The Blade-Wielding Legend
Chapter 45 Pugilistic World

Chapter 45: Chapter 45 Pugilistic World

Bang! Bang bang!

"Hey! The winds of the pugilistic world stir waves, and the Three Religions and Nine Sects come to the stage. The Samurai compete in martial prowess, the Confucian scholars debate principles, the Magicians showcase Divine Skills, each striving for supremacy..."

Bang! Bang bang!

"Look at this, the Red Fist master strikes quickly, the Xingyi dominates the Eight Trigrams Palm. The dragon and snake from the Three Religions and Nine Sects gather, the perilous pugilistic world requires caution. The crisp music resounds far and wide, singing of the beauty in the human world..."

At the entrance of the archway street, voices surged, and the fast-talking artist’s clappers flew rapidly.

The so-called dragon, snake, rat, and ant each has their own path.

A life-and-death duel entangled the life and death of both sides, as well as various struggles over interests, but for the common people and Jianghu people, it was a grand event.

The people of the Divine State have loved lively scenes since ancient times.

Even the beheading in the marketplace attracted many onlookers, with food vendors scurrying around, let alone martial arts duels.

It was even more lively than a temple fair play.

Ordinary people could hardly wait until the scheduled time in the afternoon, finishing lunch and rushing early to secure a spot, lest they couldn’t squeeze in later.

But for ordinary Jianghu guests, it was a good opportunity.

The saying goes, "Meeting and exchanging hardships, they must be Jianghu people," but most tides of unrest are stirred by only a few; more often, it’s about hustling for small loose silver taels.

Before dawn, a group ran to "draw the pot."

What is "drawing the pot"? It is when Jianghu artists perform by laying out a patch of white sand on the ground to create a circle, firstly to stake territory, secondly to cordon off an area for performance space.

But this group was clearly not here to perform.

They were from the Chang Chun Association, native to Xianyang.

During temple fairs or large celebrations, Jianghu performers and vendors were indispensable, but everything followed rules, or else disputes over space could lead to fights.

The Chang Chun Association specialized in these matters.

They were usually esteemed Jianghu artists responsible for pre-allocating space and maintaining order.

Of course, they also paid dues to local gangs and took cuts from small vendors and street performers, earning intermediary profits.

Just past noon, the crossroad was already jammed like a wall of water.

Here, the sound of fast clappers played by "Short Rods" could be heard, there, the "Long Rods" fiddlers played, and families of Fengyang drum artists performed...

Needless to say about the vendors selling various snacks, even the leather workers came for the fun.

They set up stalls, using iron rasps to grind fake rhinoceros horns in an act called "Setting Four Flats."

They bare their torsos, striking themselves with iron rods, selling ointments for bruises and injuries, known as "Side Placing Men." More daringly, they slash their arms with small knives to sell wound medicine, called "Green Shafts"...

In the distance, there was a group of porters from the Carriage Shop.

Unlike edge characters like Du Daya from the Li Family Castle, these porters were all muscular and robust, even in the cold; their pant legs rolled up to reveal stout calves, all were well-trained in foot techniques...

In short, this martial arts competition stirred waves in the previously calm Jianghu of Xianyang City.

......

"Why haven’t they come yet?"

"Aren’t they going to fight?"

"What’s the rush? It’s not afternoon yet..."

As more and more people gathered, numerous idle individuals visibly grew impatient.

The whole archway street at the old crossroads was thronged, but luckily the wooden stage was three meters tall, visible from any corner.

The taverns and teahouses lining the streets undoubtedly had the best views.

With a private booth on the second floor, opening the window allowed a clear view of the stage, accompanied by a pot of tea and three or five friends, truly a display of prestige.

Of course, ordinary people couldn’t book such spots even with money.

Those who secured these excellent positions were all figures with fame and renown in the Jianghu of Xianyang City, distinctly separated.

...

In the tavern to the east sat the faction of Divine Fist Association’s Zhou Pan, including several veteran instructors; the Eight Great Vajras were all present.

And Zhou Bai was also among them.

He looked at the stage outside with eager eyes and suggested, "Why not let me go first? We can’t leave it cold."

After all, he was a young man. Though he sparred frequently, this was the first time he competed before such a crowd. Claiming he wasn’t excited would purely be a lie.

"What’s cold about it!"

A middle-aged man with black hair, white sideburns, and a tail moustache rebuked coldly, "You think it’s acrobatics? Sit tight and focus, maintain your warrior’s spirit!"

The speaker was Zhou Peide, the eldest among the Eight Great Vajras.

He was the eldest, strict and straightforward, his skills only average among the eight, but he was Zhou Pan’s cousin and the father of Zhou Bai.

Because of this connection, he held the leading position.

Hearing this, Zhou Bai shrank his neck and dared not speak again, though his eyes were full of dissatisfaction.

Yuan Qu saw this and immediately smiled, "Zhou Bai, don’t be anxious. This is not about who arrives first. That young man sent a challenge post; he shall go on stage first. You go later to signify your status."

"Oh, I see."

Zhou Bai immediately understood.

Zhou Peide, watching from the side, immediately frowned.

To be honest, he despised Zheng Hebei and Yuan Qu, two scoundrels perpetrating evil under the guise of the Zhou family.

Unfortunately, his elder brother Zhou Pan needed to maintain stability within the Divine Fist Association and deal with connections in Chang’an, necessitating resources, thus reluctantly accepting these two men.

After the event, he intended to caution Zhou Bai against associating with them...

...

In the tavern to the west, sat Zhang Yuanshang and several elderly individuals.

In contrast, it was much quieter here.

Finally, someone couldn’t help but speak, "Master Zhang, by personally handling this, you’ve completely severed ties with that old monkey; it’s not worth it."

Zhang Yuanshang maintained his composure, calmly filling his water pipe, taking a few puffs, "For a family, or a sect, the old folks are the foundation, but truly important are the youth."

"If the children succeed, even from poor families, they’ll earn respect. If descendants fail, eminent families will inevitably fall."

"In this generation of the Zhou family, only Zhou Bai stands out. The rest are either useless or debauched."

"Don’t be deceived by the current prosperity of the Zhou family. The old monkey’s vitality may have waned this lifetime, halting at Force Transformation. If Zhou Bai loses, some will surely reconsider their stance..."

Everyone nodded, deeply agreeing.

Though the Jianghu respects strength, interests ultimately motivate actions. Especially for the Divine Fist Association, operating within the regulations of the Great Xuan Dynasty, it couldn’t act like bandits creating disorder everywhere.

Even bandits face calamities if their virtues don’t match their positions.

Zhou Pan, these past dozen years, had excessively overstepped certain boundaries.

In Xianyang City, not few awaited their downfall.

"Is there a chance to win?"

"About thirty percent."

Zhang Yuanshang took a few puffs from the water pipe and nonchalantly said, "An old face like mine, for a two or three percent chance, is worth it!"

"Father, they’re here!"

At this moment, Zhang Shitong, watching by the window, whispered.

Everyone looked outside, seeing a commotion at the northwest street entrance. Amid the shouts of some Zhang family martial artists, the crowd parted.

On the street, a youth approached boldly.

Dressed in coarse black samurai clothes with tied leggings, looking like a country boy, but his straight stature, fair complexion, and dragon eyes with phoenix brows made him stand out amidst the crowd despite the rustic attire.

Following behind him were a Daoist and a bearded bald man, none other than Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan.

"Is this Li Hu’s son?"

Inside the teahouse, an elder was somewhat surprised, "Li Hu has the appearance of a bear, yet how did he sire such a handsome child, proving to be a fine candidate for playing a "flower dan"..."

Others chuckled subtly, shaking their heads lightly.

This elder was Luo Shihai, an Eight Trigrams Palm senior in Xianyang City and the head of the Longsheng Opera Troupe, a die-hard theater enthusiast.

If not for a promising female disciple of his, defiled by a Zhou family descendant and driven to suicide, he wouldn’t have become embroiled in Jianghu disputes and sided with them.

Regardless of varied intents, Li Yan approached the center of the crossroads, ignoring the surrounding gazes, focusing entirely on the stage.

Seeing the platform, his eyes slightly narrowed.

Beside him, Sha Lifei scoffed, "The Zhou family’s people are indeed like this, always playing tricks."

The stage was built a bit strangely.

Ordinary stages, even without the climbing stakes, have circular wooden frames for climbing.

However, this Zhou family stage was boarded up on all sides, with no footholds visible, even shining with a gleam in the sunlight, obviously coated with tung oil.

This was an apparent show of strength.

With so many spectators, if he couldn’t even ascend the stage, the opponent wouldn’t need to appear; he’d have no face to remain.

"No problem, just a small trick..."

Li Yan glanced nonchalantly around.

Observing, he noted thick ropes like arms, tied to the central columns and fixed to iron stakes in the ground, pulled taut around the stage.

Without a word, Li Yan approached a rope.

Witnessing this, the common folk and Jianghu people widened their eyes in disbelief.

The rope, albeit thick, sloped steeply and only reached halfway up the stage. Could he be intending to climb it?

For martial artists, albeit not difficult, it was unsightly.

In terms of momentum, it seemed a bit lacking.

Unexpectedly, Li Yan didn’t use his hands. Instead, he stepped onto the rope, alternating feet, steadily walking upwards...

"Well-done!"

The crowd burst into applause.

"What is this?!"

In the crowd, several members of the Iron Blade Gang and White Ape Gang sneered, "Isn’t this just the Xicai Sect’s rope-walking trick? Was this kid a performer before?"

"What do you know?"

An elder nearby snorted, "Rope-walking uses soft ropes and skillful force techniques. This young man’s lower body strength is remarkable, walking straight and hard."

"If you don’t understand, don’t speak nonsense here."

Several ruffians, embarrassed and angry, cursed and moved to assault, "You old geezer..."

But before finishing, they fainted, heads lolling.

Among the crowd were some youths who acted instantly, knocking out the ruffians, then delivering a few kicks to their ribs.

These unfortunate ruffians stumbled upon a maestro from the Xicai Sect.

While below, a commotion ensued. Li Yan, unfazed, continued up the rope, paused mid-stage, leveraged the rebound force, vaulted, and grasped the platform’s edge with his right hand.

Then, like a swift "Yaozi," he elegantly landed on the stage.

Cheers erupted from below again.

Li Yan offered a fist salute to the surroundings, simultaneously eying around the platform, estimating the area, checking for slick or uneven spots.

Swish!

Meanwhile, opposite, Zhou Bai, unable to restrain himself, seeing Li Yan ascend, leapt directly from the second-floor tavern window.

After a roll to dissipate force, he neared the stage and, facing the slick wooden wall, merely extended and grasped; his five fingers embedded into it. Like a gecko on a wall, he swiftly climbed to the platform...