"Fine, boy! You've got guts!"
"You're young enough to be my grandson!"
"And you dare boast that you'll give your grandpa here three free moves?"
"Then let your grandpa see what this damned Boat Boxing of yours can do!"
The hale old man snorted, his words merciless and his eyes wide, carrying the fervent air of his generation.
But once he assumed the Tiger-Grabbing Stance of Three Sovereigns Cannon Punch, he adopted the proper etiquette of a martial artist about to spar. Cupping his fist, he declared firmly, "Lin Yuanchao, Three Emperors Cannon Fist School of the Northern Capital!"
"Chen Jue, Boat Boxing of An County, Wenzhou!" Chen Jue returned the salute with a smile and assumed the opening posture of the Eight Immortals Stance. He knew the old man's seemingly mocking remarks had actually been a distraction tactic before the fight.
Martial artists of old called it "Mouth Fighting," while people today commonly called it "Verbal Cannon." The aim was to deliberately provoke an opponent before a match and disrupt their thoughts.
But Chen Jue had succeeded in core formation, drawing all his vital essence and energy inward, his mind as calm as still water. How could a few cheap verbal jabs disturb him?
Seeing his master take up a fighting stance and announce his school, Yao San, the instigator standing nearby, knew this dispute would not be easily resolved. He looked thoroughly miserable but did not dare step in, knowing his stubborn master's temper.
He was like a stone in a latrine-stinking, hard, and utterly inflexible! Once he fixed on some rigid principle, he would never change his mind easily. As the old Northern Capital saying went, he was "stubborn as hell!"
Yao San had never imagined that casually watching Chen Jue practice for a while and receiving