Chapter 25

Zhao Jin's first-round opponent was very weak, about his own height but with no real fighting skill, just charging forward yelling and swinging his fists. Zhao Jin sidestepped and kicked him straight to the ground.

In the second round they drew lots again, and this time Zhao Jin's opponent was a familiar face — the short kid from Liu Yong's gang. The short kid had been quite pleased with himself for making it to the second round, never expecting to end up facing Zhao Jin.

"I give up..." The short kid thought it over, then conceded with his head hanging.

The round of sixteen was simple too. His opponent was a bit stouter than Zhao Jin, but when they closed in, Zhao Jin landed a punch right on the bridge of his nose. Tears and snot streaming, the boy covered his face and said he gave up.

The other strong fighters had no more trouble than Zhao Jin. Chen Sheng was fast and precise today, basically ending his bouts in a single move — his opponents either gave up from the pain or collapsed on the ground unable to rise. Shi Manqiang and Ji Xiang didn't fight as cleanly as he did, but they still finished their matches in two or three moves.

Sun Dalei fought the ugliest. Whoever faced him could gain the upper hand, landing punches and kicks on him at will — he was fat and slow, at a real disadvantage. But once the distance closed, Sun Dalei had a chance. One hit from Sun Dalei, and the match was often decided.

By the fourth round it was already the quarterfinals: Zhao Jin, Chen Sheng, Shi Manqiang, Sun Dalei, Ji Xiang, Liu Yong, and two other youths. Those two hadn't even made the top eight yesterday, which surprised Zhao Jin — he'd assumed the quarterfinal lineup wouldn't change much.

The youths of the goods yard gathered in a wide circle with the fighting ground at its center. Only eight wooden lots remained in the clay jar. Chen Hong strained to lift the jar, shook it, then set it on the ground for everyone to reach in and draw.

The watching youths wore all kinds of expressions. Some who'd just lost looked utterly dejected, glaring at the pastries on the earthen platform and grinding their teeth. Yet every face held excitement and anticipation — these eight had fought their way up round by round, and watching the strong take on the strong was a fine spectacle. Everyone shared one other hope: who would prove the strongest today?

As luck would have it, this time Zhao Jin drew Liu Yong, and Chen Sheng drew Shi Manqiang — both pairs were old rivals.

Although his uncle Zhao Zhenxing had told him yesterday to stay until the end before going back, Zhao Jin still wanted to return early and practice his martial arts. He hadn't organized the goods yard tournament for the sake of fighting, nor to find sparring partners for Chen Sheng — he wanted to make more friends and rally people around him.

That was how he thought, but Zhao Jin wouldn't flee before battle. Chen Sheng, however, couldn't wait — he demanded to fight Shi Manqiang first.

The two faced off. Shi Manqiang lunged at him full of confidence, and Chen Sheng met him head-on. By yesterday's pattern, once they grappled, Shi Manqiang could use his strength to win. But today things had changed. Just as they were about to lock in a contest of force, Chen Sheng sidestepped, hooked his left arm around Shi Manqiang's right, and drove his right fist toward Shi Manqiang — the punch landing just below the ear.

Shi Manqiang had meant to tough it out and take the hit, but the blow left him instantly dizzy and weak-limbed, and he collapsed straight to the ground.

Silence fell over the whole crowd. They'd expected an exciting fight, but Chen Sheng had won with a single punch. The watching youths all sucked in a breath of cold air — then remembered that back when Chen Sheng used to roam the goods yard with a short staff challenging people to fights, he had never lost, except that one time to Zhao Jin.

Chen Sheng shook out his arm, his face showing not a trace of joy at the victory. He turned to look at the remaining six, his expression unusually grim, as if sizing up who his next opponent would be.

It had all happened so fast that no one had time to react — only Chen Hong clapped and cheered with all his might. Zhao Jin noted Chen Sheng's expression and bearing, and wondered: after failing to take first place yesterday, just how much pressure had the Chen family elders put on Chen Sheng?

The second match was Zhao Jin against Liu Yong. Liu Yong wore a smug grin, with an air of "you've finally fallen into my hands, you little brat."

"You used tricks to hit me that day — today I'm getting payback, so everyone can see who's really stronger!" The youths usually started fighting right away, but Liu Yong swaggered and wasted a few words.

Liu Yong had watched Zhao Jin's bout with Ji Xiang yesterday and concluded that Zhao Jin had neither great strength nor great speed — as long as he stayed careful, he wouldn't lose.

Zhao Jin shook his head. He couldn't be bothered with nonsense. At the side, Chen Hong had already shouted "Begin!" The shout had barely faded when Liu Yong charged — this time he didn't rush in swinging wildly. He kept his speed moderate, his upper body tensed, but Zhao Jin didn't move.

The onlookers outside were stunned. Was Zhao Jin not going to fight?

If Zhao Jin wouldn't move, Liu Yong wasn't about to miss the chance — he threw a punch straight at Zhao Jin's head.

The punch came; Zhao Jin swept it aside with his hand. Liu Yong threw a second punch; Zhao Jin pushed it away. Liu Yong lifted his leg to kick, but Zhao Jin had already stepped aside and evaded it.

When boys and children fight, it's punch for punch, kick for kick, all brute force — there's some instinctive dodging, but deliberate parrying like Zhao Jin's was exceedingly rare. After two punches and a kick were all blocked, Liu Yong's momentum deflated, and he stood there momentarily dazed.

Zhao Jin was about to swing a punch, but changed his mind just before landing it. He stepped in, wrapped Liu Yong up, and threw him to the ground.

The youths at the side watched dumbstruck. Liu Yong, lying flat on the ground, was thoroughly disheartened and couldn't be bothered to get up. He just lay there panting heavily, thinking he might as well not come tomorrow — there was no turning things around here anyway.

As Liu Yong's thoughts wandered, he felt a tug at the front of his clothes. He came to his senses and looked — Zhao Jin had grabbed him by the collar and hauled his upper body right off the ground.

"I'm heading back to practice. My share of the pastries is yours. Fight well — if your ranking's too poor, I'll have wasted them!" Zhao Jin grinned and patted Liu Yong on the shoulder, then got up, called out to Mu Shulan, and the two of them ran off.

Even then, Liu Yong still hadn't processed what happened. He just sat there in a daze. Chen Sheng, off to the side, was not pleased. He shouted, "Zhao Jin, why are you leaving so early? I'm still waiting to fight you!"

Watching Zhao Jin block Liu Yong's punches and kick just now, Chen Sheng's eyes had lit up. There were plenty of youths in the goods yard, and quite a few who could fight, but only Zhao Jin truly understood martial skill. Chen Sheng always felt that only fighting Zhao Jin counted as meeting a worthy match.

But to his dismay, Zhao Jin had left halfway through yesterday, and today he was doing it again. Chen Sheng was thoroughly disappointed.

"Martial training comes first. We'll fight when we're matched up." Zhao Jin shouted without looking back.

The crowd parted to make way for him. The children and youths of the goods yard all instinctively felt a sense of awe toward Zhao Jin. This entire tournament had been arranged by Zhao Jin alone — everyone competed for rankings according to the rules he set. This Zhao Jin, once timid and scrawny, had now grown strong, undefeated in these past days of fighting. And those lavish prizes, all those delicious pastries — he never cared about them, always generously giving them away to others.

All these things combined made the children feel that Zhao Jin was different. Ever since that near-fatal illness, Zhao Jin's speech and manner had indeed been far more mature than others his age, which only deepened the youths' awe of him.

Just as they ran out of the goods yard, his uncle Zhao Zhenxing emerged from the street corner. The Chen family steward, Chen Jincai, could also be seen peering from the other side. Zhao Zhenxing's face was puzzled as he asked, "Jin, didn't I tell you that you could finish the tournament before going to practice? Why did you leave halfway through?"

Zhao Jin hesitated a moment, then looked up and answered with a smile, "Second Uncle, I set up this tournament to make friends, not to win first place in the fighting."

Zhao Zhenxing was taken aback. He hadn't expected such an answer from Zhao Jin — that kind of thinking belonged to an adult, and a deeply calculating adult at that. How could his own nephew have thought of it? By now, Mu Shulan had tactfully stepped aside, not disturbing the uncle and nephew.

"Actually, fighting matches every day would be very good for your martial training. Practicing hard at my place day after day — that's just working in isolation." Zhao Zhenxing tried to persuade him again.

Zhao Jin paused, then smiled and said quietly, "Second Uncle, I'm not confident I can take first place right now, so I won't fight to the very end."