At lunch, besides Du Lin, Zhao Wenyu, the owner of a weapons manufacturing factory, was also present.
Zhao Wenyu had access to the military’s most advanced steel, his background unfathomably deep. His factory was purely a passion project, taking orders just to break even and minimise losses.
Lu Zheng’s order was, without a doubt, the largest the factory had ever received.
After all, the cold weapons produced there were of the highest quality, too expensive for film crews and beyond the reach of most enthusiasts.
And Lu Zheng? He ordered everything: war hammers, crescent blades, eight-foot snake spears, dragon-tiger maces, silver dragon lances, phoenix-winged golden boring bars, halberds, tiger-head embroidered spring sabres, seven-star cloud-patterned swords, mountain-cleaving axes, Emei water-dividing spikes, mixed-iron brow-level staffs…
He wanted every type, in different styles, with a minimum of ten pieces per style, and he required the factory to keep the moulds for future use.
Honestly, if this weren’t a modern society where killing relied on guns, Zhao Wenyu would’ve considered calling the police.
Was this guy planning to travel back to ancient times and start a rebellion?
Naturally, Zhao Wenyu grew curious about Lu Zheng, treating him as more than just a customer, often chatting with him during meetings.
Once, out of curiosity, Zhao Wenyu tested Lu Zheng, asking if he wanted to try his hand when picking up an order.
They were cold weapon enthusiasts, after all. Sparring was normal.
Lu Zheng saw through Zhao Wenyu’s intentions but wasn’t bothered, as his martial arts expertise was already on record with the Haicheng authorities.
Taking a mixed-iron brow-level staff, Lu Zheng performed a Shaolin staff technique he’d learned online, even throwing in some flashy moves from films.
Zhao Wenyu: ∑(°Д°)!!!
A solid steel staff, as tall as a person, as thick as an egg! Most people could barely lift it!
Yet Lu Zheng wielded it as if it were a light wooden stick.
As the staff swept through the air, the wind roared, sending gusts that made Zhao Wenyu, standing six or seven metres away, tremble, fearing Lu Zheng might lose his grip and kill someone.
Zhao Wenyu held his ground, preserving his dignity, but the other staff hid behind cover without exception.
From then on, Zhao Wenyu called Lu Zheng “Brother Lu.”
What? Lu Zheng was younger? Since ancient times, the skilled have been the masters, didn’t you know?
This full-armour combat event came about because Du Lin was participating, and since Lu Zheng was introduced to the circle by Du Lin, Zhao Wenyu had him invited out of courtesy, though he naturally showed up for lunch.
“Brother Lu!”
Seeing Lu Zheng, Zhao Wenyu eagerly approached, prompting a surprised glance from Du Lin.
“Wenyu! Mr. Du!” Lu Zheng greeted them with a smile before sitting. “I thought full-armour combat was a European thing. Since when do we have it?”
Lu Zheng had heard of full-armour combat before but hadn’t paid much attention, as he hadn’t yet acquired the jade seal in his mind. He only knew it was an emerging sport.
After Du Lin mentioned it, he looked it up online, learning it was held annually in Europe each spring, with this year’s event already over.
As for the competition… it was essentially a bunch of wealthy, idle cold weapon enthusiasts brawling, lacking technical finesse, sometimes not even matching gang fights in tactics.
Lu Zheng came partly out of interest, partly out of sheer boredom.
“That’s the origin of full-armour combat, held once a year, the most prestigious, considered the highest honour,” Zhao Wenyu explained. “But once a year is too rare! So, clubs have been arranging private matches.”
“Private matches…”
“Ahem, our goal is to promote full-armour combat, aiming to make it an official sport,” Zhao Wenyu quickly rephrased.
“Difficult,” Du Lin said, throwing cold water on the idea. “Full-armour combat varies greatly by region. Countries use their historical weapons and armour, and equipment differences make matches less fair. There aren’t even weight classes, and everyone’s clad in iron, so it’s not very spectator-friendly.”
“That’s because there weren’t experts before, just enthusiasts, maybe gym-goers, not even athletes,” Zhao Wenyu said. “But now, as the sport gains popularity, more athletes and even martial artists are joining.
With protective gear, the technical demands are higher than physical ones, and the barrier to entry is lower than boxing or UFC.
For example, in this match between our Haicheng Wuyue Club and Japan’s Sixth Heaven Club, besides the group matches where we enthusiasts get to have fun, the individual matches actually feature hired experts.”
“Oh?” Lu Zheng raised an eyebrow. “Group and individual matches? So many details?”
“You didn’t know, Brother Lu?” Zhao Wenyu asked, curious.
“I thought it was just people in armour beating each other up,” Lu Zheng said.
Zhao Wenyu: “…”
Du Lin: “…”
“There are many events in the World Full-Armour Combat Championship. Individual matches include weapon duels, divided into short weapon, two-handed weapon, long weapon, and sword-and-shield categories,” Zhao Wenyu explained. “There’s also an individual mixed combat event, with no restrictions on weapon type or method, and finally group matches, divided into five-person, ten-person, and fifty-person events.”
“Good grief,” Lu Zheng couldn’t help but marvel. He really hadn’t known.
“This time, we’ve rented Haicheng Stadium for two days. Day one is individual weapon and mixed combat matches, day two is group matches,” Zhao Wenyu said. “Each club can send two participants per individual match, and each person, besides group matches, can enter up to three individual matches.”
“There’s a limit?” Lu Zheng raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed.
Zhao Wenyu nodded. “To prevent one club from hiring a top expert who dominates everything.”
His eyes gleamed. “Interested in joining, Brother Lu?”
“Have you invited others?” Lu Zheng asked.
“I only asked you, Brother Lu. A few other friends seem to know some experts and are inviting them for internal sparring before we go beat up those folks living comfortably,” Zhao Wenyu said.
“You guys really want to thrash someone, huh?”
“It’s not us wanting to thrash them. The Japanese proposed this match.”
“Hm?”
“Full-armour combat in China is just starting, with only three clubs nationwide: Beidu, Haicheng, and Shenshi. So, the Japanese want to take advantage of our early stage to beat us,” Zhao Wenyu said.
Lu Zheng blinked, then said to Zhao Wenyu, “When’s the match? I need to order a set of fish-scale armour.”
