Chapter Sixty-Four: The Brotherhood of Passionate Youth (Tenth Update)

Bai Yushuang, having witnessed Gao Wu’s skill, lost all interest in teasing Song Mingyue. When she saw Gao Wu descending from the stage, she spoke with genuine seriousness, “I admit I underestimated you.”

Gao Wu responded with a carefree smile, “A pretty stranger, your opinion hardly matters.”

“You’re quite proud. I hope you have the strength to match your pride.” Bai Yushuang didn’t take offense. She gestured goodbye to Song Mingyue and turned to leave.

Once Bai Yushuang was gone, Shen Yue scurried up to Gao Wu and asked in a low voice, “Who is she? She looks incredibly strong.”

“Don’t go filming her recklessly. She’s from a prestigious family—one word from her and your account could be shut down,” Gao Wu reminded him. Gao Wu wasn’t afraid of Bai Yushuang, but he couldn’t let that woman appear on his Kuaishin account.

Shen Yue, ever timid, was immediately alarmed. “I’ll delete everything,” he promised hastily. Yet he couldn’t help sneaking another glance at Bai Yushuang. “She’s really pretty—and so cool.”

“You’d have to stand on tiptoe just to kiss her. Best not to get ideas,” Gao Wu chuckled.

Shen Yue bristled at that. “The love of beauty is universal! I’m just admiring her—you’re truly shameless!”

In the fifth round, Gao Wu easily dispatched another unknown opponent, thus concluding the preliminaries.

The next day brought the semifinals, with all participants gathering at the Dongjiang Martial Arts Hall. Eight arenas were set up, each with thirty-two contestants, divided into two brackets; only the winner of each group would advance.

Gao Wu was assigned to the eighth bracket. Scanning the list, he saw only one familiar name—Mad Dog. Neither Han Yang nor Bai Yushuang were in his group.

With the semifinals, the crowd swelled. Even tickets costing thirty or fifty yuan couldn’t dampen their enthusiasm. The venue, which could seat over twenty thousand, was packed to capacity.

In truth, watching live wasn’t as clear as watching the broadcast—the arena was split into eight rings, each with a giant screen showing the fights.

But nothing matched the live atmosphere, which was electric. It was still the New Year period, and most people were on holiday. With the chill in Dongjiang and little else to do, coming to the martial arts hall for excitement was the perfect choice.

The area around the eighth ring was especially crowded. Everyone was curious about the internet celebrity youth.

With three million followers, Gao Wu could be called Dongjiang’s top influencer. His striking good looks, his mysterious and cold allure, and his past feat of slaying a demon cultist all added to his appeal; everyone wanted to see what he would do in the ring.

Some young girls even waved custom-made flags emblazoned with six words: “Supreme Gao Saint, Number One!”

Shen Yue, filming material on his phone, spotted one of these girls. She was wearing a white down jacket and a fluffy bunny hat, looking charming and sweet. Several other girls with matching flags stood with her—obviously friends.

Summoning his courage, Shen Yue approached. “Hi, I’m Gao Wu’s cameraman. May I interview you?”

The girl beamed, “Wonderful! I’m a huge fan of Gao Saint!” She waved her flag enthusiastically.

“We all adore Gao Saint!”

“Gao Saint is my idol!”

The girls laughed and chatted, lively and bright.

“Um, don’t you think calling him ‘Number One’ is a bit much?” Shen Yue asked.

“Everyone is unique. Gao Saint only claims to be Number One—not invincible. There’s a difference!” The girl’s expression grew serious. “Gao Saint does good deeds without asking for reward—that’s kindness. He writes songs—that’s wisdom. He stands up to evil with courage—that’s bravery. He’s sunny, cheerful, and positive—that’s beauty. He inspires others toward goodness—that’s virtue.

“Kindness, virtue, wisdom, courage, and beauty—he embodies them all. To us, he truly is Number One! We’re his forever fans—the Passionate Youth League!”

“Wow, that’s beautifully put.” Shen Yue was a little surprised. These girls seemed a year or two younger than him, and though their words were a bit exaggerated, they spoke with logic and conviction—truly impressive.

As fans, they were undoubtedly die-hard supporters.

Shen Yue felt a mix of admiration, envy, and jealousy. In just two months, Gao Wu had amassed such high-quality, devoted fans!

He’d been at it for years, and his so-called fans were just classmates who followed him for laughs. He grumbled inwardly—damn, people really can’t be compared!

Gao Wu took the stage, and the arena erupted in cheers, particularly the shrill screams of some girls—so loud it was almost deafening.

He noticed the group with the “Supreme Gao Saint, Number One” banners and, pleasantly surprised, waved at the girls.

They responded with excited jumps and shouts.

His opponent’s face darkened—was this kid here to show off? With a roar, the man lunged at Gao Wu with a fierce punch.

Gao Wu casually stepped back, the man’s fist missing his face by just five centimeters—so close, yet out of reach.

Such precise distance control showcased Gao Wu’s mastery of spatial awareness—a clear advantage over his opponent. The man’s powerful punch, missing by just a few centimeters, left him frustrated.

He tried to change tactics, but Gao Wu’s leg swept up like a heavy axe, striking the man’s neck. The force knocked the man out instantly, sending him toppling to the ground.

Gao Wu grabbed the man’s collar just in time to keep him from breaking his nose on the floor.

The fight ended in less than a second. Gao Wu’s clean, decisive victory left his fans momentarily stunned, their cheers pausing for a heartbeat—then swelling even louder, drowning out all other noise in the arena.

The leading girls began singing in unison: “Youth has its wildness, hearts burn like the blazing sun. Righteousness and courage rise high, passionate youth unmatched under heaven!”

The lyrics were catchy, the rhythm simple and stirring. As Gao Wu’s videos spread, the song became widely known—especially among the young, for whom it was practically an anthem.

With someone leading, soon a great crowd joined in, more humming along—the four lines repeating, the volume growing with each cycle.

The broadcast director took notice, instantly replaying the fight on the official website and across the eight giant screens for everyone to see.

To reach the semifinals, all contestants were at least high-level martial artists, yet Gao Wu had felled his opponent with ease. The subtlety and ferocity of his kick embodied the violent beauty unique to martial arts.

Roars and applause thundered through the audience. This was the kind of victory they had come to see.

The high-spirited chorus heated the atmosphere to a fever pitch, even those watching the livestream couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement.

The organizing committee was delighted. The Xuetao Cup had a long history, but it still needed ratings. The early rounds had lacked highlights; Gao Wu’s explosive appearance was perfectly timed.

Bai Yushuang watched the replay on screen, her expression growing more thoughtful.

Amateurs watched for spectacle; insiders watched for skill.

In martial arts terms, a “martial artist” was still an amateur. Only those who had refined their source power to become true warriors had truly entered the path. No matter how much ordinary people loved martial arts, they remained hobbyists, spectators of the excitement.

Bai Yushuang had trained under a master since childhood. Though only a top-level martial artist herself, her vision surpassed most true warriors.

A flashy knockout wasn’t impressive in itself. What truly mattered was Gao Wu’s sense of timing and control—whether in his retreat or the force of his kick, everything was measured, nothing excessive, each move perfectly executed.

His opponent was physically strong. To achieve such an effect, Gao Wu’s leg must have been as hard as steel.

This showed that Gao Wu’s strength and physical conditioning were both at the highest level—and his speed as well. On a compact ring, these advantages were overwhelming.

Previously, she had thought she could handle Gao Wu and had the leisure to appreciate his skills. Now, sensing the threat he posed, all she could think about was how to neutralize him.

As for the passionate, adolescent song—she had to admit, when a crowd sang together, all that was left was burning blood and excitement! Standing amidst it, even she felt her hair stand on end, her entire being electrified.

In the second round, Gao Wu ended the match with a dazzling, almost showy spinning kick, knocking out his opponent with a blow to the ear. The whole fight took less than ten seconds, drawing wild cheers and pushing the livestream viewership up by another percentage point.

The official website gave Gao Wu a prominent spot, broadcasting his matches live.

In the third round, Gao Wu’s flurry of punches knocked his opponent unconscious—another swift victory that pushed the Xuetao Cup’s ratings to a new peak.

In the final match, Gao Wu faced Mad Dog.

Mad Dog, having struggled to reach the fourth round, was red-faced and wild-eyed—but without a drop of sweat. The keratin regeneration technique that toughened his skin had destroyed his sweat glands, so he could only pant with his mouth wide open, like a dog, to cool down.

Gao Wu almost pitied him. With a smile, he said, “We meet again. Need a breath before we start? I’m not in a hurry.”

Mad Dog, having injected himself with several boosters to advance, was now barely lucid. He couldn’t even comprehend Gao Wu’s words—he only wanted to tear him apart.

With a snarl, Mad Dog lunged, unleashing a barrage of punches like bullets. Gao Wu met him head-on, responding with rapid punches of his own.

He didn’t know Mad Dog’s “assault gun fist,” and his flurry of punches wasn’t as smooth or explosive, but his fists were harder and faster—more than enough to go blow for blow.

The “assault gun fist” was known for its speed and ferocity; in the blink of an eye, the two traded dozens of punches.

With no gloves, blood spattered with every impact—the high-definition cameras caught it all.

It was a raw, almost primitive brawl—no finesse, just brute force. And that primal violence had a direct, visceral appeal.

The crowd went wild, cheering and shouting, ignoring the other rings entirely—their eyes fixed on the eighth ring and the two combatants trading insane punches.

When Mad Dog’s dulled nerves finally realized something was wrong, his fists were already a bloody mess, finger bones shattered. He felt no pain, but his hands were useless.

He was stunned—how had he lost to Gao Wu in a slugging match?

Before he could make sense of it, Gao Wu’s powerful kick struck him behind the ear like a heavy axe. Hard as his bones and skin were, nothing could withstand the force of two thousand kilograms behind that leg.

Mad Dog was sent spinning, crashing headfirst into the ground and falling silent.

The referee checked Mad Dog—he was still breathing—and signaled for the staff to carry him away.

Standing in the ring, Gao Wu raised his arms to the crowd, and the chorus of “Youth has its wildness” thundered from tens of thousands, echoing through the dome and reverberating across the city.

With a series of decisive victories in the semifinals, Gao Wu made a name for himself before his hometown. Once merely an internet celebrity, he was now recognized as a martial arts prodigy.

The infectious singing in the arena seared Gao Wu’s image into everyone’s memory.

Watching the broadcast from the Jinsheng Hotel, Huang Hai sneered—this kid really knew how to show off.

Lv Hongsheng, smiling, told his subordinate, “Keep his odds high—let all the money come in…”

(Ten chapters complete! Please vote and support—everyone, let’s charge ahead!)