CHAPTER 196: CHAPTER 193: THE FIGHT BEGINS! (FIRST UPDATE)

Chapter 193 [The Fight Begins!]

If Chen Nuo could make a bet that this premeditated car accident had nothing to do with Song Chengye, he would write his name backward. But considering that prepared pickup truck, the vehicle’s collision resistance, and the speed during travel... Song Chengye probably didn’t intend to kill Old Jiang. He was still in the car himself! Stage a car accident, let Old Jiang suffer even a minor injury... then today’s martial arts competition could be canceled! Yes, his goal was to stop this competition. That was my judgment. Motivationally speaking, Song Chengye had ample reason for this.

It was a fight for inheritance among the three sons of the Song Family’s second branch. The eldest, Song Zhicun, and the second, Song Gaoyuan, were the main contenders. Song Chengye, the youngest, was born when his elder brothers had already established themselves. In this battle for the family inheritance, Song Chengye was undoubtedly at a disadvantage. If the competition’s outcome was decided—and it was very likely Song Zhicun had a better chance of winning... If a victor emerged and the Song Family won, the eldest would become the heir! If the Song Family lost, the eldest would be disgraced, his reputation ruined. The beneficiary would only be the second brother, Song Gaoyuan! It definitely wouldn’t be Song Chengye’s turn. So, it seemed that regardless of whether the competition was won or lost, it wouldn’t benefit Song Chengye.

The only favorable situation for him was to cancel the competition. Let the eldest and second brothers continue their struggle, dragging things out! Song Chengye’s biggest disadvantage was his youth; he hadn’t managed the family business for long, and his foundation wasn’t deep. So, from his perspective, he most wanted this succession battle to drag on, not to reach a quick resolution! I felt my judgment was correct.

However, this Song Chengye was something else! To stage a car accident and distance himself, he actually put himself in the car! Risking his own safety! Quite ruthless.

The Song Family’s martial arts gym in Hong Kong was not as large as one might imagine. After all, Hong Kong has scarce land, and every inch is precious. In the early years, when the Song Family’s business hadn’t yet expanded, their old martial arts gym in Hong Kong naturally couldn’t be very large. It was an old, dilapidated building, surrounded by structures of a similar tone, with various signs haphazardly displayed on their facades. Two floors of this building housed the Song Family’s gym. When they parked in front, Song Chengye specifically mentioned that this was the first gym the Song Family had established in Hong Kong. Later, as the Song Family’s business grew, they opened dojos all the way in M Country. However, to preserve tradition, this somewhat run-down old gym was not only kept but also slightly expanded.

Now, it occupied two floors. Upon entering, the main hall was beautifully arranged, furnished entirely with antique-style pieces. There was an eight-paneled screen; Chen Nuo glanced at it and saw it was made of jade.

At the entrance, members of the Song Family were there to greet them, including Song Gaoyuan, the second son of the Song Family. If one didn’t know better, judging purely by appearance, they might think Song Gaoyuan was the martial arts pillar of his generation in the Song Family. He certainly looked like a martial artist: tall and burly, with broad shoulders and long arms. His suit strained over his muscular physique. He had a square face, thick eyebrows, and thin lips.

However, Song Gaoyuan’s background didn’t match his martial appearance. He was over forty, a graduate of the University of Hong Kong, and had later studied business management in M Country. Moreover, Chen Nuo knew that Song Gaoyuan hadn’t actually delved deeply into the Song Family’s martial arts; his robust physique was entirely due to his love for sports and fitness. His favorite sport was sailing. Practicing martial arts seemed to have never held much interest for Song Gaoyuan. Chen Nuo had obtained all this information through people sent by President Dong Tian.

Song Gaoyuan was very polite to Old Jiang. However, it was apparent that this courtesy was deliberately put on, as his eyes lacked any real warmth. Besides, his Mandarin wasn’t good; his few brief sentences could barely be understood as very formal greetings. Song Gaoyuan’s reception merely represented the Song Family’s stance, highlighting the importance they placed on the competition and the associated etiquette. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Song Gaoyuan quickly led the group into the martial arts hall.

The competition was going to take place on the second floor.

Song Chengye seemed to have completely put the car accident behind him. His expression was relaxed as he introduced these things to Old Jiang and his party. Then, he sighed softly, "This is the training hall. Normally, disciples from our school can spar here. We also sometimes host local martial arts exchange competitions here. Martial arts are on the decline. Nowadays, there aren’t many places in Hong Kong to host martial arts competitions. This old gym has decent facilities, so friends in the martial arts community are willing to let us host their events. But we can only handle smaller competitions. For larger competitions, we still have to rent a stadium from the Government."

Chen Nuo and his companions surveyed the training hall. It was a large hall, hundreds of square meters, with a ceiling much higher than ordinary buildings. The decor was very simple, even a bit old. In the center was a raised platform, similar to a boxing ring, but octagonal instead of square. Surrounding it were three sections of spectator stands, though they were small and looked like they could only seat about a hundred people, and it would be a tight squeeze. The lights above the platform were already on. Disciples in the Song Family’s martial arts school uniforms were cleaning and tidying the area, wiping down the platform floor. However, the spectator seats below the platform were already nearly full.

This made Chen Nuo frown slightly. "So many spectators?"

Song Gaoyuan glanced at Chen Nuo, then at Old Jiang. Seeing Old Jiang hadn’t spoken, he ignored Chen Nuo.

But Song Chengye chuckled. "Our Song Family still has some standing in Hong Kong’s martial arts community. And since such exchange matches are rare these days, our peers in the martial arts world will show their respect by attending to observe."

Chen Nuo looked at these "peers from the martial arts community" in the stands, an involuntary smirk playing on his lips. Many of them wore clothes embroidered with dragons and phoenixes. Near where Chen Nuo stood, a few individuals with conspicuous full-sleeve tattoos were seated.

Martial arts peers? More like triad peers!

However, such societies were a unique part of Hong Kong’s culture. Martial artists often had nebulous connections to these societies, a legacy of history. In my previous life, I saw a statistic: in Hong Kong, hundreds of thousands of people belonged to societies, large and small. The entire population of Hong Kong was only a few million. Looking at some people in the stands, judging by their appearance and attire, even a child wouldn’t believe they weren’t gangsters!

Afterward, the two Song brothers led Old Jiang and his party to meet some of the so-called "elders" from Hong Kong’s martial arts community who were present to observe the competition. At the very front of the training hall, rows of seats were arranged, occupied by people who were clearly putting on airs. Quite harmoniously, they were all dressed in Tang suits. The youngest among them looked to be in their late forties, while some had completely white hair. The Song brothers led Old Jiang and the others over, introducing them one by one.

Most of these individuals weren’t very fluent in Mandarin, but they carried themselves with considerable assertiveness. They all gave Old Jiang a fist-and-palm salute, their attitude not particularly warm, rather haughty, and even tinged with a hint of hostility.

In fact, from the moment Old Jiang and the others entered the training hall, a commotion had started in the spectator seats. They had likely recognized Old Jiang and his companions as the mainland experts who were to compete against the Song Family’s eldest son today. The xenophobia of Hong Kong residents and their disdain for the mainland were starkly evident. From the moment Old Jiang’s party entered, jeers erupted from the stands. Various taunts like "northern bumpkins" and other derogatory, even threatening, shouts like "drop dead" were incessant.

Old Jiang and Song Qiaoyun’s expressions were grim. However, I thought it was quite normal, Chen Nuo mused. The Song Family is a local Hong Kong martial arts school, and Old Jiang is an outsider. Naturally, the local audience supports the local. It’s just like a soccer match; local spectators naturally root for the home team. During matches at the Capital City Workers’ Stadium, don’t spectators also greet the visiting team with curses in the local dialect? So, the hostility from these leading figures in the Hong Kong martial arts community towards Old Jiang was also easy to understand.

Although language communication was somewhat challenging, Song Chengye was very proactive. His Mandarin was excellent, so he introduced everyone, acting as a translator. Old Jiang thus made the acquaintance of all the influential figures present today as witnesses to the match. There were practitioners of Choy Li Fut, Hung Gar, Wing Chun... Incidentally, at that time in Hong Kong, while quite a few people practiced Wing Chun, it wasn’t mainstream. Wing Chun’s popularity soared after the 2008 release of Donnie Yen’s movie *Ip Man*, which became a sensation within a few years. The success of that film series catapulted Ip Man—an individual not particularly prominent in martial arts history—directly to legendary status. Mr. Ip Man was indeed a martial artist, but he wasn’t truly a grandmaster. Bruce Lee did study under Ip Man, but Mr. Lee studied with many masters throughout his life, eventually synthesizing various arts to create his own style. Mr. Ip Man was just one of them. However, a movie is a movie. To find material, the director and creators unearthed the figure of Ip Man from old records, applied artistic license and exaggeration, and with the reach of the entertainment industry, transformed a relatively unknown martial artist into a "grandmaster of a generation"...

During the introductions, the Wing Chun practitioner was clearly not among the most prominent local figures; his status wasn’t particularly high.

Chen Nuo looked at this Wing Chun martial artist and sighed internally. Just wait, you’ll be in the spotlight in a few years. But looking at the old man’s white hair, I’m afraid by the time Ip Man becomes a big hit and Wing Chun is popular, he’ll already be too old. He won’t be able to catch that wave.

After they had met all the martial arts peers, the Song brothers invited Old Jiang and the others to sit in a designated area prepared below the platform. Domestic martial arts competitions, unlike boxing matches in Europe and America, didn’t traditionally have rest areas for fighters. The group sat at the southern edge of the platform, just a step away. Old Jiang sat on the far left, with Song Qiaoyun beside him, followed by Chen Nuo and Zhang Linsheng in order. The seats were ordinary master’s chairs, with a small table beside them holding tea.

However, Old Jiang wouldn’t drink anything at this moment. Though he was good-natured, he was still a man of the Jianghu, not a fool. With the match about to begin, how could he consume anything prepared by his opponents? Sitting there, ignoring the uproar and the local audience’s curses and threats from the stands behind him, Old Jiang slowly closed his eyes, focusing inward, unperturbed by the external disturbances.

Several minutes later, an uproar suddenly erupted in the stands, and Chen Nuo turned his head toward the entrance.

Song Zhicun had arrived!

Song Zhicun looked particularly sharp. His hair, which had been a bit long when they last met, had clearly been neatly trimmed shorter, making him look more capable and a bit younger. He wore a black silk short jacket with a front opening, wide-legged trousers, and thin-soled cloth shoes. Following him were several men, presumably his disciples. Among them was a brawny fellow Chen Nuo had seen before in Jinling, standing behind Song Zhicun during the Go match. He had a fierce appearance, with a face full of hard flesh.

Song Zhicun’s arrival was met with a wave of cheers from the stands, interspersed with shouts of "Kill the northerner!"

Song Zhicun didn’t speak. He walked to the edge of the platform, first nodding at Old Jiang. Then, his disciples went to part the ropes, and Song Zhicun vaulted onto the platform, walking to its center. Below the platform, Song Zhicun’s disciples quickly unfurled several banners they had brought.

The banners, embroidered with gold and silver thread, displayed striking slogans:

"Invincible in Hong Kong!"

"The Strongest in Hong Kong!"

Chen Nuo watched this and whispered to Zhang Linsheng with a chuckle, "It seems this Song Zhicun has made quite a name for himself in Hong Kong."

Zhang Linsheng was quite tense at the moment, sitting bolt upright. When Chen Nuo spoke to him, he just grunted in acknowledgment.

Chen Nuo smiled. "Don’t be nervous. Relax."

Song Zhicun stood on the platform, first basking in the cheers and applause from the audience. Then, he pressed his hands down a few times. Once the cheers and clamor gradually subsided, Song Zhicun finally began to speak slowly. He first spoke in Cantonese, offering thanks to the martial arts peers who had come today and to the audience for their support. Then, he delivered some grand, eloquent words in Mandarin about promoting martial arts. Each time he paused, applause and cheers would erupt from below the platform. His speech was interrupted several times. Finally, Song Zhicun switched to Mandarin and declared loudly,

"Today’s match is not to determine the superiority of martial arts, nor to settle personal scores. It is an exchange between the two branches of my Song Family regarding our inherited skills. It is not a matter of life or death, nor does it involve any grudges! Brother Jiang! After this match, we shall drink and celebrate together!"

His words were well-spoken. Old Jiang, seated below, had no choice but to stand and cup his fists in salute to Song Zhicun. Song Zhicun returned the gesture.

At this moment, Chen Nuo noticed that in some of the seats below with particularly good views, spectators had taken out cameras and started filming. Cameras, and notebooks for taking notes... Media?

Chen Nuo sighed internally.

This Song Zhicun is determined to make this competition grand, impressive, and lively! He not only wants to win, but to win with style and impact! This way, he’ll firmly add a footnote to the matter of the Song family patriarch choosing an heir!

Song Zhicun then slowly stepped back two paces. Below the platform, members of the Song Family came forward to invite Old Jiang up.

Old Jiang exhaled deeply and slowly stood up. Chen Nuo and Zhang Linsheng immediately jumped up, rushing to the edge of the platform to part the ropes. Old Jiang glanced at his two disciples, nodded slightly, and then vaulted onto the platform.

"Master! Go for it!" Chen Nuo pumped his fist towards Old Jiang.

Old Jiang glanced back at Chen Nuo and nodded. He then turned his gaze to his wife, Song Qiaoyun, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

After Old Jiang stepped onto the platform, the spectator seats erupted once more. Cheers for Song Zhicun and jeers for Old Jiang echoed incessantly, turning the already small training hall into a buzzing beehive, making one’s ears ring.

A referee also stepped onto the platform. He was one of the martial artists they had met earlier, a practitioner of fist techniques, wearing a white tunic.

"No eye-gouging, no groin kicks, no injuring with hidden weapons! Start when I say start, and you must stop when I say stop! If either combatant is knocked down three times, they lose! Or, if either combatant surrenders, the match ends! Do you both understand?"

The man’s Mandarin was passable. Old Jiang understood and nodded.

Song Zhicun cupped his fists towards Old Jiang, and Old Jiang returned the gesture.

After they separated by a few steps...

DANG!!

A bell rang, and the match began!