My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy!
Chapter 448 - 295 I’m Just a Delivery Guy

Chapter 448: Chapter 295 I’m Just a Delivery Guy

The so-called "Zhinan Shortcut" was not easy to traverse.

Though it was a military training base on the surface, it was not a scenic area meant for tourists to enjoy the greenery, lacking comprehensive infrastructure.

Crystal-clear waterfalls, mountain streams flowing high.

Despite each step offering a new view, for the average person, the climb still posed some difficulty.

In the midst of intense and strenuous combat, one also had to expend energy struggling against the natural environment.

It not only tested the climber’s skill but also their endurance.

Yan Weiwei and the others, as martial artists who trained year-round, naturally found climbing a mountain no trouble at all, even Yan Feng, who already looked like an old man, appeared calm and collected...

"You could at least pave the path with some stones..."

Walking on the somewhat rugged mountain path, Meng Lang felt the heavy "safety" on his back and silently admitted his miscalculation.

Life often presents a difficult multiple-choice question: should one choose to strive or to be comfortable...

"Master Meng, let me help you," Fan Shigang, tall and strong, volunteered with an understanding look in his eyes.

"Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose, thank you so much!"

It turned out that when you receive help on your path, it can become a multiple-choice question as well...

In this manner, following the guidance of a staff member from the organizers, it took roughly twenty minutes for everyone to arrive at the next "competition point."

This was a small platform built of brick and stone, with only basic leveling done and a somewhat rudimentary wooden shed erected on it, which seemed like a place for people to rest.

At the moment, five climbers dressed in uniform grayish-blue martial arts attire were waiting there.

However, two or three of them were surrounding a fellow disciple with a pale face, clutching his chest and sweating profusely, trying to help him regulate his breathing.

"It turns out to be Master Yan of the Twelve Road Spring Leg, Wang Lang of the Phoenix Eye Fist pays his respects."

An older bearded man greeted the group as they reached the platform, stepping forward with a fist and palm salute.

"Master Wang, what happened here..." After returning the salute, Yan Feng looked at the injured disciple of the Phoenix Eye Fist.

"Alas! We were not skilled enough, which must look quite amusing to Master Yan," Wang Lang sighed.

"Was it that Baji Fist’s Li Lei?" Yan Feng asked with a frown.

"Indeed, the ferocity of the Baji Fist is well-deserved. I’m afraid my head disciple won’t be able to continue fighting today."

In his voice, there was an unavoidable trace of resentment, suggesting the other party hadn’t pulled punches.

"Master, let eldest brother rest properly; I will take over this match!" a disciple with thick brows and big eyes stepped forward from the ranks of the Phoenix Eye Fist students.

"Alright, remember to stop at the touch, Master Yan, please proceed," Wang Lang nodded and extended his hand in a welcoming gesture.

The crowd cleared a space in the center for the contest, and the thick-browed disciple of the Phoenix Eye Fist looked at Yan Weiwei as she stepped up to compete.

"Phoenix Eye Fist, Lu Ping!"

"Spring Leg, Yan Weiwei!"

Yan Weiwei was making her first appearance today; she stood with her feet neither pointing inwards nor outwards, her eyes fixed on her opponent’s shoulders and elbows, exuding a calm and ready aura.

Lu Ping performed a knee bend and waist sink as his initial stance.

Seeing Yan Weiwei showed no intention of attacking first, he moved in close, "Excuse me!"

As he closed in, his body suddenly accelerated, his thumb and index finger curling into the shape of a phoenix eye, his knuckles powering through as he threw a punch that whistled through the air.

"Phoenix Eye Fist" is a special way of clenching the fist in Bai Mei Fist.

The three fingers below the middle finger were tightly held in the palm, with the index finger protruding, using the bone at the root of the index finger in a straight line with the back of the hand, and the thumb firmly secured over the eye of the fist to stabilize the index finger.

It was used to strike at vital points with extreme penetration, and a single punch could immediately knock the opponent to the ground, unable to get up.

After Yan Weiwei slightly dodged the first punch, Lu Ping’s right leg pushed off the ground as he spun around, using the momentum to deliver another fierce kick to Yan Weiwei’s head.

Yan Weiwei raised her arm to block with her forearm, but Lu Ping followed up with a knife hand strike, which suddenly changed from a horizontal chop to a diagonal thrust, aimed straight for Yan Weiwei’s throat...

"Sister Weiwei, you can do it!" Xiao Yu watched nervously, clenching her small fists tightly.

This Bai Mei Fist was said to have been created by Taoist Bai Mei from Sichuan Emei Mountain, which, despite the name suggesting compassion and benevolence, was in fact forceful and aggressive, with strong coherence, and was a combat boxing style that focused on practical fighting.

"Damn, isn’t this move a bit nasty?"

Attacking the eyes and locking the throat, aiming below the belt, Meng Lang found it extremely perilous and even felt that this boxing style was somewhat "merciless."

"A fighting style that focuses on practical combat is mostly seen as ruthless because they basically target the human body’s vital points," explained Hu Yifei, once again taking the stage to guide the perplexed Meng Lang.

"Modern martial arts are in decline, partially because firearms are widely available, and additionally, in times of peace, there’s simply no need for such lethal skills.

Even if you did train in it, with the rule of law, would you dare to use it? You could easily end up in jail.

Having the skill to slay dragons is futile if there are no dragons left."

"Hmm!" Meng Lang nodded in understanding.

In fact, modern combat sports like boxing and Sanda, although they are confrontational, are just about competing in physical fitness under various restrictive rules, which greatly reduces the impact of skill on the outcome of a match.

If such insidious techniques were permitted, there would be no need to distinguish between "lightweight" and "heavyweight" fighters; everyone would be brought back to a relatively level playing field...

Ordinary people often have a sense of frustration, always wanting to expose fakes in the martial arts community, but when they see such full-contact moves, there are probably few who can accept them.

If someone were to use a "Thousand-Year Kill" move in a video, the type that could cause psychological trauma, the comments would likely be flooded with "shameless," "despicable," "low" reactions.

Yup! It seems the higher the skill level, the worse the online slamming might be...

Compared to this, "Lightning Five-Chain Whip," a wellness technique for treating cramps in hands and feet, is more in line with the needs of a modern and harmonious society.

"But this Twelve Road Spring Leg seems quite friendly, doesn’t it?" Meng Lang asked, confused.

He hadn’t felt a sense of ruthlessness when he fought Yan Weiwei before.

"Heh! Brother Meng, do you know what our Twelve Road Spring Leg’s ultimate skill is that we keep as a trump card, only to be used when it’s absolutely necessary?" asked Hu Yifei with a strange look in his eyes, lowering his voice.

"What is it?"

"Groin Kick."

Meng Lang: "..."

Should I be thankful that Yan Weiwei didn’t "lift" me last time?

"Bang!"

While they spoke, the victor was decided in the ring.

The Bai Mei Fist disciple named Lu Ping fell heavily to the ground, clutching his stomach in evident pain.

"Thanks for letting me win!" Yan Weiwei pulled back her fist and gave a fist-and-palm salute.

Looking at her calm and composed demeanor, it was clear there was a significant gap in strength between the two.

"You... why didn’t you use your kicks?" Lu Ping, who had fallen to the ground, said with some frustration.

The Twelve Road Spring Leg was most threatening for its explosive and powerfully snapping kicks, full of suddenness and impact.

I was freaking guarding against your snapping kicks the whole time, and after more than a dozen moves, you didn’t even lift your foot, and in the end, you still knocked me out with your fists?

That made the loss feel a bit suffocating.

"Illusion and reality, who said I had to kick?" Yan Weiwei lifted her proud little chin.

"Weiwei! Show some respect!" Although Yan Feng was inwardly beaming with joy, he knew he still had to save face for his opponent.

"Haha! Master Yan, truly, a tiger father has no dog daughter, we admit defeat," Wang Lang said with a wry smile, accepting the loss.

While his "mountaineering team" still had disciples yet to take the stage.

However, with the leading disciple having been beaten so badly he couldn’t compete, and the second having just failed to provoke the other’s snapping kicks, continuing the fight was pretty much futile for those left.

Instead of making futile efforts, it was better to let the disciples conserve their energy, and wait for the next climber.

Wanting to climb higher, one must pick the softer persimmons; this was also one of the strategies that mountaineering teams had to consider.

"Since both sides have no objections, then I declare the winner of this match to be Twelve Road Spring Leg!

Master Yan, will you choose to ’defend the mountain,’ or continue ’climbing’?," asked the staff member accompanying the team.

"We’ll continue climbing!"

After answering, Yan Feng and Wang Lang’s group exchanged fist-and-palm salutes and continued their ascent with their team.

"What’s ’defending the mountain’ and ’climbing’?" Meng Lang asked as he followed behind, puzzled.

Hu Yifei was not at all impatient, and cheerfully explained,

"It’s like this: at intervals up the mountain, there are stages.

At each stage, climbers must fight a battle, and after every contest, the winner has two options.

’Climbing,’ naturally, is to bravely and vigorously advance, challenging higher rankings.

’Defending the mountain’ is for those who feel their strength or stamina is insufficient to continue ascending, so they stay at the current stage to await challenges from other climbers.

The ’defender’ that loses steps down the mountain, or, after an hour of rest, may challenge again.

If they win again, the former defender may choose to continue ’climbing’.

In short, the general rule is to maintain one’s current ranking as much as possible, then, based on one’s strength, choose the right moment to challenge higher stages."

"Oh! So every climber, no matter how early or late they arrive, must fight at each stage to reach the top?"

"Exactly, being first to climb doesn’t necessarily mean an advantage because they must defend the stage and face continuous challenges from other climbers.

Those who come later are at a disadvantage, too, as the climb is only open until sundown; if the battles delay you too much, you might not even reach the peak."

"I see."

As everyone continued climbing and had moved a bit further away from the previous stage, Yan Feng spoke in a stern voice.

"Weiwei! You were too disrespectful just now!

Even though we are stronger, you shouldn’t refrain from kicking entirely, giving no face to the opponent. We’re lucky Master Wang was magnanimous enough to not take offense."

Mm! Although not pleased, Meng Lang nodded in agreement with Yan Feng’s lesson on manners.

After all, as a practitioner of the Spring Leg, not kicking at all... that really did seem a bit insulting.

"I didn’t kick, but who said I didn’t give face?" Yan Weiwei looked indignant.

"Still arguing back! How did you give face?"

"Didn’t I let him punch a few rounds?"

"Er..."

Everyone was somewhat speechless.

But after thinking it over... not defeating him with a single move was indeed leaving face...

Yan Feng twitched the corner of his mouth, facing such an advanced spin; he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, and could only express his helplessness.

"At least give me one kick, will you?"

"No way, my leg hasn’t recovered to its peak condition yet; I must conserve my strength for stronger opponents!" Yan Weiwei shook her head.

"Hasn’t recovered to its peak? What do you mean?" Yan Feng was taken aback for a moment.

Yan Weiwei certainly wasn’t going to explain to Yan Feng how she had jumped from sixty meters high eighty-one times the day before.

She waved her hand impatiently, "It’s nothing; just played too hard yesterday, my legs are weak."

"Er..."

Hearing these bold words, Yan Feng instantly understood what was going on.

He turned his head, glaring fiercely at Meng Lang behind him!

"I..."

Meng Lang was confused; with so many people around, why was he being stared at?

The secret technique was her own, she practiced until her legs were weak.

I’m just the delivery guy, what does this have to do with me?

Faced with Yan Feng’s "irrational rage," Meng Lang pondered.

At this moment, should I pretend not to see and enjoy the scenery? Or should I offer an awkward but polite smile?

Logically, I should smile.

After all, I am partly responsible for Yan Weiwei’s weak legs.

But considering Yan Feng’s completely twisted feelings of like and dislike, at this point, I should probably...

He widened his 24mm axle-distance eyes.

And glared right back!

Everyone: "..."