Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

Just as Yang Weihong was completely confused by Zhang Dabiao's words, the back door of the last police car parked at the bridgehead opened.

First to step off the bus was an elderly man dressed in a white martial arts uniform. The old man had white hair and beard, but a ruddy complexion, and he walked with a brisk pace and a powerful air. Immediately after him, a thin old man dressed in a gray Zhongshan suit stepped off the bus from the other side. He was also dressed as a martial artist, with his hands behind his back, exuding an air of authority without being angry.

The last person to get off the bus was an elderly man with gray hair but a straight back, dressed in a gray cadre uniform. He wore black-rimmed glasses and exuded an air of authority from someone who had long held a high position.

The moment these three elderly people appeared, the previously noisy atmosphere instantly fell silent for three seconds.

These days, leading cadres don't need to deliberately project an aura. The gray-collar cadre dressed as an old man simply stood there and glanced around, and several sharp-eyed kids from the compound immediately gasped.

"That...that's Director Tang from the Sports Commission, right?" Zhao Weiguo asked, his voice trembling as he hid in the crowd.

"Holy crap, it really is! I saw him when my dad and I went to a meeting at the Sports Commission!" Tian Yiming was also dumbfounded.

Yang Weihong naturally recognized the person who had come. His mind went blank; he was completely dumbfounded. It was understandable for the police to come and arrest people for affray, but what was the director of the sports commission doing here?

Just moments ago, Zhang Dabiao had acted like a reckless rascal, but now he had transformed into a beaming, enthusiastic smile. He strode forward, adopting an extremely humble posture, just like a model student meeting a superior.

"Oh, Director Tang, Grandpa Feng, Master Wang! It's so hot, I'm really sorry to trouble you three elders to make the trip." Zhang Dabiao greeted them while taking out a pack of special-supply wordless Yellow Crane Tower cigarettes from his pocket, skillfully opening them and offering them to each of them.

That's right, these masters were all brought over by Zhang Dabiao's master, Qin Dingsong.

Director Tang didn't accept the cigarette; he just frowned as he looked at the formation of several hundred people.

"Da Biao, you called it a small sparring session on the phone, but this is what you call a small sparring session?" Director Tang pointed to the steel pipes and bricks scattered on the ground, his tone stern.

"It's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding." Zhang Dabiao laughed it off without batting an eye. "Young people love to watch the excitement. When they heard there was a martial arts exchange, they all came to learn and observe."

Zhang Dabiao turned around and took the large tin megaphone from Director Chen.

He patted the horn opening with his palm.

"Feed, feed, feed—"

A sharp, piercing electrical hum instantly pierced the entire venue. People in the front rows couldn't stand the noise and covered their ears, wincing in pain.

Zhang Dabiao cleared his throat, his expression becoming extremely serious, even carrying a hint of heartache. His voice echoed through the loudspeaker above the bridge arch.

"I know some of you brothers here today are cursing me in your hearts. You're saying I, Zhang Dabiao, don't follow the rules, and that you shouldn't call the police to interfere in a fight, right?"

Zhang Dabiao, holding a megaphone, paced between the two groups of people as he spoke.

"But have you all thought about this? What are the police officers here for? They're here to maintain order! My fight with Yang Weihong was a personal matter between the two of us. How did it suddenly turn into a brawl involving hundreds of people?"

He suddenly stopped, pointed the megaphone at the children of the compound, and then pointed at the children of the alley.

"If a fight really breaks out, swords and spears have no eyes. What if something happens? Everyone has parents. Is it worth risking your life for a little face?"

Zhang Dabiao's voice suddenly rose, his tone filled with righteousness.

"Isn't this escalating internal contradictions among the people? This is wrong! It's a mistake! It's causing trouble for the country and society!"

After these words were spoken, the entire room fell silent.

Everyone was dumbfounded.

How did this escalate to internal contradictions among the people?

What's going on here?

Sha Zhu stared, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor. He scratched his ear, thinking he'd misheard. Was this really the same Zhang Dabiao, the living Yama who would break someone's arm at the drop of a hat and decide the life or death of a national leader with a single word? Where did this blatant political acumen come from?

Xu Damao was equally bewildered. He tugged at Liu Guangqi's sleeve and stammered, "Guangqi...is Da Biao possessed? Why is he suddenly spouting such high-sounding nonsense?"

"He never used to do this kind of thing, did he?"

Liu Guangqi swallowed hard, looking at Zhang Dabiao's back with eyes full of awe.

He finally understood; Da Biao had played a brilliant move. He had managed to elevate what could have been classified as a vicious gang fight to a level requiring the resolution of internal conflicts among the people.

Seeing the bewildered expressions on both sides, Zhang Dabiao was secretly overjoyed. He raised the megaphone and continued broadcasting.

"So, let's try something different today."

Zhang Dabiao pointed to himself, then to Yang Weihong.

"Yang Weihong and I are exchanging martial arts skills as a friendly competition, one-on-one. This isn't a fight; it's a fair, just, and open sporting event—a martial arts competition!"

Upon hearing the words "sports event," Yang Weihong's legs went weak, and she almost knelt down before Zhang Dabiao.

A brawl turned into a sporting event?

Why the hell don't you go write novels?!

Zhang Dabiao didn't give anyone time to react. He put down the loudspeaker, turned around and walked to Director Tang and the two martial arts veterans, respectfully gesturing with his hands.

"So I specially invited Director Tang Zhenguo of the Beijing Municipal Sports Commission, as well as respected senior figures in the Beijing martial arts circle—Master Feng of Xingyiquan and Master Wang of Baguazhang!"

Zhang Dabiao picked up the megaphone again, his voice booming.

"Today, witnessed by Director Tang of the Sports Commission and several senior figures, and organized by professional referees, we are conducting a standard one-on-one competition. The police officers are the security personnel we've invited to maintain order and protect the safety of the audience!"

Zhang Dabiao's words definitively defined the nature of this brawl.

Official certification, endorsement from the State Sports Commission, martial arts masters as referees, and police maintaining order—this level of prestige and scale is off the charts.

"In the future, if there are any conflicts, don't resort to weapons so easily. Compete according to official national martial arts standards and sports competition standards; safety first, competition second!"

"Young people are bound to be hot-blooded, that's understandable, but don't be so violent and aggressive. Too much aggression is not good," Zhang Dabiao earnestly advised everyone present.

Among the children of high-ranking officials, Zhao Weiguo, Liu Yuanchao, and Zhu Hongqi exchanged glances, their lips twitching uncontrollably.

Tian Yiming couldn't hold back any longer and cursed in a low voice, "To hell with his violent temper! When Zhang Dabiao was fighting all seventeen of us by himself, why didn't you say he was violent? Why didn't you say fighting and killing was bad back then?"

There was also a commotion among the young men in the alley. Sha Zhu's fellow apprentices looked at each other in bewilderment. When had they, who were just street vendors on the overpass, ever participated in such a formal competition?

Zhang Dabiao ignored the murmurs below. He turned to look at Yang Weihong, raised his chin, and his eyes were full of provocation.

"How about it, Yang Weihong? I've laid out the rules for you here. There are witnesses, martial arts veterans, referees, the director of the sports commission, and police officers to maintain order."

Zhang Dabiao slammed the loudspeaker on the ground and crossed his arms.

"Should we continue?"