Chapter Sixty-Two: The Story Concludes

People of ill repute rarely meet a good end, especially those who seek their own destruction. The once arrogant “Dragon Claw of Milk-Grabbing” had now been trampled into a misshapen mess, a true “boneless chicken claw” if ever there was one.

A few men carried Feng Jingzhe off the stage as if lifting a heap of rotten mud. Mr. Fox glanced over and nodded in satisfaction, quite pleased with the outcome. At present, it seemed that the Night Rakshasa on the stage had at least a third of her strength thoroughly spent. If facing her before had meant certain defeat, now the odds were even.

He did not rush to enter the ring, but instead squatted beside Feng Jingzhe’s “corpse.” He reached into his sleeve, intending to retrieve the half-volume of the martial arts manual. But suddenly, a “chicken claw” gripped his wrist in an eerie twist, startling him out of his wits.

“Cough, cough… Mr. Fox, to pull such a trick at the very end is truly unprincipled…”

Feng Jingzhe, who moments before resembled a lump of battered meat, now miraculously sat upright.

“Heh… heh heh… Mr. Diga, don’t misunderstand. I merely wished to see if you were in mortal danger. Clearly, I was overly concerned. Your body training must have a legacy, I suppose…”

Mr. Fox could not help but think so. To survive such a beating, pounded into the ground like hand-made beef balls, could only be explained by a rare martial art.

“Mr. Fox, let’s skip the pleasantries. Though I didn’t manage to drag things out for a quarter hour, the effect is evident. The promised payment—before so many witnesses—can’t be denied…”

Feng Jingzhe stretched out his “boneless chicken claw,” his manner making it clear he would demand his money even from beyond the grave.

Mr. Fox was momentarily stumped. In truth, he had indeed hoped to renege, but now that he was caught, could he really finish the man off? Worse still, he was pressed for time—the longer the delay, the more Night Rakshasa could recover, which would be disastrous for him.

“Here… five hundred taels…”

“Five hundred taels? That’s daylight robbery! At least split it…”

Feng Jingzhe had calculated that his opponent could not afford to waste time. Mr. Fox, a clever man, knew that to haggle over a bit of silver would only hurt him.

Sure enough, a ten-tael gold note was flung over. Feng Jingzhe snatched it, abandoning all pretense. It was just enough time for him to support himself and stand.

Night Rakshasa watched from the stage. Realizing she’d been played, she cursed herself for not landing a few more full-force blows to the vital spots.

“Miss Rakshasa, I was paid to take the blows for someone else. We have no grievance. Please forgive my offense. Thank you for showing mercy. If opportunity allows, perhaps you’d care to try my family’s secret technique, the ‘Dragon Claw of Milk-Grabbing’…”

His “boneless chicken claw” struck a grabbing pose over his chest, provoking her so much that, were it not for the championship prize, she’d have rushed down and finished him off.

Her rage had no outlet, just as Mr. Fox stepped into the iron cage.

“The man below—you hired him…”

She spat out each word through clenched teeth, as if she had found the true culprit.

“I beg forgiveness, miss. You brought me too much trouble today, so I had no choice but to resort to such tactics…”

“So that despicable, shameless scoundrel was really hired by you…”

“Why be so upset, miss? Since you know I used him to exhaust your strength, do you think I’d let you delay for more recovery…”

But before he finished speaking, Night Rakshasa suddenly struck.

A sidestep and a kick—

Her foot drove straight for his center, and Mr. Fox felt an unprecedented pressure.

Bang—

All his schemes and efforts to wear down her strength were undone in a single move; he was sent flying, blood spraying from his mouth like a fountain.

The most astonished of all was Feng Jingzhe, who had just received his gold note. He regretted not leaving immediately, wishing he could slap himself for being so foolish.

Night Rakshasa leapt from the stage, over seven hundred kilograms of force behind her sudden sneak attack. Feng Jingzhe, caught off guard, could only brace himself.

He crossed his hands, and the massive impact forced him back a dozen steps. His “chicken claws” were now twisted beyond recognition.

“Dragon Claw of Milk-Grabbing! Let’s see how you grab now…”

Anyone called Night Rakshasa was not one to be trifled with. Seeing Feng Jingzhe stop retreating, she charged again.

A flying jump, crashing her elbow—

Such speed was the result of adrenaline surging in the face of a scoundrel. The move was ruthless, a battlefield killing strike with no retreat.

Her iron-hard elbow aimed straight for Feng Jingzhe’s crown. If it landed, he’d be dead on the spot.

Truth be told, Feng Jingzhe had never faced such reckless fighting before.

In desperate moments, there was no thought of counterattack, even though her defenses were wide open. If he did not wish for mutual destruction, he could only defend first. To put it bluntly, the fearful always fall into passivity.

Bang—

Her triangular elbow was blocked by Feng Jingzhe’s twisted chicken claw. As her feet touched the ground, she followed with a left knee strike.

Feng Jingzhe barely raised his hand to block when a right elbow crashed toward his face.

Each move was a relentless attack.

Bang—

Feng Jingzhe was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, landing heavily among the audience.

His Ultraman helmet rolled away.

“You! How can it be you?”

He landed right at the feet of the Zhang Fei mask, and his bloodied face was instantly recognized.

“Commander, Feng… Feng Jingzhe… He’s your fiancé, Feng Jingzhe…”

The one called commander, wearing a Zhao Yun mask, suddenly stood up. Night Rakshasa’s fist crashed down again.

“Out of my way…”

Facing Zhao Yun’s intervention, Night Rakshasa, furious, showed no mercy.

Bang… rip—

Night Rakshasa was sent flying several meters, her concealing headgear torn off.

“Feng Xiaoman! How can it be Feng Xiaoman! Night Rakshasa is Feng Xiaoman!”

The Zhang Fei mask felt his mind spinning; after all this, the two who fought so fiercely on stage were siblings from the Feng family.

Feng Jingzhe lay dazed on the ground, unaware even that his gold note had fallen. He was so stunned by the events that he was convinced his survival must be due to the blessings of generations of Feng ancestors.

Night Rakshasa was his sister. This was the stuff of wild drama.

Clearly, Feng Xiaoman recognized her brother’s blood-stained face. She too was utterly shocked.

“You… idiot! What are you doing here? Why is it you?”

Feng Xiaoman ran over, hysterical, her heart aching at her beloved brother’s battered state.

“Heh… wasn’t it because you needed money for a bride-price? I just came to earn a bit…”

Feng Jingzhe forced a smile, fresh blood bubbling from his lips.

“Fool! How could you be so foolish! With your sister here, when is it ever your turn to worry about the bride-price… sob… look at what you’ve done to yourself… sob…”

“No worries. As long as I don’t die, I’ll be back on my feet in no time…”

Zhao Yun and Zhang Fei masks stared in astonishment. So the siblings had been fighting like dogs in order to raise a respectable bride-price for the Beiming family!

Zhao Yun mask could no longer hold back. She removed her mask, revealing a face of peerless beauty.

“Actually, there’s no need for this. Not anymore! The sincerity of the Feng family—I, Beiming Xuanyue, now understand. This marriage was once uncertain, but now I accept it! To have such a husband is my blessing…”

Only then did the siblings realize that all had been predestined by fate.

Feng Jingzhe’s injuries had mostly healed by now, and he could finally stand and look his new bride in the eye.

A marriage, thus, achieved its perfect ending in the most dramatic manner.

At last, Feng Jingzhe had his wish fulfilled—and began his blissful life.

The story ends.