Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Chapter 68 Grudges

Liu Changqing and his disciples from Guangchang sat in the northwest corner.

He sat in the front row, with Jiang Lan, Sun Shun, and Liu Yun behind him, while Xiao Bai and his young disciples stood at the very back, tiptoeing to look at the stage.

"Hongyun Martial Arts School, Zhang Yang." Liu Changqing's voice was low, and he didn't even turn his head. "Look carefully."

A man stood on the stage. He was in his early twenties, lean, with dark skin, and his arms were longer than others, hanging down almost to his knees.

His posture was strange, with his elbows outstretched and his ten fingers like hooks, like an eagle spreading its wings.

Standing opposite him was a disciple of An Yuan; this was the third person to be replaced.

The first two collapsed at the edge of the ring, one clutching his waist and the other supporting his shoulder, and were helped off.

"This is 'Eagle Claw Fist'," Liu Changqing said. "It comes from the Eagle Claw School in the north and focuses on grabbing, striking, capturing, and seizing. Its finger strength can break bones."

"Zhang Yang was originally a disciple of An Yuan, but he switched to Hongyun Martial Arts School last year."

Switching to another sect is a major taboo. Zhang Yang's defeat of three members of An Yuan today is a slap in the face for his new master.

Zhang Yang on the stage moved. His footwork was extremely agile, his feet seemed to be on hot coals, moving left and right, his arms spread out like eagle wings, each strike accompanied by a short, sharp whooshing sound.

"The most powerful technique in Eagle Claw Kung Fu is 'joint locking'," Liu Changqing said calmly, as if giving a lecture. "If you get caught in it, your joints will dislocate and your tendons will twist. In the future, when you face an opponent like this, don't let him get close."

Zhang Yang stood on the stage, his breathing steady, a slight smile on his lips, his gaze sweeping over the seats of An Yuan and then over the entire audience.

No one answered from An Yuan's side. Lin Hongyu, the head of Hongyun Martial Arts School, sat on the stands, picked up her teacup, gently blew away the foam, and remained expressionless.

"This guy is really arrogant," Shen Qing said in a low voice.

After several rounds, Zhang Yang stepped down from the arena. Several more pairs of disciples took turns fighting, with wins and losses alternating, but without causing much of a stir. Just as the noise from the audience subsided, a figure stepped onto the arena.

It's Zhou Liang!

When he went on stage, he didn't even clasp his hands in greeting. He walked directly to the center of the ring, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and fixed on Guangchang's seat.

"Cangsong Martial Arts School, Zhou Liang." His voice wasn't loud, but each word struck like a nail, echoing throughout the arena. "Where are the people from Guangchang? One of them, come out here."

Sun Gengsan jumped up, sliding his chair back. "Master, I'll go!"

He didn't turn around to look at Liu Changqing, and strode onto the stage. Liu Changqing raised his hand to call out to him, but his hand froze in mid-air before he lowered it again.

"Guangchang, Sun Gengsan." Sun Shun clasped his hands in greeting.

Zhou Liang looked at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Please."

Sun Shun made the first move. Knowing that his old injury had not yet healed, he could not delay and had to fight fast. With a flick of his right arm, he unleashed the Tiger's Might, his fist whistling through the air, aiming straight for Zhou Liang's face.

He used all his strength in that punch to gain the upper hand!

Zhou Liang raised his hand, spread his five fingers, and caught the punch squarely.

Their fists collided with a dull thud. Sun Shun felt as if he had smashed into an iron plate; his fists went numb, and his entire arm throbbed with pain.

He quickly withdrew his fist and changed his move, his left hand emerging from under his ribs and stabbing towards Zhou Liang's heart.

Zhou Liang sidestepped the thrust, and at the same time, his right hand twisted out from his waist, using the Mountain-Breaking Hand technique to strike Sun Shun's chest and abdomen.

Sun Shun raised his arm to block, his arms crossed, his joints cracking. He stumbled back two steps, feeling a tightness in his chest.

Zhou Liang did not pursue. He stood there, his mockery even more pronounced.

"Guangchang, is that all you've got?"

Sun Gengsan's face turned red, and he gritted his teeth, wielding his double whips like a windmill, creating a howling wind that forced Zhou Liang to take a step back.

But Zhou Liang retreated very calmly, as if he were taking a walk, while he was looking for Sun Shun's weakness.

The eighth move. In the brief pause between the rotation of Sun Shun's arms, his breath caught off guard, and his movements were a beat slow. Zhou Liang's eyes lit up, and his right fist twisted out from his waist, a Mountain-Crushing Strike, no—Mountain-Breaking Hand, his entire strength concentrated in his fist, slamming into Sun Shun's blocking arm.

"Bang!"

Sun Shun was struck as if by a battering ram; he flew backward, landing on his back at the edge of the ring, sliding a foot before coming to a stop. His right arm hung limply at his side, his fingers trembling, a gash between his thumb and forefinger dripping blood.

He struggled to get up, tried to brace himself with his hands, but couldn't hold on and fell back down.

Zhou Liang didn't look at him. His gaze swept over Guangchang's seats again. "Who else?"

The audience in Guangchang's seats was deathly silent. Liu Yun's face was pale, and she clutched her handkerchief tightly. Shen Qing kept her head down, not daring to look at the stage.

On the stands, Master Liu of Changxing Martial Arts School stroked his beard and said in a low voice, "This Zhou Liang's punches are powerful and fierce, and his internal strength has penetrated to the bone. Judging from his blood circulation and the release and release of his strength, he is probably only one step away from mastering the nine acupoints."

Li Guishan, from the Kaishan Martial Arts School next door, nodded.

On the pine-covered mat, Shi Yunshan nodded slightly, his eyes filled with satisfaction.

Liu Changqing's gaze fell on Sun Gengsan, who was being helped up, his brows furrowed.

Liu Yun, standing behind him, bit her lip and suddenly stood up. "Holy crap!"

Liu Changqing said in a deep voice, "Sit down."

Liu Yun froze, about to speak again, when a hand pressed down on her shoulder.

"Senior Sister Liu, let me try." Chen Nian walked over from the side, dressed in a light blue martial arts outfit, his back straight. He glanced at Liu Yun, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, then turned to Liu Changqing, "Master Liu, Yixingquan and Guangchang are old friends. Today, Cangsong has gone too far. This junior is willing to give it a try."

Liu Changqing looked at him and remained silent for a moment. Chen Zhenggang sat not far away, his expression not good, but he did not stop him.

"Be careful," Liu Changqing said.

Chen Nian nodded and strode onto the stage. He clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Chen Nian of Yixingquan, I'd like to learn from Master Zhou's superior skills."

Zhou Liang looked him up and down, then smiled. "Yi Xing Quan? Who is Chen Zhenggang to you?"

"My father."

"Hmph." Zhou Liang nodded noncommittally. "Please."

Chen Nian's Yixingquan style is known for its speed, cunning, and ruthlessness. Knowing Zhou Liang's strength, he avoided direct confrontation, instead moving around the perimeter, his arms like snakes, darting left and right, leaving behind afterimages.

But Zhou Liang was faster. His Mountain-Breaking Hand technique was wide and sweeping, and every palm strike blocked Chen Nian's attack path, forcing him to change his moves repeatedly.

After twenty moves, Chen Nian was mostly on the defensive and less on the offensive, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

Zhou Liang suddenly revealed an opening, exposing his left ribs. Chen Nian was overjoyed and used the "Snake Spitting Tongue" move to strike directly at his center.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch Zhou Liang's ribs, Zhou Liang's body suddenly twisted, his left hand gripping Chen Nian's outstretched wrist like an iron clamp, while his right palm flipped up from below, his five fingers joined together like a knife, and slashed hard at Chen Nian's upper arm.

"Click."

The sound of bone cracking was as clear as a tree branch snapping. Chen Nian screamed in agony as her right arm went limp, the white bone fragments piercing through the flesh, a bloody and horrifying sight.

He was lifted off the ground by the immense force, crashed onto the steps of the ring, rolled to the ground, his face pale, and large beads of sweat rolled down his face.

Chen Zhenggang suddenly stood up, his chair flipped backward, and crashed to the ground.

"Zhou Liang!"

Zhou Liang withdrew his hand, looked down at the blood on the edge of his palm, and rubbed it on the ground.

"Master Chen, your son's skills are inferior to others, so who can he blame?" He raised his head, a smile on his lips. "I thought Yixingquan was some kind of superb martial art, but it turns out it's nothing special."

The entire audience erupted in uproar. The expressions on the faces of the people below varied; some shook their heads, some muttered "That's too much," and others watched expressionlessly.

Chen Zhenggang clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking.

Liu Yun rushed over and squatted down beside Chen Nian, frantically trying to stop the bleeding. Chen Nian gritted his teeth, trembling with pain, but didn't cry out.

He glanced at Liu Yun, then his head lolled to the side and he fainted.

Chen Zhenggang walked over with a livid face, picked up his son, and turned to walk off the field.

As he passed Zhou Liang, he stopped and stared into Zhou Liang's eyes. "I'll remember this debt."

Zhou Liang smiled and clasped his hands in a fist salute: "I'll be waiting anytime."

Zhou Liang turned around and looked at Guangchang's seat again. His gaze passed over Liu Changqing and landed on the figure in the gray shorts in the back row.

"I heard a master of nine acupoints emerged from Guangchang?" He paused, raising his voice slightly, "What's his name again—Jiang Lan?"

He pointed a finger at Jiang Lan, his lips curling into undisguised contempt.

"Is this a fake acupoint created with medicine? Come up here and let me see, don't hide behind your master like a grandson!"