Chen Chuan looked at his opponent. Because this was not an ordinary training session, he decided to draw upon the power of his Second Self to protect himself from injury and secure victory in the match.
Thanks to his progress over the past several days, the overlap duration he could maintain had increased once again, now lasting roughly fifty-five seconds.
This duration was not fixed. If he took hits and used the Second Self to transfer away the damage and pain, the overlap time would shrink accordingly.
Therefore, he had to end the fight as quickly as possible.
The longer it dragged on, the lower his chances of winning.
By now, he had already devised a tactic in his mind.
Ding Shuo stared at Chen Chuan for a moment. He could tell from his breathing that Chen Chuan was also someone who had mastered a breathing technique, and he tapped his fists together in mild excitement.
Finally, an opponent worth watching had shown up. Now he could show off what he had in front of Mr. Qi.
After both sides clasped their fists in salute, Ding Shuo remained the aggressor. Shifting his footwork forward, he thrust a punch straight toward Chen Chuan's face.
Chen Chuan did not dodge at all; instead, he met it head-on with a high roundhouse kick!
This was the very move he had used to kick down Shan Xiong during the entrance exam, so he had practiced it with exceptional diligence. The instant the kick whipped out, his Second Self merged with him. With a sudden gust, the grass stems beneath his feet flew up into the air.
This kick was astonishingly fast, striking after Ding Shuo moved yet arriving first. Ding Shuo's pupils shrank. Fortunately, he had remembered to guard his head even while attacking, contracting his arm muscles just in time. With a loud smack, the immense force kicked him reeling a few steps sideways, and he could not help but shake out his stinging arm.
Landing the kick, Chen Chuan did not let the opportunity slip, pressing forward immediately. Ding Shuo was not one to stay on the defensive; refusing to show weakness, he tried to trade blows. But Chen Chuan launched another kick, whipping up a fierce gust of wind that once again cut short Ding Shuo's counter. Parrying in haste, Ding Shuo was knocked off balance and staggered to the side, looking somewhat disheveled.
Those watching suddenly felt a sense of familiarity. Wasn't this an exact mirror image of Ding Shuo beating Lu Ke moments ago? Only the roles were now reversed.
Surprise appeared on Mr. Qi's face. Tilting his head toward the burly middle-aged man behind him, he said, "This young fellow is quite formidable."
The burly man said, "His footwork and power delivery look decent on the surface, but they're still rather unpolished, and his muscular coordination hasn't fully taken shape yet. He couldn't have been studying for long. But he has great strength, fast speed, sharp reflexes, and knows the basic breathing technique—pure natural talent. As long as this young fellow's stamina holds out, it'll be very hard for Ding Shuo to win."
Mr. Qi smiled. "Is that so? A talented young man indeed." From his tone, he did not seem the least bit worried that Ding Shuo might lose the fight.
Ding Shuo hated being suppressed like this. He tried to counterattack several times, but none succeeded. Once, he even let his guard slip and caught a kick to his flank from Chen Chuan. The pain made him grimace. No matter how stubborn he was, he knew he couldn't overpower Chen Chuan head-on. He had no choice but to stay on the defensive, waiting for Chen Chuan to leave an opening during an attack or run out of stamina before launching his counter.
Under his relentless barrage of kicks, Chen Chuan noticed that Ding Shuo's attention was almost entirely fixed on defending against his low and high kicks. Sensing that the time was ripe, he raised his knee slightly, making it look as though he were about to throw another kick. Ding Shuo instinctively raised his hand to block, but at that moment, Chen Chuan suddenly ducked low, thrusting both hands forward in a shooting posture.
Ding Shuo jolted, realizing something was wrong. Chen Chuan's earlier kicks had surely been meant to condition his reflexes; the true objective was to win with a takedown. It was already too late for him to drop his center of gravity. Yet he quickly discovered, to his delight, that Chen Chuan seemed to have fumbled the transition between movements, leaving him half a beat behind the proper rhythm.
An opening!
At times, physical instinct outran conscious thought. Rather than leaping back to lower his center of gravity, Ding Shuo drove a knee strike straight toward Chen Chuan's head.
Yet Chen Chuan surged forward, meeting it with his forehead. That knee strike packed tremendous force—against anyone else, the fight would have been over then and there. But with the damage transferred away by the Second Self, Chen Chuan's body did not even wobble. His rear fist, having stored its power, blasted outward and slammed squarely into Ding Shuo's face!
Ding Shuo let out a muffled grunt. His vision went black, and his nose turned sharply sore. If not for his well-developed neck muscles and the impact resistance granted by his breathing technique, that single punch might have put him down.
Having landed the blow, Chen Chuan did not pause. He pushed off the ground, raising both hands in an attempt to hook around Ding Shuo's neck while lifting a knee from below—clearly intending to deliver a devastating plum-clinch knee strike.
With his vision blurred, Ding Shuo could not see clearly, yet his experience alerted him to the impending danger. Every hair on his body stood on end. With a sharp "Hah!", he expelled a short, forceful breath from his chest while flinging both hands outward. In that split second, it was as if an explosion of air erupted around him!
Before Chen Chuan's hands could clasp shut, he felt them forced apart by a burst of immense power!
Seeing this, Yu Gang thought to himself, *Hm, "Robe-Casting Jin"...?*
With his hands forced open, Chen Chuan lost his leverage, and his rising knee strike lost its power, causing his movement to stall.
After unleashing that move, Ding Shuo was unable to follow up with an immediate attack either. Fearing Chen Chuan might press in again, he scrambled backward in haste to put distance between them.
He drew several deep breaths, then couldn't help stealing a few glances at Chen Chuan standing not far away, bewildered and alarmed by how Chen Chuan looked completely unfazed after taking such a blow. Just then, he felt warmth trickling down his nose. He wiped it, and fresh blood smeared across his fingers, instantly stoking a flare of rage within him.
In truth, rather than the pain, what mortified him was losing face in front of Mr. Qi.
Chen Chuan was also looking at Ding Shuo. He hadn't expected the man to possess such an unusual method of generating force. More importantly, he had put his full strength into that punch earlier. Against someone like Lu Ke, it would have been an absolute knockout. Yet aside from a bloodied nose, this man seemed practically unaffected, still lively and brimming with vigor. Even the nosebleed stopped shortly after starting. This level of resilience and impact absorption was truly absurd.
Thoughts raced through Chen Chuan's mind as he pondered how to proceed.
Although the Second Self had mostly been merged only when delivering attacks, roughly fifteen seconds had already elapsed. Furthermore, absorbing that knee strike had shaved off another five or six seconds of overlap time by his estimate. Just like that, a third of his available time was gone.
With how durable this opponent was, Chen Chuan doubted that even landing several more clean hits would necessarily incapacitate him.
Fortunately, this was neither an arena tournament nor a fight to the death. Winning didn't strictly require knocking the opponent unconscious. There was an angle he could exploit here...
He quickly settled on a tactic and drew a deep breath.
Ding Shuo instantly turned vigilant. For someone who practiced a breathing technique, a sudden change in breathing rhythm while still possessing abundant stamina was very likely the prelude to an explosive offensive burst.
Chen Chuan planted his foot and surged forward. This sprint was blindingly fast—one moment he seemed far away, and the next he was right in front of Ding Shuo, his fists and kicks raining down like a torrential storm.
Ding Shuo scrambled to evade and parry. He felt the blows pelting his body like hailstones, yet he gritted his teeth and endured.
Moreover, had anyone looked closely, they would have seen that the red marks blooming on his skin faded back to normal after just a breath or two.
Mr. Qi watched without blinking. Even though he was no martial artist himself, he could tell that the turning point of the match would arrive as soon as Chen Chuan's onslaught came to an end.
After attacking relentlessly for over ten seconds, Chen Chuan drove a straight punch along the centerline. The blow did not seem particularly heavy, but as he drew his hand back, he snapped his grip onto Ding Shuo's wrist and yanked backward, throwing Ding Shuo completely off balance.
Anyone who knew the craft would recognize this as the "Hook-and-Grasp Hand" from Greater Sanshou, designed specifically to disrupt balance and pull an opponent off kilter.
Dragged forward, Ding Shuo scrambled to exert force and shake off the grip. Yet all of Chen Chuan's previous punches and kicks had merely been groundwork laid to engineer this very opening. In the exact moment of the pull, Chen Chuan advanced and drove his hand forward in a Tray-Lifting Palm, smashing the heel of his palm directly against Ding Shuo's chin.
Ding Shuo's reflexes were remarkably swift, however. Just before impact, he pressed four fingers down onto the crook of Chen Chuan's elbow, blunting the full release of force. Even so, the residual power jerked his head upward.
At that exact instant, Chen Chuan took a sudden backward step. As he pulled his hand back, his five fingers curled together, lightly grazing past Ding Shuo's throat. He then actively retreated to a safe distance, lowered his guard, and turned his gaze toward Mr. Qi and his men.
Seeing his actions, Ding Shuo was dumbfounded, complaining indignantly, "What's that supposed to mean? We're not done yet!"
The burly middle-aged man whispered a few words into Mr. Qi's ear. Mr. Qi gave a slight nod, then looked toward Yu Gang. "Teacher Yu, we have lost."
Ding Shuo froze. Looking at the burly man, he suppressed his anger and raised his voice. "It's not over yet! How did we lose?"
The burly man said in an unhurried tone, "That last move the young fellow made was the 'Curtain-Tearing Hand' from Orthodox Sanshou. If he had exerted force then, your throat would have been ripped out. Therefore, he won."
Ding Shuo fumed, "Bullshit! I had my grip pinned right onto the crook of his elbow—how could he have generated any force?"
The burly man said, "I am certain he could have."
Still refusing to concede, Ding Shuo glared at Chen Chuan. "I don't believe it! Not unless he demonstrates it on me!"
The burly man replied expressionlessly, "If this were a fight to the death, your life would already be gone. You don't get a second chance to verify it."
Ding Shuo cursed internally. *If this were a fight to the death, would I have fought like that in the first place?*
Hearing this, Chen Chuan breathed a quiet sigh of relief, knowing his gamble had paid off.
Given Ding Shuo's damage resistance, winning through brute force would have been exceptionally difficult. But since both sides had agreed in advance to stop upon making contact, there was room to maneuver.
What counted as "making contact"? It meant landing a potentially decisive or lethal technique against a vital target, but pulling the blow in time.
According to this rule, whether or not he had truly mastered the lethal application of the technique, touching those vital spots under plausible combat conditions counted as a decisive touch.
Of course, this depended on whether Mr. Qi and his people genuinely honored the rule or were merely paying lip service. If they shamelessly refused to acknowledge it, Chen Chuan would have had no recourse. Even so, it had been well worth the attempt.
Fortunately, it seemed these people still cared about saving face.
Yu Gang pondered for a moment. Under the gaze of the crowd, he walked forward until he stood opposite Mr. Qi, clasped his fists, and said, "Mr. Qi, give me half a year. Once I have settled a few matters, if you are still willing to welcome me then, I will join your gang."
Chapter 13