From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

"Oh?"

Zhu Hong's lips curled into a very faint smile, which could hardly be called a smile, but rather seemed to indicate his understanding of the playboy's nature.

Seeing this, the stone stool beside him became curious and whispered in a low voice, "Brother Zhu, have you had a grudge against this black-eyed chicken?"

We just met today.

"Huh?" Shi Dunzi opened his mouth, scratched his head and muttered, "You only met him today? Then why does he look at you like you dug up his ancestral grave?"

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, and his subconscious thoughts drifted to a different direction:

"Did you insult someone's wife?"

Zhu Hong glared at him irritably, shook his head, and stopped talking nonsense. He turned his head and his eyes met Liu Dutou's gaze.

Liu Kui's gaze was deep and fixed, lingering on his face for a moment before he spoke in a low voice:

"Zhu Hong, Jiang Chengzhi chose you as his opponent in accordance with the law. But," he paused, his tone becoming more forceful:

"You have the right to refuse, it's entirely up to your own conscience."

"This Chief Liu is quite fair." Zhu Hong stood there, somewhat surprised by the second half of his words, which he had thought would leave no room for refusal.

His gaze immediately fell on Jiang Chengzhi's arrogant face, a casual smile playing on his lips:

"He was chased and bitten by dogs all the way; he deserved a good beating." His eyes suddenly sharpened, and he shouted:

"Chief Liu, I'll accept this invitation!"

These words struck Jiang Chengzhi, and his face instantly fell. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, a hint of ferocity flashed in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth, saying:

"Fine, fine, fine, what a big mouth you have! You're just a peasant in coarse clothes, yet you dare to talk nonsense," he said, his palms clenching slightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Today I'll show you what proper boundaries are!"

The crowd outside the stage, whether they were elected or not, all watched with wide eyes, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

Chou Dou.

It's far more interesting than just a simple contest of skills.

One of them is the only son of the owner of Zhenyuan Martial Arts School. He grew up soaking in medicine since childhood, and his muscles are stronger than the average person's.

In contrast, what about Zhu Hong?

The entire outfit of that guy from Chicken and Goose Alley wasn't even worth the ruyi pattern on the boots Young Master Jiang was wearing.

Such a stark contrast in backgrounds has piqued people's interest.

"Hmph, this little bastard really knows how to ask for death."

Zhao Biao heard everything clearly from the viewing platform. He licked his lips, a mocking smile playing on his lips, his eyes and brows showing utter disdain for Zhu Hong: "Fine, let Cheng Zhi loosen up your muscles for you."

"Captain Liu."

Jiang Chengzhi turned his head, slightly bowed towards the invigilator's table, and said loudly, "Since he has agreed, let's begin."

"allow."

Having said that, Liu Kui said no more. His gaze lingered on Zhu Hong for a moment, a barely perceptible hint of appreciation flashing in his eyes.

The government needs fierce and capable servants, not delicate flowers in a greenhouse.

……

A gust of wind rose, swirling the remaining snow across the bluestone arena.

Zhu Hong and Jiang Chengzhi stood facing each other.

Jiang Chengzhi, dressed in a dark brocade robe and holding a long sword, stood on the platform. Seeing that the man was dressed in tattered clothes and had also taken out a sword, he immediately sneered:

"Even a stray dog ​​from the countryside can wield a sword?"

Zhu Hong gently wiped the hilt of the sword with his fingertips and said calmly, "Whether you can wield a sword or not has nothing to do with a piece of trash like you who only knows how to wear nice clothes."

He had never learned swordsmanship, and in this life he had only dealt with the curved needles and thin blades used for sewing corpses. He was completely unfamiliar with this weapon of killing.

However, the reason for touching the sword:

It's simply a chance to test my skills so I can decide later whether or not to use the sword.

"Sharp-tongued and quick-witted."

A cold glint flashed in Jiang Chengzhi's eyes, and he stopped talking nonsense.

He stepped forward with his left foot, his body turned to the side, his longsword hanging obliquely, its tip trembling and humming slightly. He used the "Whirlwind Sword Technique" taught by his father, his sharpness suddenly spreading out, completely different from his previous frivolous appearance, the sword wind chilling.

He shouted loudly:

"Catch the sword!"

The longsword was thrust out, the tip of the sword trembling as it produced three sword flowers, piercing three vital points.

Zhu Hong's pupils contracted slightly. He dared not use his unfamiliar swordsmanship to meet the attack head-on. His feet felt like they were on ice, and his waist leaned back, almost parallel to the ground. He narrowly avoided the sharp sword tip grazing his nose. At the same time, the tip of his iron sword touched the ground with a "clang," using the force to float back more than ten feet and land steadily.

"You dodged quickly!"

Jiang Chengzhi's sword missed its mark, but instead of being angry, he laughed. He didn't stop his sword strike and swept it across Zhu Hong's waist and abdomen. The sword wind howled and stirred up a patch of snow on the ground.

"We cannot keep avoiding battle; it will only make us more and more passive."

Seeing the fierce and wide-ranging sword strike, Zhu Hong knew that retreating further would mean falling to the edge of the platform with nowhere to go. "Whatever the move, I'll just attack the vitals!" His eyes darkened, and he stopped dodging. He thrust the iron sword forward haphazardly, neither blocking nor parrying, aiming straight for Jiang Chengzhi's wrist.

Using offense as a form of defense, or relieving the siege of Wei by attacking Zhao. In other words, in the world of martial arts:

A fist fears youth and strength, a stick fears desperate action.

"What a street thug!"

Jiang Chengzhi frowned. Although his sweeping attack was fierce, if he insisted on striking, his own wrist would probably be hit first.

Although the opponent's swordsmanship was crude, his strength was considerable, and being stabbed was definitely not a good thing.

He felt slightly annoyed:

"Vulgar! All you do is wrestle and fight randomly." He then flicked his wrist, changing the sword's momentum from a horizontal sweep to an upward slash, and with a "clang," it precisely struck the blade of Zhu Hong's thrusting sword.

Sparks flew up.

Zhu Hong felt a surge of force, his tiger's mouth trembled violently, and he was pulled to the side and back two steps before he regained his balance.

"This force is half a head stronger than mine."

He felt a chill run down his spine and dared not underestimate the situation.

"What a mess!"

Jiang Chengzhi sneered, pressing his advantage relentlessly. With a flick of his longsword, countless points of light flashed, enveloping the area like a sudden storm.

Zhu Hong was struggling to keep up, relying solely on his reflexes to barely hold on. Yet, his heart remained calm.

"Sword techniques may look intimidating, but their staying power may not be long-lasting."

"Wait a little longer..."

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The sound of metal clashing was incessant.

He retreated step by step, forced to the edge of the arena, his figure becoming increasingly disheveled, his breathing becoming heavy, and his arm holding the sword trembling slightly.

To outsiders, Zhu Hong was already at his limit, and defeat was imminent.

"Hide? How long can you hide?"

Jiang Chengzhi's eyes gleamed with even greater pleasure, his swordplay grew ever more rapid, and in one move:

"Wind sweeps away the clouds—" He suddenly spun his long sword, and the sword shadows piled up in layers, pressing down from all directions.

Just now.

A glint flashed in Zhu Hong's eyes, and instead of using his sword to parry, he made a move that surprised everyone.

"The enemy attacks, we fight; now it's my turn!"

With a sudden flick of his wrist, he hurled the nicked iron sword in his hand like a javelin towards Jiang Chengzhi's face. At the same time, he pushed off with his feet, leaping back a large step instead of advancing, narrowly avoiding the most intense part of the "whirlwind and swirling clouds" attack.

The sword flew like a shooting star.