Chapter 88: Becoming a Disciple, Ahhh

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: Becoming a Disciple, Ahhh

"What’s going on? What happened?"

"Why’s the Hall Master on the stage? Is he going to fight?"

"Who is that young man? He dares fight the Hall Master!"

"That kid is here to challenge the hall. Don’t underestimate him. Coach Yu Bin was just sent flying off the stage with a single kick."

"Holy shit, a hall challenge? This is the first time I’ve ever seen one. Quick, I’m getting my phone out to record a video!"

"You’re just thinking of that now? I’ve been recording this whole time, hehe. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn a move or two and become a total badass!"

"That young man is really strong. He could probably go toe-to-toe with the Hall Master!"

"What? Coach Yu Bin is so tough, but he lost in a single move?"

Below the stage, a bustling crowd murmured excitedly, the students whispering amongst themselves in a flurry of discussion. As they talked, their gazes, filled with excitement and anticipation, were glued to the two men on the stage.

On the stage, Ye Xing and Wu Qiang stood on opposite sides, facing each other.

’Judging by Wu Qiang’s stance, maybe he’s actually got some skill,’ Ye Xing thought, glancing at Wu Qiang’s solid footing and nodding inwardly.

Wu Qiang accepted the challenge. As someone below the stage finished a countdown—three, two, one—Wu Qiang exploded into motion like a tiger pouncing from a mountain. He kicked off the ground, launching himself into the air and swinging a massive fist straight at Ye Xing’s head.

It was the same move, just as simple and brutal, yet its power and speed far surpassed what Coach Yu Bin had displayed. Empowered by ferocious strength, the massive fist moved so incredibly fast that the onlookers around the stage couldn’t even track it.

’Huh, he’s a lot faster than that square-faced guy from before. A Hall Master, indeed. But still... far too slow!’ Ye Xing thought, shaking his head inwardly and suppressing the urge to send Wu Qiang flying with a kick.

Ye Xing was now a Martial Artist at the Martial Arts Second Realm Peak. While the Changchun Hall Master Wu Qiang’s strength might be considered expert level here on Earth, on the Martial Arts Continent, he would be, at best, an ordinary person in the Body Refining Stage. Ye Xing could defeat him in an instant; sending him flying with a single kick would be effortless. But he restrained himself. He was here today not just to stand up for Dazhuang, but also to teach Wu Qiang a lesson. Since a coach from the Changchun Martial Arts Hall, Wu Feng, was the one who stole the grass carp feed, it was highly likely Wu Qiang was the one pulling the strings. Ye Xing decided to rough him up first. It was always easier to get the truth out of someone after you’d beaten them into submission.

The wind howled from his fist. To the crowd below, Wu Qiang’s speed was incredible. But to Ye Xing, it was laughably slow. He couldn’t even be bothered to use his Inner Power True Qi.

Ye Xing stood with his hands behind his back, his posture unchanged. Just as Wu Qiang’s fist was about to crash into his face, in that split second, he raised a hand. The movement seemed slow but was deceptively fast. He caught Wu Qiang’s ferocious punch in his grasp, bringing it to a dead stop.

"This... this is impossible! How can he be so terrifyingly fast?" Wu Qiang’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t even seen how Ye Xing moved, and his own swift punch was already stopped cold.

Ignoring the shock that gripped his heart, Wu Qiang frantically tried to pull his fist back. He struggled with all his might, his face turning red with exertion, but his fist remained motionless, held firmly in Ye Xing’s palm.

"Too weak," Ye Xing said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a mocking smirk.

Wu Qiang frantically raised his left leg, whipping a vicious sweeping kick toward Ye Xing’s waist, trying to force him to let go.

Yet Ye Xing’s stance remained firm, his upper body barely even moving. He simply raised his free hand and swatted it down, perfectly connecting with Wu Qiang’s shin.

With a muffled grunt, Wu Qiang lost his balance completely. His body pitched forward uncontrollably, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor.

Just then, Ye Xing grabbed Wu Qiang by the collar and yanked him close.

And then—

SLAP! SLAP SLAP SLAP!

A series of sharp slaps echoed as Ye Xing struck Wu Qiang across the face several times.

As the saying goes, you don’t hit a man in the face. Ye Xing’s actions instantly sent the coaches below into a collective fury. They may have been coaches now, but they’d all run with gangs in the past. To see someone humiliate their boss like this was no different from slapping them all. To hell with the rules of the match—they rolled up their sleeves and rushed the stage.

"All of you, get back down—" Wu Qiang panicked. ’These idiots rushing the stage are completely breaking the rules of the hall! This is a match, not a gang fight!’ As someone who loved and worshipped National Martial Arts, the last thing he wanted was to see the hall’s rules shattered. Even in a challenge, a loss should be faced with honor. More importantly, the young man before him was incredibly powerful—a true, legendary National Martial Arts Master. He had dreamed of meeting such an expert and begging for a pointer or two. If his men broke protocol in front of a master like this, how could he possibly ask...?

However, before he could finish his sentence, another slap from Ye Xing silenced him.

"All together now! Let’s kill him!" A dozen or so coaches swarmed Ye Xing. The sight made Zhu Dazhuang turn pale with fright. He was about to rush in to help, but the scene that unfolded next made his eyes bulge.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

The moment the dozen-odd men got close, they were sent flying backward one after another like human sandbags. THUD. THUD. THUD. They crashed to the floor, where they lay screaming in agony.

In just a few short seconds, more than a dozen men were laid out on the ground, beaten so badly they couldn’t even crawl. Everyone present was frozen in absolute shock.

"Want to keep fighting?"

In the center of the stage, Ye Xing held Wu Qiang suspended in midair by his collar with one hand. He looked as casual as if he were holding a kitten. There wasn’t a single mark on him from the fight—not even a wrinkle on his clothes. In other words, despite being swarmed by all those coaches, not a single one had managed to even touch the hem of his shirt.

"So damn cool! He’s monstrously strong!" Zhu Dazhuang and the surrounding students were dumbfounded, their gazes filled with pure adoration as they stared at Ye Xing.

The dozen or so coaches were still on the ground, struggling to get up. For one, each had taken a kick from Ye Xing; while the injuries weren’t life-threatening, they were incredibly painful, making it nearly impossible to stand. For another, they were simply terrified. Who would dare to get up just to get beaten down again?

In that moment, Ye Xing was, in the eyes of everyone present, an absolute master. The very thought of resisting him was unimaginable.

"ARGH!" "AAAH!" "UGH!"

The dozen or so coaches lay on the ground, screaming in agony.

One well-built young man among them screamed the most pitifully, as his injuries were the most severe—he likely had several broken ribs. This was no coincidence. He was receiving "special treatment" from Ye Xing, as this was Wu Wei, the very man who had beaten Zhu Dazhuang that morning. Zhu Dazhuang wasn’t just Ye Xing’s good friend; he had been running an errand for him. Now that his friend had been beaten, how could Ye Xing possibly let Wu Wei off the hook?

Seeing that there were no more challengers, Ye Xing finally let Wu Qiang down. Wu Qiang gasped for breath a few times, but despite the beating, his face showed no anger. Instead, it was flushed with excitement. He bowed deeply, his eyes full of adoration. "S-Sir... you’re incredible! Can I... can I become your disciple?"

Wu Qiang was obsessed with National Martial Arts and had visited many National Martial Arts Masters in his time, all of whom were quite skilled. But compared to the man standing before him, they were all complete and utter garbage. They weren’t even in the same league.

Seeing their Hall Master ask to become a disciple, the surrounding students and coaches suddenly snapped to their senses, their eyes shining with realization.

"Yeah, Master, can you take us as your disciples too!"

"So incredible! I want to be his student, AHHH!"

"That guy is so cool! So damn strong!"

"Sir, will you take me as your disciple? My family is loaded! I’ll pay any amount for tuition!"

"If I could learn even a fraction of this Master’s skill, I’d be the most badass mofo on the streets!"

"HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT! That was so fucking awesome! This is real kung fu! Today, I’ve seen the light! I HAVE to be his disciple, AHHHH!"

The students all roared, their eyes burning with feverish admiration as they swarmed him like bees to honey.

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