Chapter 43: If You Fear Death, Then Come Down

When Chu Tianfeng and the young man with the braid arrived at the arena, a match was already underway on the ring.

The arena itself was not very large, covering at most two thousand square meters. At its center stood a wooden platform, about seventy to eighty centimeters high, and over ten meters in both length and width. Railings enclosed the four sides of the ring, while several huge display screens hung overhead.

Around the ring were five or six rows of seats on each side, packed tightly with spectators—Chu Tianfeng estimated there were three to four hundred people present.

“Mr. Lin, please wait here. When it’s your turn, we’ll call you,” the young man with the braid said calmly, leading Chu Tianfeng to a lounge beside the arena.

“Who are those two up there?” Chu Tianfeng asked, pointing at the LED screen on the lounge wall.

“The shirtless one is the little apprentice from Thailand. His opponent is, naturally, the challenger,” the young man replied, then sat down by himself, making it clear he had no time for idle chat.

Left with nothing else to do, Chu Tianfeng sat before the monitor, watching the two men fight.

Even though he couldn’t discern their cultivation levels from the screen, Chu Tianfeng was no stranger to martial artists. Judging by their punching speed and agility, he estimated both were at the mid-stage of dark energy cultivation.

The little apprentice from Thailand seemed to punch a bit faster than the challenger, and his angles were more cunning. His footwork was nimble, and he repeatedly used his knees in coordination with his legs to attack, putting the challenger at a disadvantage time and again.

After grasping the patterns and characteristics of their techniques, Chu Tianfeng lost interest. Such a cultivation level was nothing to him, but as for how to fight and win, that required careful thought.

He was here to make money, and fighting was his means to that end. The next match would be against a local fighter—if he knocked the man out too quickly, the little apprentice might get scared and quit, costing him one fight and thus losing him eleven thousand yuan.

He still didn’t know the cultivation level of the Thai master—which meant that eleven thousand was an unknown. At present, the apprentice’s eleven thousand seemed a sure thing. So, his best strategy was to hold onto this opportunity and not let it slip away.

Therefore, in the next bout against the local fighter, he had to win, but not too convincingly; otherwise, the apprentice’s eleven thousand might evaporate.

Soon, the match on the ring ended, and the Thai apprentice successfully defended his title.

The young man with the braid was the first to rise, swinging his head. “Mr. Lin, it’s your turn!”

Chu Tianfeng deliberately jumped up as if injected with adrenaline, letting out a bizarre howl that nearly made the young man blurt out “clown.”

“Mr. Lin, you can’t take your bag onto the ring,” the young man reminded him.

“Oh, I’ll leave it by the side,” Chu Tianfeng replied, shrugging.

When he reached the edge of the ring, he deliberately slowed his movements, taking his time to set down his bag and climb onto the platform.

The referee was a middle-aged man with a square face, a whistle in his mouth, and a higher cultivation—at the mid-stage of energy transformation.

“I will now repeat the rules,” the referee announced once Chu Tianfeng was steady, raising his right index finger. “The following circumstances result in a loss: one, not following the referee’s orders or refusing to obey; two, leaving the ring during the bout; three, not getting up within ten seconds after falling; four, conceding defeat during the fight. In addition, you may attack any part of your opponent’s body, but the use of weapons, tools, devices, hidden weapons, and so forth is strictly forbidden. Violation means immediate loss and corresponding penalties.”

Just then, the doors of the arena opened again, and in walked two beautiful girls.

Chu Tianfeng glanced at them casually and frowned. Without a doubt, Hua Wu and Lin Qian had come for him, but he had no idea why they were following him, let alone why they would enter such a place so openly.

Hua Wu’s expression grew more complicated as she watched Chu Tianfeng on the ring. She and Lin Qian had searched all over: restaurants, bathhouses, casinos, and teahouses, before finally finding this place. She never expected Chu Tianfeng to show up here, much less to climb onto the ring.

In the past, she would have rushed up to drag him down, but after all they had been through, she no longer believed Chu Tianfeng was simply fooling around.

She still remembered vividly the day at the film set when Chu Tianfeng revealed his power, and his miraculous medical skills at noon had completely changed her view of him.

She didn’t know the reason for all of this, but she knew Chu Tianfeng was different now; he was no longer the timid, useless extra he once was.

She pulled Lin Qian to sit in an empty spot by the door, worriedly watching Chu Tianfeng in the ring.

Chu Tianfeng could read the concern in her eyes but couldn’t reassure her openly.

He considered sending her a message using his true energy—an internal voice transmission—but this method had a major flaw: if anyone present had a higher cultivation than himself, they could easily intercept the message.

Chu Tianfeng wasn’t sure if anyone in the room surpassed him, but he dared not risk it. He knew that if someone did overhear, both he and Hua Wu would be in danger.

“Any other questions?” the referee’s voice rang out at the right moment.

“No,” the fighter replied, shaking his head.

He was a burly young man with a face full of menace, wearing a sleeveless shirt that made him look ferocious. But his cultivation was unimpressive, only at the early stage of dark energy.

“Wait a moment,” Chu Tianfeng raised his right hand high, “I’d like a drink of water.”

The entire crowd burst out laughing, while Hua Wu’s face turned beet red.

“If you’re scared, just get down,” someone jeered.

“Don’t worry, after you’re dead, I’ll take care of your wife,” another heckled.

Soon, almost the entire audience was booing, mocking Chu Tianfeng.

“Hey man, protect your jewels—don’t let them get smashed!”

“Squeeze your legs tight; forty years of virtue isn’t easy to come by!”

“Damn, I actually bet on him to win.”

At this critical moment, the referee showed some decency. With a wave of his hand, a staff member promptly brought a bottle of mineral water.

Chu Tianfeng, feigning a trembling hand, twisted off the cap and guzzled the water, all the while keeping his eyes on the big screen showing the betting odds.

Perhaps because of his age, more people had bet on him to win, but the odds were lower—just one to one.

“Ready to begin?” Even the referee was growing impatient.

“All right,” Chu Tianfeng replied, tossing the empty bottle to the staff member.

“Tonight’s sixth bout: Lin Feng versus Min Jinsong. Begin!” The referee, finally hearing Chu Tianfeng’s assent, blew his whistle without hesitation.

Min Jinsong had long been annoyed by Chu Tianfeng. The moment the whistle blew, he stomped his foot, feinted with his right fist, and charged at Chu Tianfeng.

Chu Tianfeng dodged aside.

Min Jinsong didn’t let up, swinging another punch as he turned.

Chu Tianfeng dodged again.

Now Min Jinsong was really angry. He launched a flurry of punches with both hands—a combo.

Chu Tianfeng scrambled and tumbled, narrowly avoiding the blows.

Such antics on the ring did not please the audience below. They had paid to watch boxing, not a footrace.

Soon, the heckling resumed.

“Clown, are you going to fight or not?”

“If you’re doomed anyway, die quickly and be done with it.”

“Damn, I bet a hundred thousand on him to win—what a joke!”

Min Jinsong shot Chu Tianfeng a vicious glare, gritted his teeth, and charged again, this time with no tricks—his right fist aimed straight for Chu Tianfeng’s face.

This time Chu Tianfeng didn’t dodge. He deliberately hesitated for half a second, and just as Min Jinsong reached him, he suddenly thrust out his right fist.

Bang!

Min Jinsong’s right fist stopped just an inch from Chu Tianfeng’s chin, while Chu Tianfeng’s right fist landed squarely on Min Jinsong’s chest.

Chu Tianfeng tilted his head, purposely letting his chin slam into Min Jinsong’s fist, then staggered back with a howl.

He crashed into the railing, clutching it with one hand, biting his lip so hard his mouth bled profusely.

The crowd erupted in cheers, while Hua Wu covered her mouth, her eyes moist.

Now she finally understood why Chu Tianfeng had become a stuntman, why he fought so desperately.

Min Jinsong, though his breath was scattered from Chu Tianfeng’s punch, saw Chu Tianfeng grimacing with blood at his mouth and thought his opponent was also badly hurt. He felt a surge of secret delight.

Chu Tianfeng, supporting his chin with his gloved hand, glared angrily at Min Jinsong.

Min Jinsong drew a deep breath, steadied his energy, darted left, then swung his right fist to the right.

He was trying to cut off Chu Tianfeng’s escape, forcing him into a head-on clash.

Chu Tianfeng feigned panic, raising both arms defensively and dodging in haste.

Bang! Min Jinsong’s right fist struck Chu Tianfeng’s arm.

Almost at the same time, Chu Tianfeng’s right fist smashed into Min Jinsong’s face, producing another dull thud.

Min Jinsong grunted, retreating rapidly.

Blood streamed down his face, but Chu Tianfeng didn’t seem much better—his right arm hung limply, mouth bleeding even more.

Min Jinsong figured Chu Tianfeng must be in bad shape too.

Time to go all out!

Suddenly, Min Jinsong leapt high, smashing his right fist at Chu Tianfeng, his right elbow bent slightly, ready to follow with another blow if the first succeeded.

Chu Tianfeng’s mind was tightly locked onto him—how could he not see through such paltry tricks?

To him, Min Jinsong’s movements were excruciatingly slow. If he wished, he had countless ways to break the attack.

But that was not Chu Tianfeng’s intention now. He wanted to bait the real catch—Min Jinsong was merely the bait, while the little apprentice from Thailand was the fish.

No fisherman would spoil his own bait, and neither would Chu Tianfeng.

So he only feigned injury, retreating with difficulty to one side to avoid Min Jinsong’s chain attack.

When Min Jinsong’s assault failed again, he roared in anger, landed, and launched a flurry of kicks at Chu Tianfeng.

Chu Tianfeng dodged Min Jinsong’s left leg, and as the right leg flew out, he pretended to be unable to retreat, swinging his right leg wildly—but by sheer “accident,” he struck Min Jinsong’s left leg.

Min Jinsong instantly lost his balance and staggered to the floor.

Chu Tianfeng moved in at once, unleashing a similar combo of punches straight at Min Jinsong’s head.

Returning the favor in kind!

In truth, Chu Tianfeng knew no real boxing; all he did was mimic what he’d just seen.

The first punch caught Min Jinsong off guard, landing hard on his forehead and making stars dance before his eyes.

Instinctively, Min Jinsong raised both arms to block the second punch at his head.

Chu Tianfeng’s right knee followed up immediately—a trick he’d learned from the Thai apprentice.

Bang!

His right knee drove hard into Min Jinsong’s abdomen!