From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

When the crisp sound of the slap rang out, the audience fell silent for a moment, gasping for Jiang Chengzhi.

"Zhu Hong... he dared to slap Jiang Chengzhi?"

They say you shouldn't hit someone in the face, but this slap today leaves no room for maneuver for those who are worldly-wise and tactful.

"That's strange, why did it change to slaps?" someone scratched their head.

"Is this a move in Taizu Changquan (the style of Chinese martial arts)?"

"You're just ignorant," someone nearby couldn't help but sneer.

"This is a variation of the 108th move of Taizu Changquan, commonly known as—'Teaching You How to Be a Person'!"

"Get out!"

The man rolled his eyes and spat, "You're kidding me!"

"Hehe," the one who laughed replied:

"Anyone who lies is a devil."

……

Zhao Biao stood below the viewing platform, his joy now frozen, replaced by a grim anger.

He gripped the vermilion wooden railing of the viewing platform tightly with both hands, squeezing out a few words through clenched teeth:

"Zhu Hong, you're courting death!"

This anger was even more intense than when Zhao Gui came to him to complain before; this time, it had truly threatened his future career.

On the martial arts platform.

"You're going to slap me?"

Jiang Chengzhi steadied himself, feeling dizzy and disoriented. He covered his burning cheeks, his ears ringing, and felt as if the eyes of the whole world were on him.

He has lived a life of luxury since childhood; when has he ever suffered such humiliation?

shame.

An unprecedented sense of shame instantly extinguished all his reason.

I can lose to anyone, but I can't lose to this lowly commoner in front of me who can't even afford a decent piece of clothing.

"Zhu Hong, I'm going to kill you!"

Jiang Chengzhi roared like a madman, raised his iron sword, and shot forward like an arrow, with a ruthless determination to die together, aiming straight for Zhu Hong's heart. His moves were completely chaotic and without any rhyme or reason.

"Hmph, rotten wood cannot be carved."

Zhu Hong's eyes were icy cold. His opponent's mind was in turmoil, his energy was unstable, and his body was full of openings.

Instead of retreating, he advanced!

Just as Jiang Chengzhi lunged forward, Zhu Hong suddenly lowered his waist, sliding forward half a step like a fish, precisely cutting into Jiang Chengzhi's wide-open chest as he charged forward. At the same time, his right palm transformed from a fist into a palm blade, swift as lightning, delivering a heavy chop to the inside of Jiang Chengzhi's fully exposed right elbow joint.

"Snap!"

There was a heartbreaking sound of bone cracking.

Jiang Chengzhi felt a sharp pain in his right arm, his strength instantly dissipated, and he staggered forward.

"ah--"

"My hand!"

He instinctively threw out his left fist, but Zhu Hong's left hand gripped his left wrist like an iron clamp, twisting and pulling it downwards, disrupting Jiang Chengzhi's last balance.

His right leg swept out silently like a steel whip, tripping him right at the ankle of his supporting leg.

"Thump."

Jiang Chengzhi felt dizzy and completely lost his balance. He was slammed to the ground by a clever and domineering combined force and thrown off the martial arts stage.

"Father! Father—!"

He lay prone in the snow, his right arm bent at an odd angle, wracked with excruciating pain. His left wrist was also dislocated. His cheeks were swollen and red, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He struggled a few times, but due to the pain and exhaustion, he was unable to get up for a while and could only let out humiliating and painful groans.

The entire drill ground was completely silent.

Everyone, including the constables outside the stage, stared blankly at the scene that unfolded in the blink of an eye.

From the moment Jiang Chengzhi suddenly smashed his sword to the moment Zhu Hong broke his move at close range, twisting his wrist and tripping his leg, and swiftly knocking him off the stage, it only took two or three breaths.

Fast, accurate, and ruthless.

Only three words can describe it.

Without using any advanced martial arts techniques, but simply employing variations of the seemingly ordinary Taizu Long Fist, combined with concise and effective close-quarters grappling and leg techniques, he completely subdued a martial artist who had gone mad.

a long time.

The clerk at the invigilation table leaped down and came to Jiang Chengzhi's side. He squatted down to examine him briefly, his brows furrowed tightly.

Fragmentation of the ulna in the right arm and dislocation of the left wrist.

The injury was quite severe.

He shook his head and summoned two constables to carry the limp and listless Jiang Chengzhi on a stretcher to the official medical clinic.

The clerk then straightened up, looked at Zhu Hong, and announced in a booming voice, enunciating each word clearly:

"In the second round, in the 'Superior Review' match, Zhu Hong emerges victorious!"

The sound carried clearly through the wind and snow.

Upon hearing the verdict, Zhu Hong's face lit up with a smile. "Now only the final step remains." He bowed towards the clerk and the head constables.

"Thank you, sir."

He then walked toward the electoral seats.

To be honest, this victory was entirely due to the opponent's support. Any martial artist with a mature mind and some experience would never have won so easily without using the "Tiger Crouching on the Mountain Fist".

However, Zhenyuan Martial Arts School has completely offended them.

We must take more precautions in the future.

……

While some are riding high on success, others are burning with resentment.

As Zhao Biao watched Jiang Chengzhi being carried away, and then looked at Zhu Hong calmly walking off the stage, his deep-seated hatred could no longer be suppressed. With a "crack," the hardwood railing beside him was torn open by his five fingers.

"Zhu Hong, you little beast, I should have just killed you back then!"

He gritted his teeth, his eyes surging with murderous intent, wishing he could rush onto the stage and tear Zhu Hong to pieces.

But in the end, he didn't dare:

This was the venue for the martial arts examination at the Imperial Examination Hall. All the constables were surrounding it, and countless eyes were watching. He was just an instructor and had no right to make a move. He could only suppress his ruthlessness.

*

*

The noise has subsided, but the cold wind remains.

The competition continued.

The remaining matches were rather unremarkable.

Only a few martial artists remained, quietly commenting on the skills of the two who were about to fight, a far cry from the earlier lively discussions about the duel between Zhu Hong and Jiang Chengzhi.

"Brother Zhu!"

Behind Zhu Hong, Shi Dunzi, with his dark and honest face, came closer again, his big, copper-bell-shaped eyes shining with excitement.

"Congratulations, Officer Shi."

Upon seeing the visitor, Zhu Hong nodded slightly and smiled, "From now on, you'll be working in the public sector."

"No, no."

Shi Dunzi scratched his head, a hint of embarrassment on his face: "What's there to be happy about? It's not even close to being settled yet. Don't call me that, I can't bear the embarrassment."

"That's quite modest," Zhu Hong said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of these people, besides you who has already been chosen by Officer Jin, who else isn't worried?"

Upon hearing this, Shi Dunzi subconsciously glanced towards the east side of the martial arts arena. Jin Butou was standing under the corridor with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the two people competing on the stage, his expression serious.

"Captain Jin just mentioned it casually."

He quickly looked away, rubbing his rough hands together, and said, "Whether I'm strong enough or not is another matter."

About half an hour later.

As the two were talking, the clerk's final greeting rang out:

"Qi Ji—Victory!"

The competition has now concluded.

Liu Kui stood up from backstage, his dark-colored official uniform appearing particularly solemn in the twilight.

His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, swept across the audience, passing over the eleven faces—some weary, some excited—before he slowly began to speak:

"In the winter of the forty-first year of the Longqing reign, the selection of martial arts students in Jinyang Prefecture was conducted..."

He paused for a moment:

"That concludes the discussion."

As soon as the words were spoken, everyone's eyes turned to them.