“Are you his chum? If not, get lost.” He threw me the question.
My eyes furrow. Is he looking for trouble? “What are you doing?”
“Get lost. None of your business.” One of the kids yelled.
“The rules of the tournament forbid contestants from fighting outside the official match. Anyone who promotes a situation where the contestants have to fight outside the ring is subjected to punishment by the Six Provinces union.”
“The audacity! Do you know who I am?”
“State your identity, you and the troublemakers behind you too. I will report to those in charge.”
“Tch! You wouldn’t dare.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Cheeky squirt. You think you can get away? I am Chen An. Do you know whose clan I belong to? It’s Chen clan of the eight clans.”
“Yeah. It’s the Chen clan.” The kids joined up like a choir.
“And why should I care what Chen you are? (There are many words that are pronounced as Chen. Yun An is implying the “Chen” that means “dust/dirt”) Do you think your last name will allow you to do whatever you want?”
“How dare you insult my clan! My father will destroy your family, but before that I will cripple you!”
Red lotus-like flame engulfs his entire body. Despite the heat I could feel from way over here, his clothes show no sign of being affected. I can see his qi being focused on his fists. The flow of qi drags the flame’s intensity with it. The red flame over his body turns amber, while the burning qi in his hands grows in size and turns blood-red.
He dashes toward me. The flaming fists aim for my face. Even a pass makes a few strands of hair on my side curled up, catching fire. One is more than enough for me to reevaluate the safety distance from those hands. As he attacks in earnest, it becomes harder to completely avoid. Withstanding or deflecting upcoming attacks are more my specialty. In the face of a dangerously close punch to my sternum, my fingers grab hold of his wrist.
“Fool! Chen clan’s Lotus Fire will burn you to ash!”
Although the flame has been reduced to amber colour, touching his skin feels like dumping my hands in burning oil.
Chen An easily breaks free of my loosened grip and resumes his motions. The missing attacks graze past me, scorching the wall’s lime paint grey and the unfortunate leaves yellow. This bloody idiot actually violates the rule and litters evidence all over the place? I thought Tian Zhong was exaggerating. I can’t believe I meet one right here.
His techniques become more violent, the more I dodge. He is familiar with combat to predict my moves in a limited way plus his reaction speed is nothing to sneeze at. There is only one way for me to successfully retaliate. Do exactly as I intended, I crash my fist right into his.
“ARRRRGH!”
Didn’t expect that, did you? Saying so, I am not better than him. In fact, I am worse off. Merely a split of a second in contact caused a more terrible burn on my right fist than the one on my left hand.
“I will mess you up, you cunt!”
As he finishes that sentence, his body armours up. I detect similar reaction to when my opponents strengthened their qi constructions (qi skin, flesh, vessels, bones) and qi armours. He got an entire qi armour. His cultivation is at least the seventh level of Qi forming stage. This moron could have set the qi armour right at the start, but he was too arrogant to do so.
Qi armour or not, I didn’t cause much damage anyway. Qi constructions provide a passive protection even without actively pulling qi into them. I renewed a few fractures thanks to meeting his punch straight on, but his injury wouldn’t be anymore than a momentary jolt of pain. Should I take out my blades? Would that still lie within self-defence?
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As I resolve to use my weapons, a distinctive and familiar impression grows to the left of me. I turn to Jia Hui. His right hand is getting enveloped by a transparent emerald spearhead. He did this on the test ground too. The qi then was just not as dense as it is now. I also couldn’t make out the form of the spearhead back then.
The intensity alarms Chen An. He bites his lower lip. “You! Don’t think you can bluff with that. I am near the eighth level of Qi forming stage. Ain’t no way that qi can scare me. Any demon animal can produce that level of qi and I beat them all. What differentiates a great cultivator from a third-rate is how one uses their qi. You think you can be more skillful than me?”
Through his bang, Jia Hui shows no changing expression. He crouches down on three limbs. The spearhand coils up his shoulder. It’s obvious what he will do next.
Without warning, Jia Hui leaps off the ground. If I didn’t have an entire view from Jia Hui to his target, my eyes wouldn’t be able to move in time to follow him despite my perception.
At the next moment in that sequence of events, Chen An is knocked into the wall. His qi armour, shattered. His flame and qi body, extinguished. His two blocking palms, pierced and bloody. His consciousness, gone. This is the consequence of using your hands to guard against Jia Hui’s assault.
The three little troublemakers grow pale. They attempt to wake Chen An up to no avail. They drag his body away in fear while keeping eye-contact with the both of us.
When it’s sure that they are out of sight and their dragging noise along with frantic waking calls are beyond our hearing, I comment. “That’s excessive.”
He looks at me, confused.
I explain. “They may not accept this as an act of self-defence, if you knock him out cold like that.”
His round eyes open wide.
“Forget that. How is your arm?”
He reaches the limp arm. “It doesn’t hurt much.”
“Don’t touch it! We need to get a doctor.”
“I don’t have money.”
“The union’s doctors don’t take money from contestants.”
“But master and seniors say doctor costs money.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Just go with me. If it costs money, I will pay for you.”
We begin walking.
“Why do you pay money for me?”
“You helped me, didn’t you?”
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