenly split into two: the lower body executed a vicious groin-crushing kick, while a single finger pointed straight at his throat from above.

The groin-crushing kick.

One of Long Fei's signature and most practiced killing maneuvers.

Tricky, bizarre, and ruthlessly vicious.

Bai Yaowu had no desire to become a eunuch, so he was forced to dodge that fatal kick from below. Once his lower body evaded the blow, his upper body could no longer completely avoid the follow-up. Though he managed to successfully twist his body, dodging the throat only meant failing to clear the shoulder. A burning, searing pain in his left shoulder rendered his entire arm virtually immobile. Fortunately, Long Fei seemed to have deliberately held back his strength; otherwise, that arm truly would have been permanently crippled.

"The Dragon-Singing Art!" Bai Yaowu finally found an opportunity to speak.

"Correct. But I never expected you to cultivate the Dragon-Singing Art all the way to the eighth layer. What a pity—had you reached the ninth layer, the outcome might not have been quite like this. Or, to put it another way, had you been a bit smarter and not rushed to attack first, the result might not have been this way either," Long Fei said very earnestly.

Bai Yaowu naturally understood that his defeat stemmed primarily from a strategic miscalculation. Yet he was even more certain that even if he had exercised extreme caution from the very beginning, the ultimate outcome would not have changed in the slightest. The only thing that would have been different was the amount of time the process required.

Martial arts brook no falsehoods. In a contest between true masters, while numerous factors influence victory, the fundamental level of one's martial prowess remains the absolute core and deciding factor. Other elements could sway the flow of battle, but they could not dictate its final conclusion.

"Win or lose, I've been defeated!" Bai Yaowu didn't appear disheartened by his loss. Instead, he offered a faint smile, walked past Long Fei, parted the retaining ropes, and stepped out of the ring. Liu Xianrong hurried over to greet him.

"Yaowu, are you alright?" Perhaps only he, Tieniu, and Gouzi were able to see clearly what had just transpired in the ring. Aside from Yang Batian, everyone else present was entirely oblivious to what the two fighters had been doing. Why had it ended just like that while they were still in the thick of combat? No one had hit the floor, no blood had been shed, and that final round of exchanges between Long Fei and Bai Yaowu had simply been too fast—far too fast for these onlookers to possibly catch.

Bai Yaowu smiled faintly, his left hand trembling slightly, and forced a laugh. "I'm fine."

Turning back around, Bai Yaowu put on an expression of deep guilt and said to Huang Tang, "Huang Tang, I truly am sorry. I gave it everything I had, but... I still lost."

Huang Tang's face instantly turned pale white, though a flicker of gratitude flashed in his eyes, deepening his respect for Bai Yaowu. In his view, today he had not only witnessed legendary martial arts masters in action, but he had also witnessed Bai Yaowu's brotherly loyalty. Even though he lost, Bai Yaowu had done his absolute best. Of course, he could never understand that Bai Yaowu's reason for fighting Long Fei had nothing to do with him.

"Thank you. A bet is a bet, and I accept the outcome," Huang Tang nodded helplessly.

"Hey, Long Fei, are you alright?" Ye Qian was the first to rush over to Long Fei, patting him here and probing him there to check if he had suffered any injuries.

Long Fei chuckled. "I was fine, but if you keep poking me like that, I'm afraid I won't be."

"Long Fei, man, I'm completely won over by you guys. So martial arts actually exist in this world! If I'm not mistaken, you two used legendary internal Qi just now, didn't you?" A trace of excitement flashed in Yang Batian's eyes.

Nodding, Long Fei made no attempt to conceal it. "That's right, hehe. What, do you want to learn? I can teach you another day."

"Really?" Yang Batian was overjoyed.

"Fake," Long Fei shot Yang Batian a sideways glance. Seeing the latter's expression immediately sour, Long Fei then smiled and said, "It's not that I won't teach you, but the internal Qi I practice requires one to cultivate it while still maintaining their virgin purity. If you're still a virgin, you can practice it; otherwise, it's useless even if I teach you."

Yang Batian felt like crying; he had lost his virginity at the age of thirteen.

"Hey, Long Fei, who won and who lost in the end?" Ye Qian asked with burning curiosity.

Long Fei was stunned. "You didn't know?"

"You two were spinning around up there like a pair of ghost shadows; I couldn't see a thing," Ye Qian complained.

Before Long Fei could reply, Bai Yaowu and his group approached them. Walking at the very front was Huang Tang. Approaching Gouzi, Huang Tang took a slight breath and actually addressed him, "Master Gou."

Ye Qian's eyes widened in realization. That answer required no further explanation from Long Fei.

***

A certain villa in the western district of Yanjing.

Study.

A middle-aged man of about fifty furrowed his brows deeply. Though dressed simply, he radiated an unforced authority. The faint wrinkles on his forehead and the strands of gray hair seemed somewhat out of sync with his age, instantly revealing that he had endured the merciless baptism of passing years.

Gazing at the handsome young man standing before him, the middle-aged man remained silent in deep contemplation for a long while before finally speaking, "Qing'er, are you certain the ring he wore was the Azure Dragon Ring?"

"I believe so. Although Yaowu had never laid eyes on the Azure Dragon Ring before either, he wouldn't mistake it. Besides, Uncle Liu was also present at the scene," the handsome young man replied respectfully.

Although no one in Yanjing dared not show him a measure of respect, and everyone felt compelled to address him deferentially as the Crown Prince, standing before this man who was both mentor and father figure, Yan Qing always felt an oppressive weight—the sensation of facing a towering peak that inspired awe, an insurmountable mountain that left him struggling to draw breath.

This middle-aged man was Yan Qing's adoptive father, the one who had taught him martial arts since childhood. The middle-aged man rarely stepped outside his gates and held no official position. Aside from practicing his martial arts, his usual leisure activities consisted of little more than angling for fish by a small river. Yet this did nothing to diminish his formidable prestige. Others might not know, but Yan Qing understood his adoptive father all too well. To have survived the great war of twenty years ago was already an extraordinary feat. Anyone over the age of forty with any status in Yanjing knew of him—he was the former Crown Prince of Yanjing, Qin Tianzhu, widely known as Master Qin.

Seeing that Qin Tianzhu remained silent, Yan Qing continued, "Furthermore, Yaowu had a bout with him."

"Oh? What was the outcome?" Qin Tianzhu raised his head, his gaze sharp.

Not daring to meet his eyes, Yan Qing spoke heavily, "Yaowu lost. And according to him, this Long Fei was still holding back. If Yaowu's estimation is correct, Long Fei's Dragon-Singing Art must have already reached at least the ninth layer."

"I know Yaowu's strength. Diligent though he is, he can only reach the eighth layer at best. To defeat him, one must have attained the ninth layer or even higher. Since he knows the Dragon-Singing Art, the ring he wears is undoubtedly the Azure Dragon Ring. It seems that after waiting twenty years, I have finally waited for their return." To Yan Qing's surprise, Qin Tianzhu showed no signs of worry or tension; instead, he exuded a sense of ease.

Yan Qing was startled. "Adoptive father, are you saying the Dragon-Singing Art has a tenth layer?"

"Yes, of course it does," Qin Tianzhu replied.

"But didn't you say three years ago that I had already reached the peak?" Yan Qing asked, puzzled.

"True, that is what I told you three years ago when you reached the ninth layer, and indeed, that had already pushed you to your absolute limit. However, the Dragon-Singing Art truly does possess a tenth layer. It's just that the state of the tenth layer is not something ordinary people can hope to cultivate; it places unique demands on the practitioner's constitution. Although you are a once-in-a-century martial arts prodigy, what a pity—what a pity," Qin Tianzhu shook his head.

Even more perplexed, Yan Qing asked, "I don't understand, adoptive father. Is my talent lacking?"

"Not at all. As I said, you are a prodigy of martial arts; it's simply that the tenth layer of the realm requires a specific physical structure from the practitioner. To put it another way, the practitioner must possess a Pure Yang Constitution. Ordinary people possess seven meridians and eight vessels, whereas a person with a Pure Yang Constitution possesses seven meridians and nine vessels—an extra meridian compared to most. That is why I said you could never cultivate the tenth layer," Qin Tianzhu explained with a faint smile.