One Move to Knock Down

His voice rang out like a bell, carrying across half the Martial Arts Arena.

Everyone's movements stopped.

Those practicing stance drew in their stances; those practicing fists pulled back their fists.

More than twenty pairs of eyes turned in unison toward the middle of the arena.

After a brief silence, a burst of jeering rose from the crowd.

Some clapped and cheered, some whistled, and others stretched their throats and shouted, "Senior Brother Chen, Zhou Fan is the best-trained among us in the outer courtyard. Why don't you give him a few pointers?"

Chen Jing's brows lifted slightly.

He did not know who Zhou Fan was.

But mastering stance work in the outer courtyard did indeed count as being among the best.

Mei Qinghe had mentioned before that most of Cheng Lianshan's inner-courtyard disciples had been selected only after making a name for themselves in the outer courtyard.

This Zhou Fan was probably the one closest to entering the inner courtyard.

Since Chen Jing had dropped in out of nowhere, no wonder he felt unconvinced.

But Chen Jing also knew that if he handled this challenge poorly, he could forget about holding his head up in the martial hall from now on.

Those watching, doubting, and gloating gazes—

All of them were waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Ignoring everyone around him, Chen Jing smiled faintly at Zhou Fan.

"Since you want to spar, then come."

Zhou Fan abruptly raised his head. A trace of disbelief flashed through his eyes, then turned into excitement.

He had not expected Chen Jing to actually agree.

He had thought this inner-courtyard backdoor disciple would surely find some excuse to refuse. Though that would not count as a win, at the very least it would make Chen Jing show weakness in front of everyone.

But not only had Chen Jing accepted, he had accepted so cleanly.

The crowd scattered with a whoosh.

A large open space was cleared in the center of the Martial Arts Arena.

More than twenty people formed a circle, whispering among themselves, excited as if they were watching a grand play.

Zhou Fan walked to the center of the circle and faced Chen Jing directly.

With proper courtesy, he cupped his hands toward Chen Jing.

"Senior Brother Chen, please instruct me."

Chen Jing gave a slight nod and said calmly, "Just do as you will."

At that, another flare of anger rose in Zhou Fan. He was clearly a youth about the same age as him, yet he was putting on airs as if he were some senior of the martial path.

He said no more. His feet spread shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and he assumed the posture of the Fierce Tiger Stance.

His hands took the shape of tiger claws, held across in front of him.

The Tiger Form Fist taught in the outer courtyard was a simplified version of the Nine Forms of the Mountain Lord. Though it was far from as subtle and profound as the inner courtyard's Nine Forms of the Mountain Lord, Its strength lay in being solid, fierce, and forceful.

Every punch and every kick was hard-earned, real effort.

Zhou Fan's stance frame was indeed quite good. His spine sank low, his breathing was deep and heavy, and his whole person was like a fierce tiger gathering power, ready to spring.

He already had a hint of tiger form to him.

Chen Jing stood three steps away opposite him, his posture loose, his hands hanging naturally at his sides. Astonishingly, it seemed he had not even raised his stance work.

Without standing his stance and drawing in his strength, Chen Jing's force would be scattered, and his reaction time would be at least one to two breaths slower than Zhou Fan's.

One faced him as though confronting a great enemy; the other was light as clouds and wind.

Standing together, the contrast was stark.

A nameless fire shot up in Zhou Fan's heart. He dares look down on me like this? He suddenly stamped off the ground, advanced, and threw a punch.

The punch shot out straight and level. The wind of the fist tore through the air, heading right for Chen Jing's chest.

Then he saw Chen Jing move.

His figure flashed, so fast he was like a shadow.

Zhou Fan's fist struck empty air.

His pupils shrank sharply. Chen Jing had already appeared at his side.

He wanted to retract his fist and defend, but it was already too late. A knife-hand chopped in from the side without a sound, landing with pinpoint precision on the back of his neck.

The force was not heavy; it could even be said to have been held back.

But the angle was tricky to the extreme.

It landed precisely where the carotid artery and nerves converged.

Zhou Fan only felt his vision go black, and then his entire body lost consciousness.

With a boom, he pitched headfirst to the ground.

The Martial Arts Arena fell deathly silent.

Those who had been jeering, whistling, and whispering to one another just moments ago all looked like ducks with their necks gripped tight.

Every one of them had their mouths hanging open, unable to make a sound.

Zhou Fan was the best-trained among them in the outer courtyard, his stance work at great accomplishment, and his Tiger Form Fist among the top few.

Yet Chen Jing had dropped him in a single move. The gap was already so wide that they could not even summon the strength to feel jealous.

Chen Jing withdrew his knife-hand, patted at the nonexistent dust on his lapel, and swept his gaze over the crowd encircling them.

Everyone his eyes passed over subconsciously took half a step back.

"All right. The excitement's over. Go back to your training."

Chen Jing's voice was not loud, and his tone was mild.

But not a single person dared make another sound.

The crowd scattered with a whoosh, each returning to their own place and burying themselves in hard training, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

Chen Jing casually pointed at the two disciples closest to him.

"You two. Carry him under the shade."

"He'll wake up on his own in a while."

The two were so frightened they nodded and stammered submissively, hurriedly bending down to prop Zhou Fan up, then dragging him in a fluster to the edge of the field beneath the old locust tree.

Chen Jing stood at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena, his face unruffled, while in his heart he silently replayed the exchange just now.

Zhou Fan's stance work was indeed at great accomplishment. If this had been half a month ago, Chen Jing probably would have needed to put in some effort to win.

But now his stance work was perfected, and every day he used Tiger Roar Force to shake his marrow. His blood, qi, and force had increased severalfold and more compared with when he had first entered Green Mountain City.

The two of them simply were not on the same level.

The reason he had agreed to spar was also to crush all doubts in one stroke. From the looks of it now, the effect was not bad.

Half an hour later.

Zhang Chengji came back with light steps, carrying two boxes of pastries.

The moment he walked into the Martial Arts Arena, he felt the atmosphere was a little off. The disciples were all bent over their training, each more serious than the last, so quiet it was unnatural. Then he saw Zhou Fan still lying unconscious under the old locust tree.

"What happened?"

Zhang Chengji put down the pastries, his brows drawing together.

Chen Jing briefly explained the matter, from Zhou Fan issuing the challenge to Chen Jing knocking him down. In a few words, he neither added oil nor vinegar.

After Zhang Chengji listened, his frown deepened.

"Martial artists sparring is something seen so often it becomes commonplace."

"But that boy Zhou Fan clearly had thoughts in his heart and used the name of sparring to find fault. It's just as well he was taught a lesson by Junior Brother, lest he keep his eyes higher than the crown of his head and not know there are heavens beyond the heavens."

"Don't worry. I'll warn him not to harbor crooked thoughts in the future. If there's a next time, he'll be expelled from the martial hall."

Chen Jing nodded. "I'll leave it to Senior Brother to handle."

Zhang Chengji was more experienced than him in handling martial hall affairs, and Chen Jing was too lazy to bother with these trifles outside of martial training.

With the matter settled, Chen Jing cupped his fist toward Zhang Chengji, then turned and strode out of the martial hall, heading in the direction of the docks.

The Golden Water River ran across Green Mountain City, dividing the city into two halves.

The south-city docks were the liveliest place in the entire city. Freight gathered and scattered there, all walks of life converged, ships connected bow to stern across the river, and mules and horses neighed along the shore.

Chen Jing walked along the dockside.

He saw groups of porters carrying hemp sacks back and forth over the gangplanks, while bare-chested boatmen crouched on the gunwales smoking.

Account clerks sat beneath awnings, their abacuses clacking away in a crackling rhythm. It was a scene of noisy, vigorous street life.

Liang Youheng was standing by the bank, an account book in hand, checking goods while making marks in the ledger.

Chen Jing walked over and called out, "Sixth Senior Brother."

Liang Youheng looked up and, seeing it was Chen Jing, showed a bit of surprise on his face before smiling.

"Little Junior Brother, how do you have time to come out today?"

"Aren't you usually doing extra training in the Martial Arts Arena at this hour?"

"I came to look for Third Senior Brother and see whether there's any money-making work."

Chen Jing swept his gaze around but did not see Liu Yunfei anywhere. "Where is he?"

"Third Senior Brother..."

The smile on Liang Youheng's face stiffened slightly, and his eyes flicked, intentionally or otherwise, toward a noisy storefront not far away.

Chen Jing followed his gaze.

It was a gambling house.

A faded signboard hung over the lintel: Gold and Silver Gambling House.

Two broken tables had been set up by the entrance, and several idlers were gathered there throwing dice. Their shouts of "five" and "six" could be heard from half a street away.

Chen Jing understood at once. He grinned and cupped his hands toward Liang Youheng.

"Sixth Senior Brother, you're busy. I can go by myself."

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