Chapter 17: Are You Kidding Me? Again Stronger Than Me?

In that extremely distant past, roughly eighteen hundred years ago, there existed on the earth a powerful kingdom.

That kingdom, known as the Han dynasty, saw at the White Horse Temple in Luoyang—the future birthplace of the Beidouquan —Buddhists and heroes from across the land gather to ponder what the next generation of “world heroes and sage emperors” should be, and how to protect them.

Finally, under the protection of the ruling powers and with support from all major sects, blending Buddhist esoteric methods with the distant western art of acupoint striking, a hero who could grasp the stars and fate itself, secretly guarding the age, rose as the “Shield of the World’s Heroes and Champions” upon the dark side of history.

It evolved and perfected itself

through the progress of the age,

through the baptism of real combat,

continuously,

under all circumstances,

against any situation,

against any enemy,

capable of crushing them all—the ultimate fist,

was born in that ancient kingdom.

It was the one-to-one transmitted assassination fist—“Beidou Shenquan”!

Its birth was itself an epic, buried deep within history.

Though called an assassination fist, its true intent was to end war through killing, to protect all people of the world; yet because its methods of killing were too cruel and barbaric, it became feared by all.

So… how was it achieved?

—【Mikong】!!

Seven hundred and eight acupoints, where meridians and qi-blood intersect, each with unique effects, can accomplish, when applied in medicine, many things modern technology still cannot achieve.

Then… what if applied to killing?

Traditional Chinese medicine holds that the human body contains roughly fifty-two single points, three hundred paired points, and fifty extraordinary points outside the meridians—seven hundred and twenty acupoints total. One hundred and eight are vital points; seventy-two, when struck, are not fatal, while the remaining thirty-six are lethal—commonly called death points… Though the number differs, this aligns with Beidou’s understanding.

Many ancient martial arts share similar concepts: in combat, striking an opponent’s “Mikong”—acupoints and vital spots—can kill silently or revive from near death; thus, this technique is also called “Huosa.”

The predecessors of Beidou did not consider “Huosa.” They pursued only the most brutally simple and efficient killing.

Among the seven hundred and eight Mikong they discovered, only a few were truly lethal; even aiming precisely and striking with force could not guarantee death.

And this all assumed “force,” and required targeting a lethal point—wasn’t such elaborate effort to kill one man backwards? Was it truly useful in real combat?

—【Douqi】

The emergence of this unscientific force revived the art of acupoint striking.

Imagine—if douqi replaced the fingers, channeling this strange energy into the Mikong, what would happen?

Blocked qi-blood would accumulate like floodwaters behind a dam, rising higher and higher, yet never released… until…

—Boom!!

The human body would explode like an overinflated balloon, shattering into irrecoverable fragments.

At that moment, the distinction between lethal and non-lethal Mikong vanished; any one of the seven hundred and eight Mikong, if injected with even a trace more douqi, could effortlessly bring death.

The fusion of douqi and Mikong produced a terrifying chemical reaction.

…………

“Now, mark your brother’s Mikong on his body.”

So that’s how it works!

Each person’s physique, build, muscles, and bones differ slightly, so Mikong positions vary; their first task is to find them—starting with their fellow disciples, whom they live and eat with daily.

Only by stripping naked could they see the Mikong positions more clearly and accurately.

Longquan handed two brushes dipped in red ink to Rao and Tuqi, Jia Qi and Ken Shi Lang, instructing them to circle each other’s most critical Mikong.

How did Jia Ji and the others determine them?

Texts like “Complete Manual of Human Meridians and Acupoints,” “Nan Jing,” and “Binhu Xue Mai” had long been required by Longquan to be memorized backward and forward.

One on the neck, three on the chest, five along the cross from abdomen to dantian, one on each side of the ribs, one on each shoulder, one on each arm… soon, the bare upper bodies were covered in red circles three centimeters in diameter.

Once proficient, the circles would shrink, becoming smaller and more precise, until they fit exactly one fingertip.

“Next, Rao and Tuqi one pair, Jia Ji and Ken Shi Lang another—the first to strike the opponent’s Mikong wins.”

Of course, during sparring and acupoint striking, douqi is absolutely forbidden; otherwise, one instant would kill a brother.

This stage is most dangerous, so Longquan must remain ever-present, ready to intervene at once if accident occurs.

Now is truly the best moment to train Mikong recognition; if they grow stronger still, even Longquan might not react in time.

Beidou’s rule: Prohibit use of acupoint techniques on others before becoming the sole heir of Beidou Shenquan.

Longquan wanted them to become intimately familiar with the sensation of touching another’s vital points—before ever using this fist to kill.

Feel the skin, penetrate the muscle, the opponent’s body heat and the pulsing of flesh transmitted through nerves to the brain; then, with a mere whisper of douqi, shatter the final barrier—and life is extinguished.

This barrier is both technical and psychological.

“Hah.”

Jia Qi glanced at Longquan—if any among them harbored ill intent and secretly used douqi, a fratricidal massacre would erupt immediately.

But… wasn’t it only “me” who would do such a thing, the villain among them?

Then never mind—bring it on!

————————————

Night.

Jia Ji lay on his bed, bruised and swollen, powerless as a boneless slime.

As fellow disciples in competition, each struck without mercy.

Yet because all guarded their own Mikong, no one targeted the red circles; instead, they focused solely on punching their brothers—officially sparring, practically giving these lively adolescent boys an outlet for their pent-up energy.

The fighting carried the air of settling personal scores.

As before, he could barely overpower Ken Shi Lang, the youngest, but could hardly touch Tuqi, and Rao needed only one punch to defeat him.

This inhuman brawling began one-on-one, then two-on-one, then three-on-one, continuing until all lay exhausted and unable to stand.

Even the eldest of Beidou, Rao, suffered greatly under three-on-one.

In the end, Longquan knocked them all down at once.

The Master who dragged them back to their rooms left only one quiet remark: “Continue tomorrow.”

In such intense combat, reaction speed and fist skill grow rapidly; the tension and adrenaline of battle activate douqi, increasing its volume.

After all,

douqi is battle-qi.

It is most active only in combat.

Jia Ji winced in pain on his bed, yet felt a premonition—he was about to break through to a new realm!

Thus, the brothers’ brawling continued until the tenth day.

But not because this stage of training ended…

His bruises had not faded; his chest and arms were again wrapped in bandages. Suddenly, Jia Ji sat up from bed, his face alight with uncontrollable excitement and anticipation.

The hundredth day had arrived!

【“Ice Queen” has joined the group chat】

Seeing that name, Jia Qi’s expression changed instantly—yesterday he had finally matched the group’s average, upgrading his profile rating to “Strong,” feeling confident.

Yet now, only one thought filled his mind:

“Are you kidding me?! Again stronger than me?!”

(End of Chapter)