Chapter 53: Blood Will Fly Three Feet

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The match began soon afterward. Cui Xiucheng and Chen Zhiwei stood upon the circular fighting platform. Sunlight glinted coldly off the treasured sword in Cui Xiucheng’s hand, while Chen Zhiwei wielded a pair of tiger-headed hooks.

The two clasped their fists in greeting.

“When Chen Zhiwei runs into Cui Xiucheng, it is like a mouse meeting a cat. Surely he will throw down his weapons and surrender at once,” Meng Xueqiao sneered from below the platform.

A cool smile touched the corners of Cui Xiucheng’s lips when he heard this. Even if you know what is going on, what can you do about it? The lots were drawn under the eunuch’s supervision. Who could find fault with that?

“Junior Brother Chen, here I come.”

As he spoke, Cui Xiucheng thrust his sword straight at him. Chen Zhiwei turned aside and raised his weapons to block. Cui Xiucheng smiled faintly, then swept his sword around toward Chen Zhiwei’s left side.

Naturally, Cui Xiucheng had no intention of letting Meng Yuxi below see through his techniques. He and Chen Zhiwei had agreed beforehand that the second move would cut Chen Zhiwei’s cheek, after which Chen Zhiwei would cast aside his weapon and admit defeat.

Chen Zhiwei knew Cui Xiucheng’s character. He understood that Cui Xiucheng had to perform the entire act properly. Only by actually injuring him could he make others believe that neither side had shown mercy.

Before this, Chen Zhiwei had thought Cui Xiucheng merely used every means at his disposal against his enemies. But in this examination, with all the southern students competing and fellow disciples repeatedly forced to face one another, Chen Zhiwei finally saw the true face of this hypocrite.

He bent low and avoided Cui Xiucheng’s sweeping sword. Cui Xiucheng could not help uttering a startled sound.

Chen Zhiwei’s tiger-headed hooks struck with the technique Tiger’s Kiss Breaks the Waist, stabbing fiercely toward Cui Xiucheng’s waist.

Cui Xiucheng was shocked. He raised a leg and kicked viciously at Chen Zhiwei’s face. Yet Chen Zhiwei seemed to have anticipated the move. He immediately spun aside, his right-hand tiger hook curving straight toward Cui Xiucheng’s thigh.

Cui Xiucheng lost his temper. He abandoned his feigned clumsiness and turned aside to evade the hook. Then, using the technique Yaksha Searches the Sea, he wielded his sword like a spear and thrust diagonally straight at Chen Zhiwei’s throat.

The strike was swift, ruthless, and precise.

“Anyone who takes a life will be judged the loser!” Meng Yuxi shouted from below.

Cui Xiucheng froze for a moment. Quite right, he thought. He immediately shifted the sword point and tapped it against Chen Zhiwei’s left shoulder.

Chen Zhiwei was struck at once. Just as Cui Xiucheng was about to withdraw his sword, Chen Zhiwei suddenly shouted, “A true man is born between Heaven and Earth! How could he remain forever beneath another’s heel?”

With a hoarse cry, Chen Zhiwei became as ferocious as a wild beast. He thrust himself forward onto the sword and once again used Tiger’s Kiss Breaks the Waist. His left arm could no longer be raised, but the tiger hook in his right hand descended with tremendous force, stabbing violently toward Cui Xiucheng’s waist and abdomen as though he meant to sever him in two.

Cui Xiucheng had only recently begun cultivating his martial arts. Whenever he exchanged blows with others, he had merely practiced against opponents arranged by the renowned masters favored by his father. He had never encountered such a desperate fighting style.

“Drop the sword and save your life!”

Meng Yuxi lowered his head and covered his mouth as he hurriedly shouted in a hoarse voice.

Cui Xiucheng’s face went pale. With no time to think, he let go of the sword.

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“Bullshit! Circulate your true energy!”

A young man’s voice rang out swiftly from beyond the arena.

At once, several young eunuchs standing behind the blue-robed eunuch shot into the air and flew toward the source of the voice.

Before long, the sounds of true energy colliding—bangs, clangs, and explosive impacts—rang out. The battle receded into the distance.

“Master?” Cui Xiucheng wondered.

Only after hearing that reminder did Cui Xiucheng remember to circulate his true energy repeatedly. The force carried through his sword slammed into Chen Zhiwei, sending his body pitching backward. Then another wave of energy struck.

Chen Zhiwei spat a mouthful of blood into the air, spreading it like a crimson mist. His eyes grew hazy, and he was on the verge of losing consciousness. Yet even as he fell, he caught sight of Cui Xiucheng’s purple robe—and found it unbearably hateful.

With the last of his strength, he hurled the tiger-headed hook in his right hand.

Cui Xiucheng was circulating a third wave of true energy at that moment and had left his legs undefended. The hook tore a long gash across his calf. Fortunately, Chen Zhiwei was already at the end of his strength, and the hook carried little force. Otherwise, it would certainly have gouged a chunk of flesh from Cui Xiucheng’s body.

Chen Zhiwei’s collapse also allowed him to barely evade the third wave of energy. Had he not fallen, he would surely have lost his life there.

“Chen Zhiwei has lost consciousness and is judged the loser. Cui Xiucheng wins,” announced the blue-robed eunuch.

He waved a hand, and two young eunuchs carried Chen Zhiwei away on a stretcher.

“Can he be saved?” Meng Xueqiao asked in a low voice.

“Rest assured, young master. The young eunuchs under my command are not the sort to eat without doing any work,” the blue-robed eunuch replied with a smile.

Meng Yuxi cupped his hands. “May I ask your name, Eunuch?”

The blue-robed eunuch bowed slightly. “In reply to Young Master Meng, my surname is Wen. You may call me Eunuch Wen.”

Meng Yuxi smiled and returned the gesture.

He could not help wondering. Eunuch Wen was truly strange. If even his subordinate eunuchs were this formidable, he certainly could not be a minor official. If the Eastern Depot and Western Depot existed here, he would surely be at least a deputy director—or perhaps some kind of workshop chief. Why, then, was he being so courteous to an ordinary scholar like himself?

Eunuch Wen bowed once more, then called out, “The next two contestants, take the platform. Do not stand there gawking.”

The matches that followed proceeded swiftly. Everyone was a scholar, and after exchanging a few blows, some contestants simply abandoned their weapons and admitted defeat.

Meng Mingzhe advanced smoothly. As for the brothers Meng Xueqiao and Meng Chenxuan, they threw aside their weapons and immediately began swinging their fists.

Meng Chenxuan was rather hot-tempered. After only a few exchanges, both of them had discarded their weapons. Without weapons, Meng Chenxuan’s Golden Thread Armor offered little advantage. It was simply too thin: it could protect him from cuts, but not from the impact of fists. To make matters worse, Meng Xueqiao was striking him directly in the face.

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Before long, Meng Chenxuan raised his hand and surrendered.

At last, it was Meng Yuxi’s turn to enter the arena.

“Brother Meng!”

“Brother Guo!”

The two exchanged a fist salute.

“Then let us begin,” Meng Yuxi said with a smile.

“Very well, let us begin. But I have recently composed a new poem. I hope you will favor me with your appraisal, Brother Meng.”

Meng Yuxi smiled, folded his fan, and placed it behind his back. With one hand, he made an inviting gesture.

“Please recite it, Brother Guo.”

“Very well, Brother Meng. Here I go.”

“Upon the martial platform fierce winds blow,
Within the city, heroes strut and show.
Their mouths speak righteousness, their hearts scheme deep;
With kindly faces, wicked souls they keep.
Tiger hooks flash like lightning, roar like thunder;
False feelings and empty vows are torn asunder.
True gold fears not the furnace’s flame;
Hypocrisy can never hide its shame.”

Guo Xinyi smiled. “What do you think of this poem, Brother Meng?”

Meng Yuxi smiled. “It is sincere and heartfelt, rich in emotion, and plain in diction. But if you changed the word ‘scholar’ to ‘official,’ it would be even more wonderfully apt.”

Meng Yuxi burst into laughter. Everyone below the platform roared with amusement—everyone, that is, except the disciples of the Zhenshan Sect.

A cold glint appeared in Cui Xiucheng’s eyes.

“Are you two going to fight or not? If not, hurry up and call it a draw, then get out of here together!”

Cui Xiucheng’s fellow disciples joined in, shouting and jeering.

Guo Xinyi acted as though he had not heard them. He merely said, “Composing poetry also requires courage. Brother Meng’s suggestion is well taken. I shall return at once and alter that word.”

As he spoke, Guo Xinyi took a writing brush from his robes and began making corrections in his palm. Then, just like that, he stepped down from the platform.

“Guo Xinyi has left the platform and is judged the loser. Meng Yuxi wins!”