Chapter Sixty-Three: Old Family Ties

Yang Ru gingerly stepped down from the stage, and Han Yang hurried to support her, asking with concern, “Are you alright?”

“My bone feels like it’s cracked.” Yang Ru’s face was pale with pain—this was the worst defeat she had ever suffered since beginning her martial training.

If there hadn’t been so many people around, she might have burst into tears.

In the nearby rest area, Han Yang performed a simple examination; her shinbone was badly swollen and it was hard to tell if there was a crack or fracture.

Normally, a martial artist’s shinbone is the hardest part. With Yang Ru’s skill, even kicking an iron bar wouldn’t usually break it.

Moreover, Gao Wu had only casually blocked her attack—he hadn’t even used any force.

Han Yang thought that Yang Ru simply wasn’t used to hardship, which was why her reaction seemed so dramatic. He tried to reassure her, “Don’t worry. Even if it is broken, you’ll be fully healed in less than two months.”

“Has that guy undergone some kind of enhancement surgery? Why on earth is his arm so hard?!” Yang Ru muttered under her breath.

“He’s only eighteen, with a limitless future ahead. There’s no way he’d destroy his own foundation with surgery,” Han Yang shook his head. “He probably injected the Vajra Serum.”

Just twenty days ago, Gao Wu had struggled to defeat Mad Dog, but now his strength and physical resilience had clearly improved. Only the Vajra Serum could produce such results.

“I don’t see it,” Yang Ru shook her head. The Vajra Serum was a tyrannical drug—after injection, there were bound to be side effects. Yet she saw no abnormalities in Gao Wu.

“Some people just have exceptional drug tolerance. That’s nothing unusual.” Han Yang, worldly and knowledgeable, wasn’t surprised.

To be honest, he was envious of such talent. These days, with powerful serums available, anyone with enough money could inject all sorts of enhancement drugs. Especially at the warrior level, every step forward was a struggle.

If you could borrow the power of medicine, you could save countless hours of effort. Gao Wu’s rapid progress was thanks to this. And for Gao Wu to obtain so many serums, it must have been Song Mingyue helping him!

Han Yang glanced at Song Mingyue standing at the corner of the stage. With her large dark sunglasses, her expression was unreadable. Just her aloof posture projected a chill that kept everyone at arm’s length. Han Yang couldn’t understand how such a cold, distant girl could treat Gao Wu so well.

Nearby, Bai Yushuang was also watching Gao Wu with great interest. This online celebrity youth was far stronger than she’d anticipated. Perhaps she’d have a chance to face him in the semifinals.

Bai Man, following her niece’s gaze, saw nothing noteworthy. “What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Just looking around,” Bai Yushuang replied. She knew her aunt’s temperament—Bai Man had no regard for lower-level martial artists—so she didn’t mention Gao Wu.

Bai Man pointed toward the central arena. “Don’t waste your energy on irrelevant matters. The one you should pay attention to is General Song Chunqiu.”

“General Song is here?” Bai Yushuang was a little surprised. Following her aunt’s pointing finger, she immediately spotted Song Chunqiu.

This general of the Aurora Corps and grandmaster of martial arts stood tall with cropped silver hair, distinguished features, and a lean frame. His black uniform was impeccably pressed, and his hands clasped behind his back exuded quiet authority.

The respectful circle around him only emphasized his extraordinary presence.

“What brings him here?” Bai Yushuang asked with curiosity.

Although the Xuetao Cup was sponsored and named by the Song family, it was actually organized by the Dongjiang municipal department. Normally, a figure like Song Chunqiu would only make an appearance for the final match.

“This is the fiftieth Xuetao Cup—a milestone. It’s perfectly normal for General Song to show up early,” Bai Man said softly, her eyes on Song Chunqiu in the distance. “In a bit, I’ll take you over to meet him.”

“Uh, is that really necessary?” Bai Yushuang hesitated. Even as a direct descendant of the Bai family, she held little weight before the Song family’s martial grandmaster. Going out of her way to introduce herself seemed pointless.

“You don’t understand. Just meeting and exchanging a few words is a connection. That’s how networks are built.” Bai Man shot her niece a stern look. She was always eager for trivial matters, but shrank from anything important—what a useless attitude!

“Yes, yes, I was wrong. I’ll do as you say.” Bai Yushuang conceded instantly.

After watching the first arena for a while, Song Chunqiu moved on with his entourage to the next ring, pausing at each to observe the matches.

When Song Chunqiu arrived at the ninth arena, Bai Man led Bai Yushuang over to greet him.

“Grandmaster Song, I’m Bai Man from the Bai family. Over ten years ago, I accompanied my brother to see you,” Bai Man said, bowing respectfully.

No matter how proud she might be, she would never put on airs before a martial grandmaster—especially one like Song Chunqiu, direct heir of the Song family, wielding great power and influence throughout the Northern Province.

Song Chunqiu’s silver brows rose slightly. “Ah, Ms. Bai. What brings you to Dongjiang?”

Song Chunqiu’s bearing was elegant, but his voice was deep and powerful.

Bai Man smiled deferentially, “I brought my niece to participate in the Xuetao Cup.”

“Bai Yan’s daughter?” Song Chunqiu glanced at the tall Bai Yushuang and saw traces of Bai Yan in her, especially her healthy, sun-kissed complexion.

“Yes, she’s eighteen this year and a martial artist. I brought her to the Xuetao Cup for some real combat experience…”

Bai Yushuang bowed deeply. “Hello, Uncle Song.”

Song Chunqiu sighed, “So Bai Yan’s daughter is already grown.”

He said to Bai Yushuang, “Your father is a friend of mine. If you need anything in Dongjiang, come find me.”

“Thank you, Uncle Song.”

There were quite a few cameras in the martial arts hall, several of which focused on Song Chunqiu, the most important figure present. Footage was broadcast live online; Lü Hongsheng and Huang Hai watched via projection.

Huang Hai frowned, “Why did Song Chunqiu arrive so early?”

“It’s the fiftieth Xuetao Cup—meaningful for the Song family. I heard the championship prize is more generous this year,” Lü Hongsheng replied. “Why, do you think there’s a problem?”

“It’s hard to say. Gao Wu and Song Mingyue are awfully close.” Huang Hai shook his head, paused, then added, “Zhang Hao couldn’t track us down. If anything happens, I’ll hear about it.”

Lü Hongsheng said, “Records show Song Mingyue bet a million on Gao Wu winning the championship. She has a lot of faith in him—and wants to make a profit off us.”

“From that alone, it seems the Song family is clean.”

“If they really wanted to move against us, Song Mingyue wouldn’t bother betting. And with the odds, the payout is well within what the house can cover—she’s quite precise.”

“If there were really plans afoot, Song Chunqiu would never appear in public.”

As they spoke, they saw Song Chunqiu and his group move to the tenth arena, where staff rushed up to greet him. Gao Wu and Song Mingyue stood at the edge of the screen, looking like bystanders.

“Does Song Chunqiu not recognize his own granddaughter?” Lü Hongsheng found it strange—it defied common sense.

Just as Huang Hai was about to comment, Song Chunqiu on the screen parted the crowd and waved Song Mingyue over.

“Grandfather,” Song Mingyue greeted softly and fell silent. She made no move to introduce Gao Wu.

Instead, Gao Wu took the initiative, smiling, “Grandpa Song, I’m Gao Wu, Mingyue’s friend—a good friend.”

Song Chunqiu glanced at his granddaughter, then at Gao Wu, and nodded courteously.

He then turned to Song Mingyue. “I’m staying at Zhongyuan. Come over for dinner tonight.”

“Yes,” Song Mingyue nodded gently.

Watching this through the broadcast, Lü Hongsheng and Huang Hai finally relaxed. They couldn’t hear the conversation, but this kind of interaction seemed normal.

Lü Hongsheng told Huang Hai, “If Gao Wu really makes it to the finals, raise his odds to attract more bets. You handle him.”

“He’s stubborn and won’t be persuaded. If it comes to it, we’ll just use an underhanded move and injure him,” Huang Hai replied.

All they needed was Gao Wu’s intact body. Briefly injuring his limbs would halve his fighting ability without affecting his usefulness.

Any criticism or trouble that followed would fall on Gao Wu. They could always accuse him of deliberately throwing the match for personal gain.

As for Song Chunqiu, the earlier conversation made it clear—he didn’t really know Gao Wu and wouldn’t pay special attention to him.

Once Song Chunqiu left, they’d have a chance to deal with Gao Wu. Whatever happened, Gao Wu would take the blame.

Of course, Huang Hai’s current identity could no longer be used. His ties to Gao Wu were too close—too easily suspected.

Fortunately, the job was done. Huang Hai could just assume a new identity elsewhere.

Song Chunqiu made a circuit and soon departed, while the preliminary rounds continued in full swing.

Gao Wu won his third and fourth matches easily. In the fifth round, he faced Yu Yulong.

Yu Yulong had ape-like arms and a wasp-thin waist, was quite handsome, and sported dyed white hair—an eccentric look. His only flaw was his height; standing before Gao Wu, he was immediately overshadowed.

Yu Yulong felt some fear toward Gao Wu—he kept circling and retreating. Gao Wu wasn’t in a hurry, just following him steadily.

Having just finished her match, Bai Yushuang sidled up to Song Mingyue, saying with a light laugh, “You’re Song Mingyue, right? You know, our families are old friends. My father and your grandfather are close. Just call me Aunt Bai.”

Song Mingyue turned her head to glance at the grinning Bai Yushuang. The girl’s enthusiasm was reminiscent of Gao Wu, as was her cheeky manner, but Gao Wu’s sincerity was genuine—from the heart.

As for Bai Yushuang, her humor was just playful and reckless. At such a young age, she already treated life as a game—at her core, she simply didn’t take others seriously. It was arrogance, a kind of frivolity.

Song Mingyue disliked people like her. She ignored Bai Yushuang and continued to watch the match quietly.

Bai Yushuang glanced at the ring, her eyes lighting up. “He’s actually practicing White Ape Fist. Those ape arms and that wasp waist—he’s got the stance down, not bad.”

Yu Yulong’s movements were agile and nimble, springing left and right like a gibbon, his evasions elegant and unrestrained even within the confines of the small ring.

But before Bai Yushuang could finish her thought, Gao Wu suddenly lunged forward, launching a barrage of rapid punches at Yu Yulong.

Gao Wu’s assault was fierce, the force of his blows tumultuous—it was the “Sunrise” variation of the Soaring Dragon Palm.

“Sunrise” meant the clouds had parted, the sky was vast and clear, sunlight blazing through unhindered—open and direct, victory through sheer strength. The movements were powerful and overwhelming, the momentum grand.

Yu Yulong, though agile, had nowhere to escape. He managed to block two punches before his arms felt on the verge of breaking, pain driving him back step by step.

Spotting an opening, Gao Wu swept his leg high. Yu Yulong hastily covered his head with both arms, hunching over and curling up tightly.

This move, “Startled White Ape,” gathered all the body’s strength into a compact ball, using the opponent’s force to roll backward, both neutralizing the attack and retreating by borrowing the force—a subtle transformation within the White Ape Fist.

Bai Yushuang, watching from below, couldn’t help but praise, “Beautiful!”

But before she’d finished, Yu Yulong was sent flying like a ball by Gao Wu’s kick, crashing into the glass wall with a resounding bang. He landed dazed and limp, his eyes unfocused.

Bai Yushuang’s expression changed instantly. That kick of Gao Wu’s, simple as it was, was outrageously fierce and violent—Yu Yulong’s guard was utterly blown apart, leaving his very soul nearly shattered.

Meanwhile, Gao Wu stood calm and composed, as if he hadn’t even exerted himself. Such overwhelming power was already on par with her own!

She marveled inwardly: “In little Dongjiang, there really is such a formidable youth! Heroes truly are as numerous as the fish in the river…”