Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

As Cang Lifeng watched the figure pressing down like a mountain, Master Zhou's words echoed in his ears: "The finger strike to cut off the meridians is not meant to harm people, but to break their momentum. The strongest have their weaknesses; attack them and they will have to defend themselves; this can break through a thousand pounds."

He recalled that afternoon in the training room of the South City Martial Arts School—Master Zhou made him practice the finger strike three thousand times in front of the wooden dummy until his fingers were so swollen he couldn't clench them into a fist. He asked his master why he had to practice so many times, and his master said, "You've truly mastered it when you can strike it without thinking." At this moment, watching the trajectory of the black bear pouncing, he had no thoughts in his mind, and his fingers were already moving.

At that moment, he suddenly understood that what his master meant by "being able to hit without thinking" was not that his hands were skilled, but that his mind was at peace.

Thinking of this, he suddenly lowered his waist and slid down like a nimble ape, narrowly missing the huge fist that was hurtling past him. The fierce wind from the punch stung his cheek and made his sideburns fly.

In the instant their bodies crossed paths, Cang Lifeng's right hand, fingers pointed like a knife, precisely stabbed deep into the black bear's right armpit—the Jiquan acupoint—exposed by the full force of his punch. This area is densely packed with nerves and is one of the most vulnerable points in the human body.

"Ugh—" The black bear's unstoppable, massive body suddenly stiffened, as if pierced by a high-voltage current. A painful groan escaped from deep within his throat. His ferocious forward momentum was abruptly halted, and a sharp, tingling pain flashed from his armpit to his entire arm and even half of his body! His massive body swayed uncontrollably, staggering back three steps before barely regaining his footing. His left hand clutched tightly to his right armpit, veins bulging on his forehead, and large beads of sweat rolled down his face.

Silence. Deathly silence.

All sound in the square seemed to be cut off by an invisible hand. Everyone stared in disbelief at the scene on the stage—the mighty black bear, as powerful as a mountain, was forced back by Cang Lifeng, whose size was far inferior to his, with a single finger, and was in excruciating pain.

"Hiss... What a precise finger strike! It hit the nerve!" In the crowd, an old boxer who knew a bit about boxing gasped and exclaimed in a low voice.

"Whoosh—" After a brief silence, exclamations and discussions erupted like a volcanic eruption. The villagers, driven to a distance, shone with disbelief and excitement in their eyes. The boys from Xiqiao Village were trembling with excitement, their clenched fists sweating profusely.

But Cang Lifeng didn't turn around to look at the excited teenagers. His gaze passed over the black bear's swaying body and landed on Liu Tietou's face. The scarred face twitched, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Below the stage, the boy named Tiedan was held tightly by the wrist by his father, Li Dazhuang, standing at the very edge of the crowd. He couldn't see the stage, but he could hear people in front of him shouting "One finger forces them back." He looked up to ask his father, but found that his father was standing on tiptoe looking forward, and the hand that was holding him had let go at some point.

In the distance, Cang Shouzheng looked at Cang Lifeng on the stage and suddenly remembered himself many years ago. Back then, before Zheng Guozhong framed him, he too stood in the crowd, watching others box. He turned to look at Cang Xiangrong—his seventeen-year-old son, clenching his fists, his eyes burning with fire. He had seen that fire before. Twenty years ago, he himself had seen it too.

Liu Tietou never expected that his carefully chosen top henchman would suffer such a heavy loss in a single encounter. This was not only a slap in the face to the black bear, but also a rip-off of Liu Tietou's dignity, which was then thrown on the ground and stomped on.

"Trash! Disgraceful!" Liu Tietou spat out the words through gritted teeth, veins throbbing on his forehead. His eyes flashed with ferocity as he turned and pointed at his two muscular, synchronized twin brothers behind him. "You two, you jinxes! You two go and see what this kid's got to do!"

The two chosen as "jinxes" and "traitors" stepped forward without a word, their movements synchronized as if they were one. They used no weapons; their four hands moved like butterflies flitting among flowers, carrying a sharp palm wind, specifically targeting Cang Lifeng's joints and weak points—an extremely troublesome combined attack technique!

Cang Lifeng's eyes narrowed, knowing he couldn't afford to get bogged down in a prolonged fight. He took a deep breath, combining the Southern-style short-range striking techniques taught by his master Zhou Qingfeng with agile footwork, dodging and weaving in the confined space. He held nothing back, using fists, palms, elbows, and knees simultaneously, each collision producing a dull thud as he precisely parried or guided his opponent's attacks, searching for openings in their combined strikes. Finally, in the instant the two attackers shifted their offensive, Cang Lifeng precisely seized that fleeting opening. Instead of retreating, he advanced, his movements as swift as lightning, delivering a devastating "Mountain-Pulling Strike" that landed squarely on "Murderer's" chest!

With a muffled thud, "The Mourning Star" felt an overwhelming force surge through him, his blood and qi churning in his chest, his lower body becoming unsteady. He was forcefully knocked off the ground and sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the edge of the stage. After struggling for a few moments, he was unable to get up.

Almost simultaneously, Cang Lifeng used the recoil from the impact to twist his waist, and his right hand, fingers pointing outwards, moved with lightning speed, leaving only a blur, precisely stabbing at the inside of "Mourner Star's" wrist. "Mourner Star" felt a numbness in his arm, and his entire arm instantly went limp and powerless. His attack came to an abrupt halt, and he retreated in horror.

In the blink of an eye, the "Funeral Couple," whom Liu Tietou relied on and who had been undefeated in Futian Township, were easily defeated by Cang Lifeng. One fell to the ground, unable to get up, while the other retreated in defeat, clutching his arm.

An incredulous gasp erupted from the crowd. This result was far more astonishing than the previous victory over the black bear.

Liu Tietou's ferocious grin froze completely, then turned a deep purplish-red, like a pig's liver. He watched helplessly as his strongest team was dispatched like vegetables, especially after he had just uttered those harsh words. It was tantamount to being slapped hard across the face in public. He felt as if all the gazes around him were needles piercing his face, and the burning shame and indignation seemed about to burst through his skull.

Liu Tietou was utterly humiliated. He no longer cared about the "rules of the ring," and kicked over the armchair in front of him with a loud crash. Pointing at Cang Lifeng, he roared, "All of you, get him! Cripple him! Tear down this damn platform!"

Twenty-odd desperados, like a flood bursting its banks, swung wildly toward the stage, brandishing clubs and chains.

Faced with the surging crowd, Cang Lifeng knew that he couldn't protect everyone with just his fists and feet. He suddenly untied his nine-section whip from his waist, flicked his wrist, and the whip, like a serpent emerging from its hole, swept towards the few thugs charging at the front with a sharp whistling sound! The whip's shadow crisscrossed the relatively open area in the center of the stage, instantly forcing back a small area and buying precious breathing time for the boys behind him. "Xiangyang, lead everyone away from the back of the stage, quick!" he shouted sharply without turning his head.

"Big Brother!" Cang Xiangyang's eyes were bloodshot with anxiety, his knuckles white as he gripped the long staff. He wanted to rush forward and fight alongside his brother, but his brother's stern command bound him like invisible shackles. He looked at his brother's back, standing alone in front of him—his back ramrod straight—but suddenly he saw his brother turn his head slightly and glance in his direction. Just one glance, and he froze: that look lacked its usual composure, containing something he had never seen before, like someone giving their final instructions, or perhaps a farewell. Cang Xiangyang's teeth nearly ground to powder.

"Come on! All of you, come with me! Don't cause trouble for your brother!" Cang Xiangyang practically roared. He turned around abruptly, forcing back the tears that were about to spill from his eyes, and roughly shoved the boys around him who were unwilling to leave. He led the entire martial arts team, staggering, off the stage and retreated to the relatively safe open space below the stage.

On the stage, Cang Lifeng was suddenly left alone to face more than twenty ferocious thugs wielding weapons!

With his worries gone, Cang Lifeng flicked his wrist, and the nine-section steel whip, like a venomous dragon ready to devour its prey, swept towards the charging thugs! The whip tip tore through the air with a sharp whistling sound, and in the blink of an eye, two or three men were struck in the wrist, screaming as they dropped their clubs. But there were simply too many enemies. He had just swept away the enemies in front when a short iron-clad club slammed into his left shoulder blade from the flank! "Ugh!" He staggered, his left arm throbbing with pain, and his whipping motion faltered. Almost simultaneously, an iron chain wrapped around his ankle, and someone kicked him from behind—he staggered to one knee, a sweet taste rising in his throat, followed by a mouthful of metallic salt. He gritted his teeth and swallowed, looking up to see ferocious faces all around him, the shadows of clubs pressing down like mountains.

"Big brother!"

Below the stage, Cang Xiangyang watched helplessly as his elder brother swayed precariously amidst the flurry of blows, struggling to stay upright. His once clean training clothes were now torn and soaked with glaring bloodstains. Every groan and stumble of his brother felt like a sharp knife stabbing into his heart!

"Ah—I'll fight you to the death!!"

His eyes were bloodshot, and he roared like a wild beast. He grabbed a long stick and charged back onto the stage like a lion that had been completely enraged, rushing towards the most vicious thugs who were besieging Cang Lifeng!

"Protect the master!"

When Cang Xiangrong saw his cousin rush out, his pent-up fear was instantly replaced by overwhelming anger. He let out a shout, grabbed his red-tasseled spear, and charged out as well!

Below the stage, Cang Shouzheng was terrified when he saw his son rush up. He instinctively wanted to shout, "Xiang Rong, come back!" but Cang Yongqiang beside him held him back tightly: "Father, don't shout, let your brother go! Our Cang family can't be full of cowards!" Cang Shouzheng looked at his son's resolute back, then at the blood-soaked Cang Lifeng on the stage. A long-lost surge of passion and immense shame welled up in his heart. He abruptly closed his eyes, swallowing back the words that were about to burst out, along with bitterness. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with determination.

With one person taking the lead, the other teenagers, their blood boiling, grabbed their weapons and shouted, "Let's fight!"

Amidst roars, the boys, their eyes bloodshot, charged onto the stage with a tragic and fierce spirit, fearlessly ready to die.

A chaotic brawl erupted instantly! The sounds of clubs clashing, curses, screams, cracking wood, and smashing props filled the air! The scene was completely out of control!

The audience erupted in chaos and gasps!

"Xiaojun! My son! Come back quickly!" A woman hiding in the crowd cried out in anguish. She was one of the parents who had begged Cang Lifeng to let her child leave. When she saw her son rushing forward, she was terrified.

"Tiedan! Get down here! Do you hear me!" Another man jumped up and down in a panic, wanting to rush over but afraid of those fierce-looking thugs.

Below the stage, Cang Tianci watched his elder brother fight fiercely in the crowd, watched his senior brother Xiangyang be surrounded and attacked, watched his fellow senior brothers who usually sweated alongside him be beaten to the ground. Images flashed before his eyes: Wang Yaowu's sinister grin as he pushed him into the water, his mother's swollen face, the taste of blood in his mouth as he bit Wang Zhenkun, the collapse of his world when that punch landed on his temple… The humiliations of the past, Wang Yaowu's sinister grin, his mother being beaten, his elder brother's teachings… countless images exploded in his mind! A violent force, a mixture of fear, anger, and the deepest desire to protect, erupted from the depths of his heart like a volcano!

"Ugh—" He roared like a wild beast, grabbed a long bench leg, as thick as an arm, that had been broken off in the chaos, and charged toward the stage without a care.

Seeing her youngest son rushing towards the stage without hesitation, Su Yumei let out a heart-wrenching, inhuman scream, like a mother wolf protecting her cubs. She tore through the crowd in front of her and charged towards Tianci like a madwoman.

However, Cang Zhenye and Cang Yuanzhi were nowhere to be seen—they hadn't deserted. Just as the conflict began and Liu Tietou's men surrounded them, Cang Yuanzhi's pupils constricted sharply. He grabbed Cang Zhenye, who was about to rush forward, and whispered, "What's the use of you going up now? Come on, let's go see if they've arrived yet." He pulled his brother along, quickly retreating from the center of the crowd, heading straight for the designated rendezvous point.

As Cang Tianci rushed onto the stage with a frenzied suicidal intent, he gripped the spiked stool legs tightly with both hands and swung them hard at the shinbone of a thug who was raising a short stick to smash Cang Xiangyang’s back!

"Bang!" A dull thud that made your teeth ache! Accompanied by a piercing scream, the thug fell to the ground.

Cang Tianci didn't even glance at the man. He pulled out the blood-stained stool leg and pounced on another thug wielding a chain like a madman. He completely abandoned defense, focusing solely on offense, each swing carrying a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve. The heavy stool leg whistled through the air, either smashing into the opponent's weapon-wielding arms or sweeping across their lower body. That reckless ferocity and sudden burst of brute force instantly stunned the thugs who were attacking him.

"Tianci, watch out!" Cang Lifeng was both shocked and furious. He had just forced back an enemy with a sharp finger strike when he saw out of the corner of his eye that his younger brother had his back wide open in order to save Xiangyang.

A thug with a face full of scars grinned maliciously, swung his heavy iron-clad short club, and smashed it down hard on Tianci's unsuspecting back of the head! The force was enough to kill.

Cang Lifeng was too far away to reach him! Cang Xiangyang was entangled by two thugs and couldn't break free! Su Yumei's shriek tore through the air from below the stage, but she was still in the crowd and couldn't rush over!

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

Only that short, iron-clad club, carrying the whisper of death, drew ever closer.