Chapter Seventy-One: The Temple Fair (Part Two)

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"

"Crush him! Crush him..."

"You scoundrel... you scoundrel..."

"Ah! My wager money!"

Before the great gate of the Grand Xiangguo Temple in Kaifeng Prefecture, the wrestling ring was alive with excitement. The wrestlers faced off in pairs, each line standing like opposing armies. After a tense standoff, both sides launched into combat, grappling fiercely and refusing to yield. The bouts were thrilling and splendid, and the spectators below roared their approval, their cheers echoing like thunder.

Zhen Nanjiao was a dark-skinned man, tall and powerfully built, his arms thick and strong, his steps steady, his physique as imposing as a wall. To battle such a “wall,” the outcome was all but certain.

After throwing down his opponent from Guanzhong, Zhen Nanjiao bested challenger after challenger, toppling several more in succession. Now, he was but a step away from claiming the title of Champion.

The reward for the Champion was substantial, and with it, fame that would spread far and wide.

With a resounding thud, Zhen Nanjiao let out a mighty shout and hurled his final opponent onto the ring, where the defeated man could only groan. Around him, seven or eight other wrestlers lay sprawled in defeat.

“Champion! Champion! Champion!”

The crowd erupted in wild chants, their shouts and cheers surging like a tide to spur Zhen Nanjiao on.

With a roar, Zhen Nanjiao raised his clenched fists high, his bare, dark skin glistening with a cold sheen beneath the winter sun.

His physique, coupled with his overwhelming presence, made him truly awe-inspiring—a figure who commanded respect from all directions.

This display only intensified the audience’s thunderous acclaim.

“What a formidable man!” Li Sanjian, witnessing the scene, could not help but voice his admiration.

“He’s just a brute, nothing more—a single blow and he’d fall.” Ran Yunbiao, though stirred by the spectacle, was unwilling to concede, clenching his fists as he spoke.

Li Sanjian glanced at Ran Yunbiao, then at Shankui, comparing them silently. If Shankui were to face Zhen Nanjiao, who would prevail?

It would be a close match, Li Sanjian thought to himself. Shankui had been practicing martial arts for some time, and his strength was no less than Zhen Nanjiao’s. But wrestling required skill, not just brute force, and Shankui knew nothing of the art.

“Well done, good sir!” someone in the crowd shouted their praise.

“Thank you, thank you!” Zhen Nanjiao, now brimming with pride, folded his hands and bowed graciously to the four directions, laughing heartily. “Before I came to the capital, I’d heard it was a place of hidden dragons and crouching tigers. Now that I see it for myself, it’s not all that impressive.”

His words immediately drew a burst of jeers from the crowd, and even Li Sanjian, who had just felt a sliver of respect for him, now found himself annoyed.

“And what makes you say that, sir? There are many capable men in the world—never underestimate them.”

“That’s right! Our capital is full of hidden talents. Wait till a true master comes forth—you’ll be left in tatters.”

“Careful or you’ll have to cough up your prize.”

With a hearty laugh, Zhen Nanjiao tossed his gold ingot prize into the air a few times, then addressed the crowd: “A master, you say? I’ve punched the North Sea’s flood dragon and kicked the fierce tiger of the Southern Mountains. Do you know the meaning of my name? I am Zhen Nanjiao, from Daming Prefecture, and I subdue all challengers south of Daming.”

“Then what is it you subdue?” someone taunted.

“I subdue the heroes of the world,” Zhen Nanjiao replied.

“Pah! With your arrogance, what hero would even bother to look at you?”

“Say, good sir, would you part with your gold for me? If you do, I might just lower myself to befriend you.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

“You want the gold?” Zhen Nanjiao was unfazed, tossing the ingot again. “Here it is—if you have the skill, come and take it.”

He swept his eyes arrogantly over the crowd, his expression utterly disdainful.

Li Sanjian shook his head, intending to take Little Bean Sprout and leave. Though he didn’t know why Zhen Nanjiao was boasting so brashly, he could guess it was all for show.

In this world, reputation was valued even above life itself. Some would sacrifice everything for it. Yet to seek empty fame by such means was, in Li Sanjian’s eyes, contemptible.

“Braggart, don’t get ahead of yourself!” Just as Li Sanjian was about to turn away, a shout rang out. A bold man leapt onto the ring, pointing at Zhen Nanjiao. “Today, I’ll show you—ow!”

Before he could finish, Zhen Nanjiao lunged forward. In a flash, he was upon the smaller man and, without even grappling, sent him tumbling off the earthen platform.

The crowd stared in stunned silence before bursting into laughter, though inwardly they were all unsettled by Zhen Nanjiao’s dominance.

“One alone is no match—come up several at once,” Zhen Nanjiao announced, folding his arms over his chest, more pleased than ever.

“We’ll take you on!” Two more challengers, enraged, sprang onto the ring together, launching simultaneous flying kicks at Zhen Nanjiao.

Wrestling in this spectacle allowed for punches and kicks, so martial prowess was fair game.

In an instant, the two feet struck Zhen Nanjiao’s chest. The crowd heard only two muffled thuds and assumed, at the very least, Zhen Nanjiao would stagger back, if not spit blood.

But to their astonishment, apart from two footprints on his chest, the kicks had no effect whatsoever.

Zhen Nanjiao didn’t take a single step back, nor did his stance shift in the slightest. He just looked coldly at the two men.

Each of the two had one foot planted on his chest, the other on the ground; advance or retreat, neither was possible, and both stood there awkwardly.

“My friend, could you step aside a bit and let me rest for a moment?” one of them ventured.

“Oh?” Zhen Nanjiao replied, suddenly stepping back half a pace. The two, losing their balance, hastily withdrew their feet, their movements flustered.

“My apologies...” Zhen Nanjiao grinned, then thrust his chest forward, driving it into their legs. With tremendous force, he sent both men flying into the crowd.

They landed as gracefully as they had leapt onto the ring.

“Is there anyone else?” Zhen Nanjiao asked, arms crossed.

His presence now truly cowed the spectators into silence; not a soul dared respond.

“May I try?” Ran Yunbiao, youthful and hot-blooded, could no longer contain his indignation. He planted his feet and vaulted onto the ring.

“Mingshi, you—what are you doing? Wait!” Li Sanjian called out, but Ran Yunbiao was already on the platform.

That wrestler’s insults were far too sweeping; why put yourself in harm’s way? Li Sanjian grumbled inwardly, but then noticed that it was not only Ran Yunbiao who had leapt up, but another as well.

He looked quickly and was greatly surprised—wasn’t this his junior apprentice, Yao Yu (Uncle Xing)? Who else could it be?

What is he doing here? Li Sanjian wondered.

“Young brother, step down. Let me handle this one,” Yao Yu said to Ran Yunbiao.

“My friend, allow me,” Ran Yunbiao replied. He was sturdily built and had made the effort to get onto the ring; having already spoken out, and with a voice like thunder, how could he just slink off without a fight? Besides, Yao Yu was of slender build and appeared rather scholarly—not Zhen Nanjiao’s match, Ran Yunbiao thought.

“Young brother, you’re too young for this one. Leave quickly,” Yao Yu said impatiently.

No matter how strong Ran Yunbiao was, he was only eighteen—there was still a gap between him and a fully grown man.

“What of it? Just because I’m young, I can’t fight?” Ran Yunbiao bristled, and the two began to argue.

Zhen Nanjiao, arms crossed, watched them squabble, and said impatiently, “Enough chatter. Which of you is coming? Or will you both come at once?”

“Down you go...” Ran Yunbiao was still hesitating when he suddenly felt a powerful force push him off the stage against his will.

Yao Yu then folded his fists to Zhen Nanjiao and said, “I am a martial scholar from Lingnan. Please grant me your instruction.”

Zhen Nanjiao, seeing Yao Yu’s poised demeanor, sized him up, then bent his knees, spread his arms, and slowly advanced.

Yao Yu did not dare be careless, clenching his fists until his veins stood out, moving cautiously, ready for the impending assault.

At that moment, both on the ring and off, all were silent; the spectators held their breath, anticipating this coming clash of dragons and tigers.

After a tense standoff, Zhen Nanjiao let out a low growl and lunged at Yao Yu, arms outstretched to grab and throw him, intending to end the match then and there.

Though strong, Zhen Nanjiao had been shirtless in the cold for some time and was starting to feel the chill.

He struck out, his palms making a sound that seemed to split the air, his attack fierce and forceful.

He moved swiftly, reaching Yao Yu in a flash.

But as his arms were about to close, Yao Yu flipped backward, slipping out of range.

With a tiger’s roar, Zhen Nanjiao charged again, but Yao Yu leapt away once more.

“Bravo! Bravo!” the spectators shouted, seeing Yao Yu’s nimble movements.

“Today I’ve witnessed a true master!”

After three attacks, Zhen Nanjiao still had not caught Yao Yu. On the last attempt, his knee struck Yao Yu’s waist, sending him tumbling.

The crowd gasped in alarm.

Suppressing his pain, Yao Yu sprang to his feet in a carp’s leap and resumed his evasive maneuvers.

His agility matched against Zhen Nanjiao’s overwhelming force, the contest went back and forth for over ten exchanges, with no clear victor. Yet it was plain to the crowd that Yao Yu, driven around the ring, was only a few moves away from defeat.