Translator: Larbre Studio
Editor: Larbre Studio
The fighters outside the ring looked at each other. Li Yan had taken down Cha Chai, the Thai guy, with just a couple moves. No one wanted to face such an opponent.
“Ha ha, young man, Kowloon’s rings only open when there are bets. Just now, someone bet on Cha Chai beating everyone. That’s why you were able to fight. If no one bets on your fight, you have to get out.”
The man who spoke was in a white suit, and was the same man who had managed to name Li Yan’s martial arts technique.
The top of his pink shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a corner of a Yaksha tattoo. His unusually pale face broke into a smile as he fished out a thick wad of cash from his pocket.
“None of these ball-less cowards are a match for you. Do you have the balls to challenge my man? Regardless of who wins, this fifty thousand is yours.”
The Kowloon fighting rings were divided into different levels. The one that Li Yan had just fought was level four. Winning a fight in that ring would earn him five thousand Hong Kong dollars. The man in the white suit had offered fifty thousand right off the bat. Li Yan would have to win ten matches in order to earn that much.
This was Hong Kong in 1986, when a bowl of cart noodles cost ten dollars and a pack of Marlboros cost twenty. Fifty thousand was an astronomical sum.
At first, Li Yan wasn’t tempted by fifty thousand Hong Kong dollars. After all, he would only be there for a month. And whether or not he would live to spend the money was a whole different story. But as his vision shifted towards the fifty thousand dollars, rows of numbers appeared before his eyes.
Fifty thousand Hong Kong dollars. Precious objects can be exchanged for five Yanfu Points. The class of the object must be verified as in your possession before it can be exchanged.
Even just a few Yanfu points were something to be desired.
The small-eyed, arrogant, fat man came running over with a wide smile on his face.
“Brother Jiu, Brother Jiu!”
The man in the white suit did not even bother to look at him. He continued to stare at Li Yan in the ring.
“Well, will you fight?”
“Brother Jiu.” The fat man was covered in cold sweat, but he still forced a smile.
“If Brother Jiu is happy and would like to bet on a fight, you can choose any one of our fighters! I’ll get these bastards to fight for you right away! But sending your men into the ring is… is against the rules.”
Brother Jiu finally shifted his gaze to the fatty’s greasy face. His tone was hostile. “Is your brain rusty? You want me to spend fifty thousand watching a level four trash fight? What do you take me, Huashan Jiu, for? A fool?”
“Brother Jiu, I wouldn’t dare…” He wanted to continue, but was cut short by Huashan Jiu.
“Enough from you. I just want to send my man in to have some fun! And I’m paying more than enough. Which of the association’s rules prevent an outsider from getting in the ring? If Grand Duke is unhappy, I’ll apologize to him, eh? Now get lost while I’m still in a good mood.”
The fat man was in a dilemma. Huashan Jiu’s seat was surrounded by forty to fifty mean-looking thugs, all glaring at him threateningly. He stole a glance at the association’s registration worker, who nodded his head knowingly and snuck off.
“Young man, you’re in luck!”
He gritted his teeth, walked up to Li Yan, and whispered, “This man is the one who really calls the shots in He Lian Sheng. Put on a good show, then take a few punches and lie down on the ground. That will earn you fifty thousand, understand?”
Li Yan blinked. “You mean he’s from the triads?”
“Wake up, you’re on your own now.”
“Alright.”
Li Yan’s expression was calm. Though his status display showed words like “high temperature,””hemorrhage,” and “inflammation,” he knew they were all caused by his leukaemia.
In general, the condition of his body was actually very poor. Not only was he feeling weak, he occasionally had unexplained bleeding from his gums and nose. Once he had even fainted during training.
But Li Yan was now in a peak physical condition that he had not experienced in months. The feeling of each punch colliding with flesh, the salty and metallic taste of blood in his mouth–all of these tugged on the rage deep within his heart. It was the unparalleled feeling of being alive.
Huashan Jiu smirked. He placed his hand on the shoulder of the young, freckled man next to him.
“Zhou, I know you can’t wait. Get in the ring and have some fun with this Eight Trigram Palm master.”
Zhou was not very tall. He wore his hair neat and short and had a fire in his eyes. He got to his feet but didn’t use the walkway. With a flip, he leapt from the viewing platform and stepped up into the ring.
Huashan Jiu looked at Zhou with a cold expression on his face, then smiled and shook his head. This little brother of his came from Shandong. He was also a practitioner of traditional Wushu, but not the kind that could be learned in three to five years of flashy moves. He had immersed himself in this art for over a decade and was more than qualified to take on his own students at any martial arts school in Hong Kong. His skills were formidable, and he was Huashan Jiu’s trusted underling.
In his earlier years, Zhou had once sparred with an Eight Trigram Palm master and lost badly, suffering five broken ribs and loss of hearing in his right ear. This was why, after so many years, he had always wanted a rematch with someone who had inherited the Eight Trigram Palm art, in order to avenge himself. But Eight Trigram Palm was only common the Beijing and Tianjin regions. In Hong Kong, Eight Trigram Palm schools were practically non-existent.
Within Kowloon, Huashan Jiu actually did know a legitimate successor of the Eight Trigram Palm art. But even if he’d had the heart of a lion, he would not dare to ask him to spar with his brother…
Standing in the ring, Zhou cupped his hand in greeting. Instead of looking like a thug from the triad, he looked more like an old-school traditional martial artist.
“Dujia Fist, Zhou Weitao. Please.”
Li Yan glanced at him.
“Hejian, Li Yan.”
Zhou’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly as a sliver of anger flashed across his eyes. With a quick step forward, he thrust his elbow straight at Li Yan’s chest!
Li Yan casually retreated half a step, avoiding most of Zhou’s elbow. He raised his left arm to redirect it, simultaneously kicking Zhou’s shin with his right leg.
The moment Li Yan contacted Zhou’s elbow, he felt the exerted force suddenly retract, which surprised him.
“Pretty interesting.”
Zhou’s eyes lit up. Turning his body around with his footwork, he avoided Li Yan’s kick and swung his left fist down diagonally like a hammer towards Li Yan’s temple!
Li Yan narrowed his eyes. Instead of retreating, he advanced. Shifting his weight to his front foot, he crashed towards Zhou’s body. At the same time, his right hand became a claw latching onto Zhou’s wrist which came at him from a 60 degree angle. His intention was to break Zhou’s wrist.
Dujia Fist is a form of martial arts that branched off from traditional Hong Fist, and its specialty was capturing techniques and elbow strikes. Right now, Li Yan was using a wrist-capturing technique against him. Zhou smiled coldly.
He ignored the left hand that Li Yan had captured and instead bent down to aim for Li Yan’s crotch.
Li Yan reacted quickly, meeting the attack with his knee and shocking back Zhou’s palm. At the same time, he twisted outwards and sideways with his right hand, intending to break Zhou’s left arm.
To his surprise, he felt a strange force transmitted through his right hand. Despite exerting force, Li Yan found that he could not move Zhou’s left hand even an inch. Zhou’s right hand was already making its way towards Li Yan’s chin in an uppercut.
“A master!”
At that moment, Li Yan finally acknowledged that this little thug in the underground Kowloon fighting rings was actually a master who could perform the intricacies of Dujia Fist’s moves.
He dropped Zhou’s wrist and retreated hastily.
Huashan Jiu leaned forward in his seat, eyes fixed on the ring. Seeing Li Yan retreat, his tightly clenched fists finally relaxed.
In the ring, Zhou glared coldly at Li Yan. Then he slowly said, “You’re pretty arrogant, aren’t you?”
Li Yan smiled. “I just didn’t expect that a mere triad thug would actually be a Dujia Fist master. Such a pity that legitimate skills of Wensheng Fist would end up in the wrong hands.”
These words seem to have struck a sore spot in Zhou. He spat and then laughed coldly at Li Yan.
“You’re a murderer from China and an illegal citizen in Kowloon. What right do you have to say that my skills are in the wrong hands? If Dong Haichuan knew he had such a grand-disciple, I fear he would crawl out of his grave to clean up his lineage.”
Li Yan paid no heed to Zhou’s taunts. He simply replied while smiling, “I’ll have to start getting serious, then.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
The moment those words left Zhou’s mouth, Li Yan, who was at least five paces away, suddenly closed the distance to be right in front of him. That pale and cold face was closing in on him before his very eyes!
He moved like a ghost!
At that moment, a clear voice rang out.
“What a rare occasion it is for Brother Jiu to be here in Kowloon to watch the fighting rings. I hadn’t heard the news that executives of Heliansheng had become customers of Kowloon City.”
These words captured the attention of everyone outside the ring.
From the hall, thirty men had arrived dressed in identical black suits, wearing mean expressions, and toting guns on their hips.
Huashan Jiu saw the scene, and his face darkened.