Lu Zheng was led by Du Lin to the display room to change. Lin Wan and Zhao Xiaodao headed straight for the arena.
The so-called arena was simply a cordoned-off open space outdoors. At the moment, no one was fighting on it. Everyone was clearly divided into two camps.
On the east side stood about thirty-odd people, most of them smiling and laughing noisily. Five or six wore full armour. Nearly ten others crowded around a burly man who had removed his helmet and was sitting in a chair, loudly praising him while quickly wiping his sweat and handing him water.
Four more were setting up fixed cameras at the four corners of the ring, while three mobile cameramen rested nearby.
All of them belonged to Japan’s Sixth Heaven Club. If Lu Zheng were here, he might even recognise a few familiar faces.
On the west side there were more people, around sixty or seventy club members, staff, and their own camera team, but their expressions were grim. Several were quietly groaning in pain, and one large man was half-lying on a portable sofa, stubbornly refusing to leave.
This was the scene Lin Wan and Zhao Xiaodao walked into.
Lin Wan walked in front, while Zhao Xiaodao wore sunglasses and a mask to hide her identity.
“Sister-in-law!”
Zhao Wenyu knew Lin Wan and hurried over. “Is Brother Lu here?”
Lin Wan nodded. “He’s gone to change.”
Her arrival lifted the spirits of the Wuyue Club members. Even the Japanese side straightened up a little.
“Uesugi-sama, that must be the one called Lu Zheng.”
Uesugi Akira glanced sideways at Lin Wan and nodded.
“Uesugi-sama, the opponent is said to be a Chinese traditional martial arts expert, far stronger than Zhang Tiexia. Please be careful.”
“No need to worry. I have studied the footage from two years ago repeatedly. He is skilled, but he is no match for me.”
“Then I feel relieved. Everything rests on you, Uesugi-sama.”
Uesugi Akira nodded, gently stroking the katana in his hands, slowly closed his eyes, and continued regulating his breathing, gathering his focus.
He was certain of victory, yet he wanted to face his opponent in peak condition and crush him utterly, displaying the invincible might of Japanese martial arts before the cameras.
…
On the other side, several people who were close to Lu Zheng crowded around Lin Wan, calling her “sister-in-law” nonstop and loudly urging Lu Zheng to come out and smash the arrogance of these “little Japanese who live too comfortably”.
Zhao Xiaodao, identity concealed, enjoyed a rare moment of being invisible. Everyone was focused on Lu Zheng; nobody paid her any attention.
Lin Wan greeted them all, then went to Zhang Tiexia’s side. Seeing his flushed face and unstable breathing, she asked anxiously, “Why are you still here? You should be at the hospital.”
Zhang Tiexia shook his head. “It’s nothing, just some internal shaking injuries. Hospitals don’t have any miracle cures for that; I just need rest. I have to watch little brother Lu beat them all before I go.”
“Is it really worth it?” Lin Wan frowned. “There’ll be plenty of chances later. How do you know your organs aren’t damaged? What if there are lasting effects?”
Zhang Tiexia shook his head again. “I’m fine. There are things I still need to say to little brother Lu.”
“Brother Lu is here!”
Someone shouted, and everyone turned.
Zhao Xiaodao, who had been quietly standing at the back, looked over with the crowd.
The next moment, a tall figure strode forth: clad in fish-scale chainmail, wearing a phoenix-winged helmet that reached for the sky, his face hidden behind a fierce lion-face mask.
At his waist hung a straight-bladed ring-hand sword. In his hand he carried a gleaming silver dragon-coiled spear. His posture was upright and imposing, his aura vast and stirring, like an ancient great general come to life.
Zhao Zilong reborn! Jin Machao walking the earth once more!
Forty kilograms of real armour, utterly different from the props seen in films and dramas. Just looking at it, anyone could feel the genuine, overwhelming impact.
The sheer presence of those marching steps left people who had never witnessed such a sight dumbfounded.
“So handsome!” Zhao Xiaodao’s eyes sparkled with little stars.
“Boss is awesome!”
“Brother Lu is mighty!”
Everyone rushed forward cheering, just as excited as she was.
A single entrance had seized the attention of every person present.
“Flashy!”
“All show and no substance!”
“Just posing!”
“Looks nice but useless!”
They really had inherited Chinese culture well; even their insults came out in fluent idioms.
Lu Zheng walked up, glanced at Uesugi Akira who was sitting with eyes closed, not deigning to look at him.
Pretty good acting.
He turned back, nodded to Lin Wan and Zhao Xiaodao, then noticed Zhang Tiexia.
“Old Zhang? You still haven’t gone to the hospital?”
Zhang Tiexia shook his head and tried to stand.
“No, no, no! Lie back down!” Lu Zheng quickly steadied him.
Using Lu Zheng’s support, Zhang Tiexia leaned close and whispered rapidly, “The guy opposite is called Uesugi Akira, supposedly a descendant of Uesugi Shinkage. His Shin-Kage Ryu swordsmanship is extremely tight defensively and vicious in attack. Be careful of his left hand; his no-sword draw is unpredictable. I lost my spear to him and that’s how I got injured.”
After saying all that in one breath, Zhang Tiexia clearly felt worse. The opponent had trained for twenty or thirty years; that kick to the chest had definitely caused serious internal injury.
In real life, martial arts can be just as lethal as the kick that killed a man in Wolf Warrior 2.
Having delivered his warning, Zhang Tiexia wanted to sit back down.
Lu Zheng helped him settle, gave a faint smile, and sent a strand of true qi through his arm, guiding it along the meridians into the chest and abdomen to begin nourishing the organs.
Zhang Tiexia: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ
Leaving a wisp of true qi behind, Lu Zheng winked at him and made a “shush” gesture.
Zhang Tiexia was so stunned he could only nod dumbly, watching as Lu Zheng let go and turned to Zhao Wenyu. “What’s the situation? How are we fighting?”
“Anything goes, choose your own weapons. No strikes to the face, neck, or groin. No other rules,” Zhao Wenyu explained quickly. “Five-minute rounds, best of three, three-minute rest between rounds. Points decide the winner, but KO counts too.”
Lu Zheng glanced at Uesugi Akira. “He’s using a katana?”
Zhao Wenyu nodded.
Lu Zheng nodded too, handed his long spear to Lin Wan, and gripped the great ring-hand sword at his back with one hand. “Then I’ll use a sword as well!”
…
“What are you lot whispering about over there? Everyone’s here, too scared to fight?” a middle-aged man from the Japanese side taunted. Their side immediately erupted in jeers.
The Chinese side fired back instantly.
“You in a rush to reincarnate?”
“We’re letting you rest a bit longer!”
Clap, clap, clap!
Lu Zheng clapped his hands, cutting off the trash talk. Without a word, hand never leaving his sword, he began walking step by step toward the ring.
Each silent footstep seemed to carry its own rhythm. The noisy Japanese side gradually fell quiet.
Just the sound of those footsteps, combined with his invincible record from two years ago, was enough for Lu Zheng alone to silence the entire opposing camp.
