activa-t Chapter 56 I want to fight
Chapter 56 I want to fight
"When Southern Fist is transmitted to the North, since it is a transmission, in addition to the fist techniques, the skills taught must also be tested."
"Master Yip taught me Wing Chun. Although the time was short and I was slow-witted, I still managed to learn some basics."
"Today, I will use all my knowledge to seek your guidance, both to vindicate my school and to let you see for yourselves..."
His gaze was piercing, and he spoke each word slowly and deliberately:
"Do Wing Chun students even deserve to stand on the front lines in Tianjin?"
That's a reasonable and assertive statement.
First, expose any potential "traitors," then risk your own life to take on the test of spreading Southern Kung Fu to the North for your master.
Many boxers, whose minds were in complete turmoil, relaxed their expressions and began to ponder.
I don't know how skilled this person is in boxing, but at least his sense of responsibility and courage cannot be faked.
Just as the atmosphere was about to turn into a martial arts contest, a slow, sinister voice rang out from the crowd:
"The demon has been brought to justice, a truly gratifying sight. However..."
Chen Heming strolled out, fanning himself, his eyes glancing at Zhou Xing.
"This Brother Zhou, as a policeman in the foreign concession, is paid by foreigners. As for whose side he's on, that's another story. Those who are not of our kind are bound to have different intentions."
He paused, then snapped his fan shut, pointing it at Guo Zhen's corpse on the ground:
"Guo Zhen... while we can't completely trust what this sorcerer said before he died, the 'Seven-Day Bright Strength' thing is truly unbelievable. Brother Zhao, what do you say?"
Zhao Debiao immediately jumped out, his face red and his neck thick, his voice louder than anyone else's:
"That's right! No matter what you say, it won't change the fact that you're a police officer in the foreign concession and a lackey of foreigners!"
Who knows what kind of shady dealings you're up to? Your kung fu progresses so fast it's almost uncanny. Have you used some insidious method that depletes your inner strength and forces growth? Everyone should think about it!
These words aroused suspicion in some people's hearts.
In particular, the labels of "concession police" and "foreign lackeys" were especially sensitive and offensive in Tianjin, a place where Chinese and foreigners were mixed and where conflicts were deep.
Several boxers frowned again and whispered in agreement:
"Yes, seven days to achieve a breakthrough is truly..."
"The police are cunning; they might not be on our side."
"The spread of Southern Fist to the North is a major event in the martial arts world. It is indeed inappropriate to have someone of unknown identity represent it."
Zhou Xing frowned slightly.
I came here today to compete on behalf of Ip Man, intending to downplay my identity as a police officer.
But the imposter posing as Guo Zhen kept biting and biting, driving the "concession police" and "Seven-Day Mingjin" nails even deeper.
People like Chen Heming and Zhao Debiao are also adept at taking advantage of others' opportunities.
Simply reasoning with people won't be enough to explain it.
He was about to speak when Zhang Pinyou, who had been listening intently on the second floor and was already furious, stepped forward and said loudly:
"I can testify! A few days ago at the ghost market, evil spirits roamed freely, and I, Zhang, was trapped in a desperate situation with almost no way out!"
It was the Zhou brothers who single-handedly charged in, killing the demon with their fists and slaying the river demon with their blades, saving me from certain death!
He became more and more excited as he spoke, his face flushed, and he pointed at Zhou Xing:
"What he uses is all orthodox Chinese martial arts, powerful and vigorous! He is a true hero! Any talk of evil magic is pure nonsense!"
Zhao Debiao scoffed and said sarcastically:
"Sir, do you even know what martial arts are? You've probably been set up and kept in the dark, haven't you? People in the foreign concessions are masters at putting on these fancy displays of martial arts to fool honest people like you."
"you!"
Zhang Pinyou's face turned red with anger, and the veins on his forehead bulged. Although he came from a military family, he was no match for Zhao Debiao when it came to this kind of street-smart, rascal-like bickering.
Zhou Xing raised his hand, stopping Zhang Pinyou from continuing her argument.
His gaze fell on Chen Heming, and he said calmly:
"I heard Master Chen repeatedly mention 'Seven-day Ming Jin' while I was outside, suspecting that my foundation was shallow."
But is it related to the struggle between you and me in Master Ye's courtyard that day, which ended in a draw?
If Master Chen is dissatisfied with the result that day, or suspects that Zhou cheated...
Zhou Xing's lips curled up:
"Now, you can put your hands to mine. Whether it's real or fake, you'll know as soon as you touch them."
Chen Heming gave a forced smile, gently waving his fan:
"Master Zhou is joking. If Master Ye says it's a draw, then it's a draw. How could I, Chen, dare to disagree?"
I just had my doubts, thinking that Master Zhou might have used some extreme methods back then.
After all, the sheer resilience of that ox-tendon-stringed instrument still seems unbelievable to Chen, and he can't forget it. As for helping out…”
Zhao Debiao chuckled to himself:
"That day, you hesitated and didn't dare to actually fight. But today you took the initiative to step forward."
"Heh heh, could it be... that you've used some kind of evil magic that overdraws your potential again? Feeling confident now? Young man, your eagerness for fame is understandable. But your life is your own!"
These words were insidious, and the crowd stirred again, their gazes toward Zhou Xing filled with even deeper suspicion.
Zhou Xing watched the two of them singing and responding in unison, and suddenly smiled.
"Master Chen, you've misunderstood."
Zhou Xing spoke, his voice not loud, but it drowned out the whispers around him.
"I'm not saying I'm only helping you."
His gaze swept over Zhao Debiao and Chen Heming, and then over the other boxers in the crowd who had been shouting the loudest.
Some of them were unclear about their intentions, some simply looked down on Wing Chun, and some were perhaps just jealous.
He slowly raised his arm, extended his index finger like a halberd or a spear, and pointed at them one by one.
"You question my stance and call me a 'foreign lackey'."
"You doubt my skill foundation and mock my 'Seven-Day Vivid Strength' as having an illegitimate origin."
"You, you, and you..."
"You doubt the foundation of Southern Fist and the teaching ability of my school."
Including Chen Heming and Zhao Debiao, he pointed his index finger in the air a total of ten times.
Ten people.
The theater fell silent again. The ten people, some standing close and some far apart, were hidden in the crowd, but they were linked together by this finger and exposed to the public eye.
The faces of these people immediately turned ugly. Some glared angrily, while others sneered and remained silent.
Zhou Xing withdrew his hand, his gaze intense as he swept over the ten faces:
"Arguing is pointless. Since you all have doubts, let's keep it simple..."
Zhou Xing stopped looking at them, took a few steps forward, and walked alone to the very center of the venue, to the most open area of blue bricks.
Then he turned around, his back to the second-floor master, and faced the dark mass of martial arts heroes, each with their own thoughts.
He raised his eyes, his gaze calm, sweeping over the ten men. His back was ramrod straight, and his voice carried clearly to every corner:
"Since you all want to weigh my Zhou Xing's worth."
"Since everyone is dissatisfied with my 'Seven-Day Vivid Strength'."
"Since everyone feels that I, a police officer in the foreign concession, am not qualified to represent my sect and stand on the front lines in Tianjin..."
"Then let's not waste time."
He stood alone in the center of the field, extending one hand towards the direction of the ten people, making a casual gesture—a simple movement, yet carrying a disdainful provocation.
Then, each word was spoken slowly and deliberately, with a voice as sharp as metal striking metal:
"You ten."
"Let's go together."