Three and a Half Fists

It is said that when kicking, the foot should not rise above the knee; if it does, the lower body is left exposed, making it vulnerable to attacks. But when employing a technique meant for a decisive kill, such concerns are irrelevant.

Du Ruo had no desire to receive such a deadly move, nor even to block it. With a single step and a twist of his body, he evaded it altogether.

The blond man was unfazed by his missed kick. He immediately spun around, launching a fierce knee strike straight at Du Ruo.

Du Ruo extended his hands, his left palm pressed atop his right, channeling the power of the Dragon Form from Xingyi Quan through his spine. He struck the blond man's thigh, forcing it downward, breaking the momentum of the knee just as it was forming.

With his knee strike thwarted, the blond man swiftly chopped at Du Ruo’s shoulder with a hand blade. Not stopping there, he readied his other hand for another attack.

Seeing this, Du Ruo withdrew his hands, which had been poised for a groin strike, bringing one up and one down to guard his chest in the Tuo Form of Xingyi Quan—a rare stance in the art, balancing offense and defense. The force from his hips powered his upper body, and his palms moved as if stirring water, smacking the blond man's arms, dissolving the hand blade strikes in a continuous flow.

The blond man's second hand chop was similarly deflected.

His "Arrow Step Kill" was dodged, his knee strike was broken, and three consecutive hand blade attacks were neutralized. As the saying goes, the first attack is fierce, the second weaker, and the third exhausted. After three failed assaults, the blond man's momentum dropped to nothing. His breathing and rhythm faltered, leaving a brief opening.

This was the flaw Du Ruo had been waiting for. After blocking the three hand blades, Du Ruo swung his left hand toward the blond man's face. Thinking it was an eye poke, the blond man instinctively raised his arms to protect himself. Yet Du Ruo’s left hand merely swept past his eyes, nothing more. Realizing he’d been tricked, the blond man hurriedly pressed his arms down to shield his chest.

But it was already too late. While obscuring the blond man's vision, Du Ruo’s right hand formed a cannon fist and smashed into his opponent’s abdomen.

Du Ruo had aimed for the chest, but the blond man was nearly twenty centimeters taller than Du Ruo, who was just under two meters. So the blow landed on the abdomen instead.

Striking the abdomen rarely has much effect, even with the heavy force of a cannon fist. Boxers often train to withstand blows to the stomach; as long as they tense their muscles, they can endure considerable force.

But Du Ruo's attack did not end there. Xingyi Quan's strikes are relentless and stable. After the cannon fist, Du Ruo’s right hand was pressed down by the blond man, but his left hand shot out again, this time in an eagle's claw (a fist with the index finger protruding), drilling into the blond man's abdomen, this time three fingers higher to target the chest center acupoint.

Though the blond man did not block this blow, he defended against it. His arms clamped Du Ruo’s left hand in the middle, and he pulled his torso back, distancing his chest center from Du Ruo’s fist.

“Ha, that's exactly what I wanted,” Du Ruo said with a smile.

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Du Ruo kept a smile on his face. Tensing the abdomen makes punches ineffective, but there are two solutions: one is to strike the acupoint with a drilling fist, causing pain that forces the opponent to relax; the other is to make the opponent retreat, which also prevents them from tensing their abdomen.

The drilling fist belongs to water, fluid and adaptable. Du Ruo’s trapped arm suddenly straightened, his feet, hips, and back exerting force as he unleashed the Horse Form's crashing fist. His body rose like a wild steed, and his left fist struck the blond man’s chest like a hoof.

“Ah!!”

The blond man's eyes bulged as his stomach churned, food rising to his throat. Du Ruo’s blow landed precisely when the blond man's abdominal tension dissipated. Though his muscles were thick, without tension they were useless, and the pain forced a scream from him.

Du Ruo did not stop. His intention was to give his opponent a lesson as he practiced.

He stepped forward, his right hand swinging in a horizontal fist to strike the blond man's right lower ribs. Last time, Du Ruo had lightly tapped Li Qiyao’s boyfriend on this spot, causing him to cry out and clutch the area. Now, Du Ruo hit the same place—a soft spot, impossible for even the best boxers or karate practitioners to train.

The blond man's scream abruptly ceased, his hand moved from his abdomen to his waist, and he slowly collapsed sideways, curling up like a shrimp. The pain was so intense his mouth opened wide, yet not a sound escaped.

Such a punch is known among boxers as a "liver blow," capable of breaking four ribs in one strike.

But Du Ruo had not used a liver blow—just a horizontal fist with the back of his hand, not too forceful. He maximized the pain and let the power penetrate, but did not damage the ribs.

Du Ruo had just used three and a half punches: first, the cannon fist to the abdomen, which would only leave a red mark; second, the crashing fist, landing higher on the abdomen but avoiding the chest center acupoint. The blond man's solid muscles meant the crashing fist would not cause internal or external injury, just a few days’ rest needed. Third was the horizontal fist to the soft ribs; usually only painful, not injurious, but Du Ruo had let the force seep in. That area guards the liver, intestines, and kidneys—the liver is protected by ribs, the intestines by fat and resilience, but the kidneys are left vulnerable.

If the blond man doesn’t pass blood in five to seven days, Du Ruo will write his surname backwards, and there’s no way to trace it back to Du Ruo. Hospitals may find only external injuries, and traditional medicine cannot provide forensic evidence. Of course, Du Ruo was only threatening him; he could cripple a kidney or injure it lightly, but he couldn’t make it fail days later.

The half punch was the drilling fist; if the opponent’s abdomen hadn’t contracted, Du Ruo would have kept striking the chest center acupoint. But since the abdomen tensed, he changed tactics—thus, only half a punch. This was a deliberate plan.

The battle sounded complicated, but in reality it took only seconds. The blond man made three moves, Du Ruo three and a half punches, and the blond man was down. His companions hadn’t even had time to cheer him on—they could only gape in astonishment, staring at Du Ruo and their fallen comrade.

“This place does not welcome you. Xiao Ling, process their check-out. The damaged fence will be charged to them, and at full price for the entire fence. You may leave now,” Du Ruo said to the blond man’s companions.

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“Impressive, cough cough, I’ve learned something. I’ll seek your guidance again next time.”

Du Ruo had held back, so the blond man was not seriously injured. He now understood the gap between himself and Du Ruo. Supported by his companions, his eyes had cleared; gone was the excitement and impulsiveness from his previous fight with the mantis fist man. He obediently followed Yang Ling to pack up and check out.

“Back to your business, all of you. If you fight here again, you’ll be kicked out,” Du Ruo said to the mantis fist man, though his tone was much softer. After all, he was a fellow countryman, and Du Ruo’s intervention was not without the intent of helping him vent his anger.

“Wang Lang, ninth-generation successor of Plum Blossom Mantis Fist. Thank you for your assistance, elder.”

Wang Lang, the mantis fist man, cupped his fists respectfully toward Du Ruo.

“Enough with the formalities. I practice rustic techniques, not some master’s art. Get back to your business. You look to have only superficial wounds—won’t hinder your mountain climbing. If you don’t go now, you’ll have to queue.”

Du Ruo waved him off. He had intended to ask about the cause of their conflict, but he’d lost interest after Wang Lang’s overly formal speech, which made his skin crawl.

With that, Du Ruo strode outside, Qiangzi trotting after him.

“When you come down the mountain this afternoon, I’ll pay you a visit!” Wang Lang called after Du Ruo. He wasn’t stupid; Du Ruo was obviously a master, so how could he let this chance slip by? He had to find an excuse to get closer.

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