Catching Birds (Please Read On)

Four Seas Martial Arts Hall.

Silly Qiang scratched his head as he stepped down from the platform, looking at Li Xiuwen with a bitter smile. "Awen, sorry. The pressure's all on you now."

"You were too hasty. If you'd held steady for a few more moves, you would've won," Li Xiuwen sighed.

"My comprehension's poor. My fighting style has been stuck at the threshold of minor mastery for half a month. I just can't break through," Silly Qiang said helplessly.

Li Xiuwen had the incense burner and no bottlenecks in cultivation, so he did not understand Silly Qiang's hardship.

"Awen, it's up to you." A Zhen tugged on Li Xiuwen's arm.

Even Silly Qiang had lost. Other than a miracle, she could not imagine how Awen could win.

Tian Er was even stronger than Wen Wu, second only to Longlegs Seven.

Liu Chun's expression was complicated. He did not like Li Xiuwen, who was, after all, his competitor.

But at this moment, he also wanted Li Xiuwen to win and restore some pride to their style.

Li Xiuwen stepped onto the platform.

The tall, burly Tian Er leaped up as well, grinning smugly. The night heron on his training uniform looked ready to spread its wings and take flight, flamboyant and unrestrained.

"We came to challenge your hall full of eager anticipation, only to leave disappointed... You're too weak!" He raised his middle finger, making no effort to hide his mockery and ridicule.

Between martial arts styles, everyone fought for fame and profit.

Trash talk before a match was standard practice in the ring.

Li Xiuwen still clasped his fists politely and smiled. "Sea Sand Style, Li Xiuwen. Please instruct me!"

Below the platform, cross-eyed Wen Wu stared at Li Xiuwen, feeling that he had seen him somewhere before.

"Senior Brother, isn't this kid the one who came to ask to become our disciple before?"

Longlegs Seven frowned deeply and muttered, "It's him... This old scallion has trained for less than two months, yet he's qualified to step onto the platform already?"

"Strange. Could his natural talent be that of an exceptional person as well?" Wen Wu wondered.

"He's probably just here to make up the numbers," Black Dog said. "Or maybe Master Huang force-fed him Fish Ball until he developed a Purple Membrane for this martial meet?"

"Even if he has the talent of an exceptional person, he started too late at his age. It'll be difficult for him to permanently stabilize at the peak before his vitality and blood decline," Longlegs Seven shook his head.

Given his status and position, he did not care at all that he had rejected Li Xiuwen back then. It had been his master's decision anyway.

Even if Li Xiuwen had some skill, it was nothing worth mentioning.

In the grand chair, Huang Sihai's eyelids drooped. He had already stopped paying attention to the matches on the first floor. They could only wait to win back a few rounds on the second floor.

Master Ye smiled. "Old Huang, that's not very fair of you. You even take in someone this old. Could it be that his natural talent is excellent?"

Huang Sihai replied calmly, "What's wrong with his age? He's only trained for a little over a month, and he already has a Purple Membrane. Is he really so inferior to those youngsters of yours?"

Master Ye became interested and gave Li Xiuwen a close look. "Don't tell me he was force-fed Fish Ball to get there? There's no need to go that far."

Old Huang said nothing, and Master Ye immediately knew that was most likely the case.

Unless his aptitude was exceptional, how could he possibly develop a Purple Membrane in just over a month?

"Ten moves. If you're still standing on the platform after that, you can be proud of yourself."

Tian Er moved, swift as lightning. His arms spread wide like a waterbird skimming over a lake, his presence overwhelming.

Li Xiuwen recalled the dozen or so battles he had fought Tian Er the night before. He knew this fist style's practical offensive and defensive techniques inside out.

This move is meant to confuse my vision. I just need to remain still and respond to movement.

Li Xiuwen stood in the center, immovable as a mountain, waiting for Tian Er to truly close in.

He struck with his palm in an instant. Waves Sifting Sand, fierce and powerful, erupted at the slightest touch.

Tian Er flashed aside and evaded it.

His palm strike missed, and Li Xiuwen seemed slightly unsteady, taking two more steps forward from the momentum.

"Can't hold on right after exchanging blows?"

Tian Er closed in with three steps, letting out a sharp cry as his Waterbird Fist descended straight toward Li Xiuwen's back.

Yet Li Xiuwen seemed to have anticipated it. He bent backward and dodged the punch.

At the same time, his right leg swept out like a gale scattering fallen leaves. The air cracked sharply, and the blast of wind swept dust across the platform.

In that instant, Tian Er, who had come to seize Li Xiuwen's opening, exposed an opening himself. He was tripped, and his footwork instantly fell into disarray.

Within that tiny space, Li Xiuwen unleashed his soft palm technique, sending wave upon wave of force into Tian Er's back.

Second level of Sand-Turning Palm, Surging Undercurrent!

The thick flesh on Tian Er's back rippled in layers, his bones shuddering as his face turned livid.

His feet flew as he retreated to the edge of the platform. Just as he seemed about to fall, he abruptly steadied himself.

His feet shifted, stepping along the scant edge of the platform as he nimbly circled back in.

"Movement technique?" Huang Sihai had just glimpsed a sliver of hope, but his expression immediately turned grave. "Master Ye, you really are generous, teaching a movement technique to a Pine Hall disciple."

"Did your disciple train at my Night Heron Martial Arts Hall before?" Master Ye was somewhat surprised as well.

For some reason, he felt that Li Xiuwen understood the workings of Waterbird Fist extremely well, as though he had personally sparred with Tian Er many times.

This kid understood the intent behind every one of Tian Er's moves. He could even sell false openings, lure Tian Er in, then strike back.

If he had not specifically taught Tian Er a movement technique, Tian Er might really have stumbled in the gutter.

Huang Sihai sneered. "What's so difficult about your Waterbird Fist? It's nothing more than a variant of White Crane Style. I've taken him to watch enough major matches."

Old Huang was rather pleased. Li Xiuwen's aptitude for fighting styles and actual combat was truly something.

Tian Er's expression turned serious. "I was careless. Li Xiuwen, was it? I'll remember you."

"You talk too much," Li Xiuwen said, feeling a bit of a headache himself.

When he had fought Tian Er the night before, the man had not used a movement technique even once.

That meant Tian Er had not known one a little over a month ago. He must have learned it only recently.

The two became entangled in combat. Tian Er held the advantage in speed due to his movement technique, and Li Xiuwen's palm strikes repeatedly missed.

But Li Xiuwen could always accurately judge Tian Er's attacks and neutralize them one by one.

Tian Er had the illusion that he was fighting naked. Why does he know my Waterbird Fist so well?

Unable to understand, Tian Er circled around him, searching for a way to defeat him.

After more than a hundred exchanges, Tian Er was panting heavily, while Li Xiuwen was breathing only slightly harder.

Sea Sand Style had greater endurance than Night Heron Style to begin with.

If they kept fighting, he could still win even if his opponent had a movement technique. Thus, he was in no hurry.

Tian Er was.

His three fellow disciples before him had all won beautifully.

But when it came to him, he was dragging things out and even looking somewhat miserable.

Even if he won, it would not be glorious. It would make him seem like the weakest one.

"This punch will defeat you!"

Tian Er let out a long cry. His body skimmed across the ground, sliding more than a yard as his arms whirled into afterimages, like a flock of birds blotting out the sky with nowhere to evade.

This was a technique that could only be practiced once Waterbird Fist had reached a sufficiently deep level of minor mastery. Its name was: Thousand Egrets.

His Waterbird Fist was already nearing major mastery, far more powerful than Black Dog's and Wen Wu's.

Below the platform, Liu Chun and the others' hearts rose into their throats.

Li Xiuwen darted through the shadows, avoiding one afterimage after another and skillfully locating Tian Er's true body.

His rough, broad hands seized Tian Er's arms. Then he rammed forward with the momentum, like the sky collapsing, knocking Tian Er off balance and forcing him to stagger back again and again.

Li Xiuwen pressed the attack, driving down a palm that looked soft and powerless.

Tian Er wanted to trade injury for injury and kill him in one blow, so he chose to take the strike head-on, thrusting his chest forward.

Layer upon layer of force erupted in an instant.

That seemingly weak palm carried the force of a thousand pounds!

Tian Er's expression changed dramatically, his face flushing red as he choked out, "Your Sand-Turning Palm has reached minor mastery?"