Chapter 47: Yang Xingyong
Among martial artists, close-range combat undoubtedly tests basic reactions and confirms one's martial arts foundation.
The cultivators of Sanshan City have been leaping over mountains since childhood and fighting lions and tigers, so they are naturally exceptional. Although close-range combat is their ace in the hole, they are also quite confident in it.
However, Jiang Wang's Four Spirit Body Refining Technique is a unique martial art passed down by the military. It was completed by combining the Tai Xu Illusory Realm with the Dao Tai of the Heavenly Platform. At this stage, it is a top-notch body refining technique.
Jiang Wang's muscles are not quite as strong as steel, but they are not far behind. His immense blood and qi are hidden in every muscle, and while they are not usually visible, they explode with unprecedented ferocity in situations like today!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fists and feet, knees and elbows collided.
The two exchanged punches, making a sound like a drum.
This kind of pure hand-to-hand combat was something Jiang Wang had never experienced before. In this kind of battle, he felt the Four Spirit Body Refining Technique gradually merging with his body. Although he had been practicing hard, he was born into a Daoist temple and did not really understand what true body refining was.
In this direct collision, he felt his blood and qi become fuller, his physical body stronger, and his Dao Yuan more lively. He also felt... his opponent's strength gradually weakening.
Boom!In the final headbutt, the cultivator from Sanshan City fell backwards.
It wasn't that he didn't want to continue, but he really couldn't squeeze out any more strength.
Only Jiang Wang, who had fought him, knew how hard he had tried.
Several times, Jiang Wang thought the battle was over, but then his opponent would come back with a punch.
He clearly felt the iron will of this cultivator from Sanshan City.
He tried his best to win.
They didn't want to be called barbarians!
Unfortunately, the more they fought, the more people said, "Look, this is how barbarians are. They don't value their lives."
...
The referee raised his flag, and the winner was declared.
The onlookers were silent for a moment, then erupted into cheers.
After all, this was Maple Forest City, Jiang Wang's home turf. Not to mention the several big men hired by Zhao Rucheng who were shouting their hearts out for the sake of a generous reward. They seemed to care more about Jiang Anan's brother than she did.
Amidst the boiling cheers, Jiang Wang reached out and caught his opponent, not letting him fall to the ground.
"May I ask for your name?" Jiang Wang looked at this admirable opponent, showing his respect.
In fact, before the match began, the referee had announced both names, but Jiang Wang had not bothered to remember them.
Like many ordinary people, although he didn't show it, he had been influenced by the idea of looking down on these so-called "mountain barbarians" since childhood.
The cultivator from Sanshan City was standing unsteadily, with almost all his weight on Jiang Wang's hand. His eyes were swollen and narrowed to a slit.
"Yang Xingyong!" He said happily. "My name is Yang Xingyong!"
...
Outside the arena, Jiang Anan was applauding for her brother when she suddenly heard her best friend's voice. "Anan!"Qingzhi, the little maid, jumped up and down in the crowd, excitedly squeezing her way towards Jiang An'an. An old man followed her, thin and hunched over, but in such a crowded place, they walked smoothly without affecting others.
People were curious about Jiang An'an's friend, especially the little maid who wanted to beat up Jiang Wang.
Huang Azhan's perspective was different from others. He saw the hunchbacked old man first.
The old man's face... was weird. Although he looked serious, he gave people a natural feeling of being sleazy.
Huang Azhan nudged Zhao Rucheng with his arm and whispered, "Hey, look at that old man."
"What's wrong?" Zhao Rucheng asked.
Huang Azhan lowered his voice, "Don't you think his head... looks a lot like...?"
"Like what?"
Huang Azhan didn't speak, he just looked down at his crotch.
Zhao Rucheng was initially wary, "What are you looking at!"
But then he looked over and rubbed his chin, "Hey! It does look a bit like..."
Their conversation suddenly stopped when the hunchbacked old man suddenly looked up and glared at them angrily. He clearly heard their conversation.
"Stop talking, watch the match." Huang Azhan turned his head guiltily and tried to act as if nothing had happened, looking towards the center of the arena.
"Cough, cough." Zhao Rucheng coughed twice and reached out to take Jiang An'an from Linghe's shoulder, placing her on his own shoulder. "An'an, your brother Linghe is tired, sit on my shoulder for a while."
He thought to himself that the old man was so old, he wouldn't beat him up while holding a child, right?
Jiang An'an was now familiar with Zhao Rucheng and didn't care who she was sitting on, happily chatting with Qingzhi.
"My brother just won, he's so amazing!"
...
Yang Xingyong was eventually carried out by someone.
The other two fights had ended early. Another cultivator from Sanshan City had overwhelmingly defeated his opponent from Wangjiang City, while Wangjiang City's Lin Zhengli easily defeated another first-year student from Fenglin City.
But the audience's attention was clearly drawn to the fight between Jiang Wang and Yang Xingyong, after all, it was a fierce fight.
"It's just a weak chicken pecking at each other. Wangjiang City is really blind, even the common people have no vision." Lin Zhengli sneered at the other winner, seeking some recognition.
But the winner from Sanshan City obviously didn't agree.
He coldly said, "Please respect your opponent."
In his opinion, Lin Zhengli not only disrespected Jiang Wang, but also disrespected Yang Xingyong, the cultivator from his Sanshan City.
Lin Zhengli's face turned red and he was even more unhappy in his heart. "Hmph, barbarian."
The cultivators from Sanshan City were about to explode with anger, but they didn't say anything.
After the first round of fights, each city had one winner, and it was considered a draw. The next round was the round-robin stage, and the order was decided by drawing lots. Luck was important in this round.
The judge from the county court was responsible for drawing lots, demonstrating fairness to the greatest extent possible.He took out a slip of paper from the lottery box and read, "Jiang Wang!"
Zhao Rucheng below the stage breathed a sigh of relief, which meant that the first match would be between Lin Zhengli and the Three Mountains City cultivator, and then Jiang Wang would fight each of them separately. Undoubtedly, it was the best result.
Jiang Wang stepped back to the side of the stage and gave up the center position to the two fighters who were about to battle.
As they passed by each other, Lin Zhengli chuckled, "You're lucky to get to stay for one more match."
What he meant was that in the next round, he would defeat Jiang Wang and make him unable to continue fighting. His tone was full of contempt.
Jiang Wang smiled, "I hope you can have some good luck too and meet me again later."
What he meant was that Lin Zhengli might not even make it to the second round and would be defeated in the first round.
In terms of trash-talking, he had learned a lot from Zhao Rucheng, so he wasn't completely defenseless.
But he couldn't understand where Lin Zhengli's hostility towards him came from. Was it because Zhao Rucheng's slogan was too arrogant?
This person didn't seem like someone who spoke their mind. He was a disciple of a legitimate Taoist academy and was sent out as an elite disciple to represent the Wangjiang City Taoist academy in the battle. Would he really lose his temper like this?
In fact, Jiang Wang was very interested in the answer behind this.
As for the battle, he was really fearless.
Compared to Lin Zhengli's frivolous anger, the Three Mountains City cultivator remained silent and just stared at his opponent. His attitude towards the battle was undoubtedly much more serious, indicating that he had a stronger desire for the outcome of the battle.