When Lu Zheng crossed back and went online, three days had already passed since Zhao Xiaodao entered the fray. Everything that could ferment had pretty much fermented.
If the full-plate combat videos had provided the battlefield, those rich second-generation kids had at best been scouts and vanguard skirmishers. Zhao Xiaodao and her fans were the real main force, fighting the keyboard warriors to a standstill.
The only thing that can suppress keyboard warriors is probably a horde of rabid fans.
Zhao Xiaodao’s fans promptly dug up information and footage of Uesugi Mei from overseas sites: clips of him competing in Japanese fight events, praise from various media and big names, his crushing run through Japanese and Korean opponents in this very full-plate tournament, and even the time he KO’d Zhang Tiexia.
Uesugi Mei’s team had been planning a documentary series, so they had quickly edited and uploaded many clips online, only for Zhao Xiaodao’s fans to turn them into ammunition.
Furthermore, once Zhao Xiaodao stepped in and turned the tide, the voices of professional fighters and traditional martial arts inheritors finally began to spread.
“His reactions are extremely fast; that’s an essential quality for integrating traditional martial arts into real combat.”
“Almost no superfluous movement. It looks flashy, but every action follows momentum perfectly.”
“Immense power. When he truly unleashes it, a few strikes send Uesugi Mei flying. Judging by the distance he was launched, this Brother Lu has deep mastery of force issuance techniques, able to concentrate and explode power from his entire body.”
“From Uesugi Mei’s previous videos, his strength and defence were lacking, but full-plate combat completely covers those weaknesses. That’s obvious from how he steamrolled Japan and Korea. Yet he underestimated China’s traditional martial arts circle. Full-plate favours him, but it favours Chinese kung fu, the ancestor of weapon play, even more. Did he really think our Eighteen Arms were just for show?”
All sorts of expert commentary appeared, analysing why an unknown Chinese nobody could utterly dominate a proud son of heaven from Japan.
Countless self-media outlets and entertainment companies also started contacting Zhao Xiaodao and the Wu-Yue Club to ask about “Brother Lu”.
Fortunately, Lu Zheng had always been careful. He never took photos with others, and everyone who knew his wishes kept their mouths shut. When interviewed, they simply changed the subject and refused to answer any questions about him.
With Zhao Xiaodao staying silent and the club’s top brass issuing a gag order, even those tempted to show off had to consider the consequences of being ostracised from the circle.
Thankfully, none of them lacked money, so even when a few factory workers occasionally leaked something, there was no crucial information.
Just that “Brother Lu” was very young, tall, and handsome, and that “Brother Lu” was incredibly strong, able to twirl flower patterns with a nearly sixty-jin solid-steel longspear.
No photos, no name, no details. What can you do with that?
So Lu Zheng happily sat back and ate melon online, laughing at all the wild guesses about himself.
After munching melons for a while, he finally remembered to say something in the [Martial Alliance] group.
Lu Zheng: @Zhao Xiaodao Thanks for speaking up for me. Felt really good.
Zhao Xiaodao replied in seconds.
Zhao Xiaodao: Brother Lu’s back! Sister Wan said you were in secluded cultivation and completely cut off from the outside world, so I took matters into my own hands hehe.
Lu Zheng: Did great. Next time I’m in Beidu I’ll treat you to dinner.
Zhao Xiaodao: Yes yes! Shall we invite Liu-the-Immortal and Big Mi Mi too?
Lu Zheng: …
Lin Wan: Invite them!
So Lu Zheng privately messaged Lin Wan.
Lu Zheng: Such a huge thing and you didn’t even tell me?
Lin Wan: (snickering.jpg) If this counts as huge, what happens if riding clouds or calling wind and rain ever gets exposed? Besides, no faces were shown. By my estimate, the heat will die down in three days.
Lu Zheng: Is it really okay to talk about this stuff in chat?
Lin Wan: You believe anyone would buy it?
Lu Zheng: …
Fair point. Saying you can ride clouds in a chat is about as credible as claiming to be the First Emperor and asking for money.
Lin Wan: That said, your video really put full-plate combat on the map. There are loads of new armoured weapon-sparring clips online now.
Lu Zheng: My match two years ago was pretty awesome too, and it never took off.
The previous full-plate event had been decently large, yet it never went viral, which was why Lu Zheng hadn’t paid much attention this time. He never expected it to blow up.
Lin Wan: Probably because last time there were more participants and attention was spread thin. This time there was only one match, all eyes were on you, your performance was insane, and then Zhao Xiaodao got doxxed. Of course it became a topic.
A lot of things go viral either because of capital or pure luck. Clearly this was a low-probability lucky break. If nobody had spotted Zhao Xiaodao in the videos, the hype would already have faded.
After ending the call with Lin Wan, Lu Zheng kept eating melon online until noon. He got so full on gossip he almost skipped lunch.
He cooked himself a bowl of noodles, gave a like to a set of Zhao Xiaodao’s recent selfies on Moments, then crossed back to ancient times.
Hmm, Lu Zheng suddenly noticed Zhao Xiaodao had been posting a lot more selfies lately.
The moment he arrived home, he sensed the girls next door finishing lunch.
“Hey? Didn’t you all go shopping and to the theatre?” Lu Zheng asked as he walked over.
“We went to the morning market and planned to visit Jade Songstress Garden this afternoon to listen to music. But the restaurants outside weren’t as good as home cooking, so we came back and asked Auntie Liu to cook for us,” Liu Qingyan explained.
Shen Ying looked up. Her skin glowed like jade, her beauty radiant. Her peach-blossom eyes were brimming with seductive charm beneath her smiling gaze. She asked in a sweet, coquettish voice, “Lu-lang, will you come with us this afternoon?”
“No thanks, no thanks! You ladies go ahead!”
Lu Zheng waved his hands repeatedly. No way was he spending the day listening to opera with a gaggle of women, especially since strangers would be present and he couldn’t cuddle. Why bother?
“Fine.” Shen Ying’s charming eyes flickered. She turned to speak to Ao Qi beside her, her stunning allure momentarily stunning even Ao Qi, who was long used to beautiful women.
“You only watched The Ghostly Romance of Qingnv yesterday. Actually, Lu-lang also wrote a story called Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai. Its depth of feeling surpasses even Qingnv, and it comes with a matching piece of music called Liang Zhu. The melody twists and turns, rich with meaning.”
“Really?”
Setting aside the name jokes in Qingnv, the story itself was already a classic. In her hundred-plus years, Ao Qi had rarely heard anything better.
So she immediately grew curious about Liang Zhu.
“Yes! You can first read the illustrated manuscript I copied. When the next ten-day holiday comes, I’ll gather all the sisters and we’ll perform it,” Liu Qingyan added.
“You even perform opera?” Yan Hongxia asked in surprise.
“Just for fun. We’re nowhere near professional performers, but everyone takes it seriously and the result isn’t embarrassing,” Shen Ying said.
