Chapter 950: Fake Boxing

He Yuzhu's strike was frighteningly fast; with a snap of his five fingers, he gripped Li Xiaohua's ankle directly.

Li Xiaohua only felt as if his ankle had been clamped tightly by iron pliers, a sour, numbing sensation instantly surging through his entire body; his whole person felt as if he had been acupoint-struck, and even the strength to resist drained away completely.

He Yuzhu did not hold on for long and soon loosened his grip to let him go.

After being released, half of Li Xiaohua's body was still numb; he stood on the ground and swayed twice, like someone who had drunk half a jin of strong liquor, stumbling as he nearly toppled over.

He simply pulled a nearby chair over to sit down, caught his breath, and then smiled bitterly as he cupped his hands toward He Yuzhu:

"Old He, I understand now; compared to you, I'm just a child fighting an adult. It was my own overestimation of my abilities."

He Yuzhu smiled and did not reply.

Director Li, sitting to the side, stared with wide eyes—he had heard many rumors about He Yuzhu before, but had always been half-skeptical. Seeing He Yuzhu's skill with his own eyes today, he was finally completely convinced, and he quickly spoke up: "Factory Director He, then I must trouble you to come with us."

"Fine, then I won't disturb you any further. Sleep well." After He Yuzhu finished speaking, he followed Bureau Chief Zhang and Li Xiaohua out the door.

This professional boxing match was being held in Virginia, and their group rode in a car arranged by He Yuzhu, heading straight for the venue.

Upon arriving at the scene, Jeffrey, the Deputy Trade Representative of M Country, was already waiting at the entrance with several people.

It must be said, the boxing arena was packed to the brim, with a deafening roar of voices.

He Yuzhu scanned the area and noticed that, not far from their seats, two familiar faces were actually sitting there—Tyson and Holyfield.

He Yuzhu accompanied the three leaders to take their seats in the front row.

Director Li and Jeffrey sat next to each other, with two interpreters sitting in the back row to help translate for both sides.

On the stage, the host shouted the names of the two finalists at the top of his lungs, and the audience erupted, cheers and shouts rising one after another.

A group of girls in short skirts danced energetically to the beat, the atmosphere heated and lively.

Half an hour later, the match officially began.

The finalists were the young boxer Jimmy Carter and the veteran Butch Williams.

As the bell rang, the first round began.

Jimmy Carter pressed forward step by step, his fists raining down like raindrops, while Butch Williams held his ground, fighting while retreating.

The first round ended not long after.

Jeffrey, the Deputy Trade Representative of M Country, turned his head, his tone carrying a hint of superiority as he spoke: "Mr. Li, if we were to have our country's professional boxer compete against your country's Kung Fu champion, who do you think would be stronger?"

Director Li was neither humble nor pushy, his tone calm: "Comparing boxing and Kung Fu to see which is stronger is actually impossible. The rules are different, so the paths are different. Your professional boxing limits the use of fists, and the striking areas are clearly defined; all training and judging systems revolve around this set of standards. Within these rules, your boxers are naturally adept at winning. But our Chinese Kung Fu was, in ancient times, a genuine killing art; it is only as the era developed and peace became the mainstream that Kung Fu gradually shifted toward the attributes of a competition."

Jeffrey shook his head, smiling with a touch of disapproval: "Mr. Li, talking to you is truly exhausting."

Director Li was not annoyed and continued: "If we are talking about being profound and extensive, then our Kung Fu is certainly superior."

Jeffrey laughed: "Mr. Li, you are certainly not modest at all. If your Kung Fu is really that powerful, why has it never been included as an Olympic event?"

Director Li replied: "Being included in the Olympics is only a matter of time. We have that much confidence."

"That will probably take a long time!" Jeffrey said with a hidden meaning.

"I believe the Olympics will not exclude Kung Fu forever. We have a population of over a billion; anyone with a bit of foresight would not keep this massive market out forever."

"Let us hope so." Jeffrey smiled, then changed the subject, "However, if you want to participate in combat events, you still have to play by our rules."

Director Li nodded: "What you say is a fact, but things will change sooner or later. Whether it is competition or trade, our two countries do indeed have many differences. But if we want to get along for a long time, we must first acknowledge the differences in each other's rules and systems, and then sit down to negotiate a set of common standards that both sides can accept. Using one's own standards unilaterally to negate the other's entire system is not the way to get along."

Jeffrey said: "Mr. Li is indeed eloquent. But many of our rules were established after decades to centuries of exploration; they cannot be changed just because you join. Sports and trade are the same—unless you are powerful enough... for now, if you want to play, you have to follow our rules."

Deputy Director Shi, standing to the side, saw the two becoming increasingly deadlocked and quickly tried to smooth things over: "Actually, we aren't trying to change your rules, we just hope to at least be given some time to adapt."

Jeffrey's tone turned provocative: "This world is about strength. To gain respect, you must show what you can do. Just like on this boxing ring, you can only win by knocking your opponent down. How about this—I see your Bodyguard has a sharp gaze; he must have practiced Kung Fu, right? How about letting him have a match with our boxer?"

Director Li shook his head in refusal: "I'm sorry, our security personnel are not here to compete in matches; it is inappropriate to have them spar with athletes."

Jeffrey laughed again: "Then letting your Bodyguard spar with my Bodyguard, that should be fine, right?"

Director Li still shook his head: "It wouldn't be good if anyone got hurt; let's just continue watching the match."

Jeffrey was relentless: "Mr. Li, since this is an exchange, don't be so rigid." He turned and beckoned to the Bodyguard behind him, "Mike, haven't you always liked Bruce Lee's movies? Mr. Li's Bodyguard is a Kung Fu master; dare you spar with him? Just treat it as a little side show for this match. If you are willing, I will speak to the person in charge here."

Mike gestured toward He Yuzhu with several of Bruce Lee's signature moves in a very insolent manner, his mouth making "Wata..." sounds incessantly.

He Yuzhu smiled and did not respond.

He also did not expect that Jeffrey could be so flippant in his actions.

Seeing that He Yuzhu did not agree, Mike became even more energized, continuing to perform a series of exaggerated and ridiculous movements in front of him.

He Yuzhu turned his head to look at Director Li, using his eyes to seek consent.

Director Li returned a questioning look, and He Yuzhu nodded.

Director Li said: "Since it is to add a side show to the match, I agree."

Seeing that the other side had loosened up, Jeffrey immediately called over a staff member and invited the organizer of the venue over.

A bearded man arrived quickly and was very polite to Jeffrey.

The two spoke in low voices for a few moments, and the bearded man nodded, agreeing to the matter.

He Yuzhu's heart, however, sank slightly—he suddenly felt that this seemingly hasty decision might have been arranged by them long ago.

Otherwise, who would dare to add such a "show" on the fly during a nationally televised major competition?

He Yuzhu shook his head inwardly; these M Country people were worthy of having learned from the British, their ability to set traps was identical. However, today He Yuzhu was prepared to let them be hoisted by their own petard.

He Yuzhu thought again, perhaps ever since those protesters were teased, the other side had started investigating the security personnel in the delegation.

Perhaps, the M Country people were even eight-tenths sure they were guessing who He Yuzhu was, what his background was, and whether he was Shadow.

He Yuzhu opened his mouth to ask: "Mr. Jeffrey, your Bodyguard wants to spar, so what rules shall we follow?"

Jeffrey was not polite at all and said straightforwardly: "Let's just do boxing; otherwise it will be inconsistent with today's match."

He Yuzhu smiled, unconcerned: "I have no objections."

Director Li quickly added: "Mr. Jeffrey, I still hope that both sides will focus on entertainment and stop when it's appropriate."

He Yuzhu smiled and followed up: "I understand that, it's just an exhibition match."

Jeffrey also nodded in agreement: "Yes, yes, yes, it's just a fake fight. In your words—making friends through martial arts."

He Yuzhu took a look at Mike. From the look in the other man's eyes, he could see it clearly—this guy had no intention of pulling his punches.