Offense and Defense

Those words were infuriating! What did he mean by "it didn't take much effort"? Those present were all young people who couldn't stomach that kind of slight. Right away, quite a few directed hostile glares at Chen Chuan, and one by one, they stepped out from the crowd. Ni Xixi immediately spoke up. "One at a time. Don't add humiliation to defeat." These young people who had stepped forward all possessed their own pride; naturally, none were willing to gang up on him, and most quickly stepped back. Chen Chuan didn't mind either way. One opponent had one way of fighting; two opponents had another. At worst, he could use the Second Self to ward off damage and open up the Furnace Breathing Technique just a bit more, which would elevate his physical conditioning enough to handle the vast majority of people present. Among those who remained in the center, they looked at one another, and in the end, only one young man with a burly build and a thin layer of cropped hair stayed behind. Cupping his fist, the man said, "Trainee Chen, I'm Dou Bing." His voice was deep and resonant. A physique like his clearly specialized in grappling; evidently, they intended to pick themselves up where they had fallen. Chen Chuan returned the salute. "Please guide me." He was relatively familiar with grappling. The earliest true opponent he had faced, Zhong Wu, was adept in this path, as well as Zhong Wu's friend Qiu Xin—who to this day still lay bedridden right alongside him—who was likewise a skilled grappler. Moreover, at Wuyi Academy, the Grappling Division was practically the stronghold of the Mutual Aid Society, so he had privately guarded against and studied such opponents more than any other kind. Grappling was not simply lunging forward foolishly to grab someone; on the contrary, it tested one's eyesight and technique the most. Assuming that someone with a massive build was dim-witted was merely a stereotype. In reality, though fighters primarily trained their bodies, in most situations they relied on their brains. Against such fighters, he had devised many countermeasures, but had rarely had the chance to test them afterward. Now seemed like a good time to try. Even if he failed, it didn't matter—it wasn't often he had such a skilled opponent to practice against, and here he didn't need to worry about winning or losing. Having thought it through, he didn't assume a stance, merely standing there at ease. Dou Bing, on the other hand, treated him as a formidable foe, showing no contempt despite Chen Chuan's casual posture. The previous bout was enough to prove this opponent was no pushover. Yet after a few probing moves, Chen Chuan still seemed completely unguarded, which couldn't help but puzzle Dou Bing. Although he remained highly cautious, he wouldn't shy away because of this; he possessed solid confidence and conviction in his grappling techniques. Thus, he crept closer with measured footwork, then suddenly lunged forward, hands snatching toward Chen Chuan. Looking at where his hands reached, they targeted almost the exact spots where Chen Chuan had grabbed Han Kuang—clearly intending to defeat Chen Chuan using the very same method Chen Chuan had just used to defeat Han Kuang. Yet to the surprise of most onlookers, facing this grab, Chen Chuan didn't dodge or parry at all. He was seized just like that, causing even Dou Bing himself a jolt of startled disbelief. Not just them—even Ni Xixi and several older spectators were equally taken aback, wondering what he was playing at. Still, their discerning eyes and rich experience quickly brought a possibility to mind. Could he be planning to... The instant Dou Bing grabbed Chen Chuan, his jin surged into Chen Chuan's body. At this point, half of his worries were put to rest. Regardless of whatever scheme Chen Chuan had, unless Chen Chuan's strength completely overwhelmed his own, there was no way to break free at this stage. From here on out, the tempo belonged to him. He hoisted Chen Chuan up abruptly and slammed him toward the floor—almost an exact mirror of how Chen Chuan had thrown Han Kuang moments before. The crowd watched with bated breath, and some couldn't resist cheering prematurely. Yet none of them noticed that Chen Chuan's expression remained calm throughout. Just moments before his body struck the floor, he suddenly moved. Bending his torso, he whipped his legs upward to lock around Dou Bing's neck, then twisted his hands to grip Dou Bing's arm. A surge of jin penetrated in reverse, while his back and abdominal muscles contracted simultaneously. Dou Bing suddenly felt a wave of numbness wash over him, and his balance was instantly lost. His downward slamming motion turned into a forward roll, his back crashing onto the floor with a loud bang. Chen Chuan used the momentum to land firmly on his feet, immediately stepped forward, pushed down on Dou Bing's head as it tried to lift, and drove it downward. With a dull thud, the latter lay motionless. The spectators were stunned. The tide of battle had turned too swiftly, leaving no time to react and making it hard to accept. Chen Chuan had clearly been on the verge of defeat, yet in the spark of a flint, the roles had reversed, and the one lying on the ground was Dou Bing. Ni Xixi tapped her lips, which were coated in purple lipstick, thinking to herself that it was indeed just as she had suspected. In grappling, during the transition of gathering and releasing jin, there were virtually no openings to exploit. If an opening existed at all, it was that as the jin was gradually unleashed, control over the restrained opponent weakened. Yet for mutated tissue, going from being restrained to being freed required a brief period of adaptation and recovery. Most people simply lacked the time to react, let alone deliver an effective counterattack. Yet Chen Chuan had pulled it off, exploiting that singular sliver of an opening to strike back. It was an exceptionally bold choice. If his reaction had been a fraction of a second slower, or if his mutated tissue had not mobilized in time, he would have doomed himself completely. Was it that others couldn't think of this method? Or couldn't see this opening? Not at all; it was that they didn't dare, and were unwilling to take such a risk. He truly was daring. She couldn't help but lead the applause with a gentle clap. Risky though it had been, it was undeniably brilliant. The key was that he had won—and in victory, every choice was vindicated and beyond reproach. Following her applause, Liu Yin immediately joined in. His expression was earnest. He had always believed that victory and defeat were commonplace; losing was nothing shameful—one only needed to identify the reason for the loss and patch the vulnerability. Every opponent was worthy of respect. If one found defeat unacceptable, how was that any different from closing the door and declaring oneself the strongest in the world? He was highly popular among the younger generation. Seeing him do this, many had no choice but to clap along reluctantly, and a scattered, lukewarm smattering of applause echoed across the venue. After clapping, Ni Xixi looked at Chen Chuan. "Trainee Chen, that's two matches now. Do you need to rest?" Chen Chuan said earnestly, "Thank you, Sister Ni, but that took about as much time as the last one. I shouldn't need to just yet." Hearing his words, several young people in the crowd involuntarily clenched their fists until their knuckles cracked. Ni Xixi glanced at them and hummed softly. "Then who's next?" After a moment, another trainee stepped out from the crowd. His body proportions were exceptionally well-balanced, the lean muscle beneath his training uniform taut with strength. Cupping his fist toward Chen Chuan, he said, "Trainee Chen, I am Ren Qiao. Please guide me." Chen Chuan returned the gesture. "Please guide me." Ren Qiao looked at Chen Chuan with utmost caution. The lessons of the first two matches told him that he must under no circumstances engage in close-quarters combat; he could only force him back and keep him at a distance. Because Chen Chuan had defeated two opponents in succession right off the bat—and both in a single move—Ren Qiao's goal was not as ambitious as defeating Chen Chuan immediately. Instead, he intended to skirmish and maneuver, keeping himself from being defeated first. At this moment, a round-faced woman around thirty with short hair walked up to Ni Xixi's side. She remarked, "Ren Qiao has always been very grounded. While he isn't quite on Liu Yin's level, his strength lies in his steadiness. He understands that the path must be walked step by step. He should be able to hold out against this Brother Chen for a while." Ni Xixi flicked a coin with a snap. The short-haired woman caught it in one hand, glanced at it, and said, "An imperial-era one-yuan silver coin? Quite rare. Worth a hundred to two hundred yuan now?" Ni Xixi said, "I bet one round." The short-haired woman pocketed the silver coin. "You're on." Out on the floor, Chen Chuan still stood casually. It was a stance that looked as if a mere push would knock him over, yet Ren Qiao didn't dare underestimate him in the slightest. However, he couldn't remain in a standoff for too long. Doing so would only erode his sharpness, and with so many onlookers around, they hadn't gathered to watch him stare blankly on the mats. Feeling the heavy pressure, after waiting for a moment, he decided to launch an attack. He didn't strike recklessly. Instead, after inching closer, he raised a foot as if to kick, executing a subtle feint to bait Chen Chuan into shifting stances or making a move first. But Chen Chuan remained entirely unmoved. Seeing the feint yield no result, he immediately stepped forward half a pace and snapped a kick outward. Although it appeared full of power, he held back some reserve; whether Chen Chuan moved in or backed away, he had follow-up moves ready. Though Chen Chuan appeared casual on the surface once Ren Qiao took the floor, he never looked down on any opponent and had been watching him closely. Seeing Ren Qiao's style of engagement, he knew the man was carrying psychological baggage, which was why he opened so conservatively. In an arena tournament where both sides were bound by rules and many methods were prohibited, there was nothing wrong with such a mindset. But in an exchange match like this, without overt regulatory constraints, fighting like that was hardly an advantage. Moreover, that was precisely something he could exploit. Facing the probe, Chen Chuan slightly bent his knees, parted his hands, and leaned forward a fraction. To everyone watching, it looked as though he was preparing to rush in and grab Ren Qiao's waist the moment the kick was thrown. Ren Qiao's heart tightened, but having anticipated this, he promptly dropped his kicking leg while sliding his other leg back, seeking to lower his center of gravity. At that exact moment, however, Chen Chuan's movement shifted again. His hands rose, faintly angling toward Ren Qiao's head, and he took a step forward. Ren Qiao realized it wasn't a waist tackle after all, but an attempt to seize his head. If Chen Chuan made contact, regardless of whether jin was discharged, Ren Qiao would undoubtedly be judged the loser. In a rush, he raised both hands, adopting a blocking guard ready to counter. Yet right then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Chen Chuan's foot lifting slightly off the ground, poised to kick. A jolt of panic struck him—if that kick landed, it would strike precisely into the gap at his waist. The previous gesture had only been a feint to draw away his guard! If this strike landed, regardless of whether it injured him, it would throw his balance completely off. Having spotted it, he naturally had to recover. He hurriedly pulled back his power, attempting to shield the exposed flank. What he hadn't anticipated was that before he could complete the motion, the sudden, excessive shift in balance caused him to sway, stumbling half a pace sideways. Not good! By the time he sensed danger, Chen Chuan was already upon him. Two hands reached out—one gripping his waist, the other clamping onto his shoulder. A sudden surge of jin penetrated inward, turning his whole body limp and weak, and with a thud, he sank to his knees on the floor. Then he felt knuckles lightly tap the back of his neck. His body shuddered involuntarily, and with a bitter smile, he said, "I concede."