Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 129 - Fat Fist
Chapter 129 – Fat Fist
===================
Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
===================
‘Grand Master-level talent.’
Ju-seong stroked his chin, mulling it over. A phrase with a nice ring to it. Anyone would feel pleased to have their potential acknowledged.
But a question still lingered.
“Say I win the championship and denounce the Ten Thousand Ears Gang’s crimes. What happens then?”
Zhuge Hye shook her head with a grave expression.
“I can’t tell you the details since they’re classified, but your safety… which is threatened by the Ten Thousand Ears Gang and the Assassination Curtain… would be secured. At least in the north, those vermin will be completely swept away.”
That made sense.
If the Ten Thousand Ears Gang was exposed at the Martial Alliance, the heart of jianghu, with everyone’s eyes focused, and if the Alliance played along, the orthodox sects of the north would pour their resources into eradicating the Ten Thousand Ears Gang and its subsidiaries.
Ju-seong nodded slowly.
“Our interests do align on that point.”
In truth, Zhuge Hye herself didn’t fully understand her superiors’ intentions.
It could be a ploy to monopolize the north’s intelligence and black markets by purging the Ten Thousand Ears Gang and Assassination Curtain wholesale.
Until now, the Ten Thousand Ears Gang and their affiliated black merchants had operated beneath the surface.
From the Alliance’s perspective, it must have been grating to watch those who were neither orthodox nor unorthodox run amok.
‘This is probably an attempt to clean house. To spread the cause widely and get mid-to-small sects to join in, they’re using Young Hero Ju.’
Her guess was reasonable, but she couldn’t see the bigger picture.
In fact, the ‘Ten Thousand Ears Gang Subjugation’ was the starting point of an even grander plan arranged by the uppermost echelons of the Military Affairs Division and the Martial Alliance Leader’s Office.
A grand strategy the Martial Alliance Leader had ordered with gut-wrenching resolve.
The foundation for the Plan of Severing Intestines was being laid.
* * *
The day after Ju-seong caused a scene, Fat Fist’s Round of 16 match was scheduled.
“That fellow looks sickly but somehow kept advancing.”
Red Beggar muttered with arms crossed.
Ju-seong looked at Red Beggar with pitying eyes.
‘Now’s not the time for you to worry about others…’
He’d heard that Zhuge Xian would forfeit the next match, but only Ju-seong knew it. Since his sister had told him directly, it was reliable.
The problem was that Red Beggar’s next opponent had also forfeited early, sensing he was no match.
Apparently, some merchant guild had offered a high wage to hire him as a new escort bureau’s chief… having climbed sufficiently high, he’d decided to bow out rather than risk injury.
Naturally, Red Beggar’s next opponent would become the very bald monk Zhuge Xian was supposed to face.
‘Oh, my poor brother…’
While Ju-seong silently prayed, he watched Fat Fist and the Hwangbo family’s third son begin their bout.
“Hmm…?”
After observing their martial arts for a while, an odd light passed through Ju-seong’s eyes.
‘They’re similar?’
Fat Fist’s martial arts resembled the Hwangbo third son’s. The spectators might not have noticed, but there was a small commotion where the orthodox elites were seated.
‘Fat Fist, huh… Hmm.’
The oversized fists and wrists unique to Fat Fist.
The rest of his body was quite frail.
Narrow shoulders, flat chest, thin knees, and a long waist.
In other words, a body with poor durability.
Ju-seong shifted his gaze to examine the Hwangbo third son’s martial arts.
He’d already observed the Hwangbo collateral member, Hwangbo Ok’s, martial arts on the way here. Straightforward, simple striking lines with tremendous power behind each blow.
But the main lineage’s original form was different.
Simple as it seemed, a good number of strikes contained the subtlety of penetrating force.
There was a rumor that the Hwangbo family had once been an assassin clan serving the sixteen royal houses during the Sixteen Kingdoms era.
Of course, the family denied it. What prestigious orthodox house would want to be known as a former assassin family?
But jianghu enthusiasts agreed that the Hwangbo family’s fist techniques looked quite natural even when wielding a short dagger or throwing knife.
Ju-seong could see it more clearly now that he was witnessing it firsthand.
‘It would suit a throwing knife well. Of course, it’s been refined for bare-hand use.’
The straightforward, simple forms made it seem that way.
Assassination, after all, meant finishing with a single strike rather than exchanging blows.
Moreover, they trained hidden force or penetrating force into their martial arts.
This was useful for approaching someone unarmed to put them at ease, then delivering a lethal blow through armor or guards.
“Hmm…”
Ju-seong stroked his chin and continued his thoughts.
The Hwangbo family must have deliberately welcomed those with large frames and thick bones into their bloodline to reinvent themselves.
How could anyone look at those hulking Hwangbo warriors and call them descendants of assassins?
Their martial arts had also been reformed to emphasize their straightforward forms while downplaying the sinister aspects.
‘That’s where the difference lies.’
Two people using similar yet different martial arts.
The decisive difference was exactly that. The Hwangbo third son was a typical Hwangbo warrior.
Large head, barrel-like waist.
Thick knees and ankles for stable striking. And above all, the Hwangbo family’s signature thick wrists and massive fists.
He advanced with footwork, delivering honest punches.
-Kwang! Kwang! Tukwang!
Honest didn’t mean easy to block. The strikes were flawless in speed and power.
And between the honest blows, he’d slip in penetrating force that would wreck an opponent to the marrow if simply blocked.
But what about Fat Fist?
If he fought like the Hwangbo third son, his body wouldn’t hold up. So he’d adapted the Hwangbo martial arts to suit himself.
His forms traced curves. His footwork was light rather than forceful.
Like a pickpocket.
-Tung! Papapak! Teoeong!
He slipped punches through gaps and blind spots. Naturally laced with penetrating force.
‘Neither of them uses hidden force.’
In a way, that was obvious. The hidden force Ju-seong had been hit with was actually ill-suited for sparring.
The difference between hidden force and penetrating force was how covert it was.
Hidden force was the technique of ‘leaving’ one’s internal energy inside the opponent’s body.
Obviously much harder, and the energy expenditure was enormous. The woman who ambushed Ju-seong, Hwangbo Yeong, had probably poured out everything except enough internal energy to escape with lightness technique.
Penetrating force, on the other hand, was simply a method of driving the power of a strike deeper.
It didn’t burrow and gnaw at the body like hidden force.
Fat Fist’s light fist technique. The Hwangbo family’s heavy fist technique.
Which was superior? Obviously the latter. Fat Fist’s martial art was self-taught; the Hwangbo third son’s was the perfected original, refined over ages.
“But martial art completeness doesn’t decide everything.”
Ju-seong muttered, chin in hand.
“Elder Brother, are you sick? Why do you keep talking to yourself?”
Ju-seong batted away Red Beggar’s hand trying to feel his forehead and said irritably.
“Just watch the match. It looks like the winner’s about to be decided.”
Red Beggar glanced at the arena and replied.
“Even though they use similar martial arts, it’s strange… Isn’t the winner already obvious?”
As he said, the flow was slowly shifting to Fat Fist’s favor.
Both used the same martial art. But Fat Fist’s version was modified, while the Hwangbo third son’s was the original.
Fat Fist could predict his opponent’s moves, but the reverse wasn’t true.
A matchup tilted from the start.
-Tutuk!
Light footwork let Fat Fist evade the strikes, and his massive fist lightly tapped his opponent’s extended elbow…
-Tung!
Then struck hard at the exposed ribs.
“Keohk!”
The Hwangbo third son doubled over and retched yellowish bile. Fat Fist had moderated his force to avoid internal injury.
“The winner is Fat Fist!”
As the referee announced, participants usually left via the exit below the Blue Stage.
But Fat Fist didn’t descend… instead, he raised a cupped fist toward the audience and called out.
“Greetings to my fellow travelers of jianghu! This humble one’s name is Hwangbo Chi-seung!”
At the sudden revelation, the crowd murmured. Ju-seong and Red Beggar exchanged bewildered looks.
“I was born to a high-ranking member of the Hwangbo family and a nameless courtesan. Because I took too strongly after my mother, my father never brought me into the family.”
Prestigious martial families usually married women with outstanding bone structure and spiritual sensitivity.
Especially brides whose builds suited the family martial arts.
The Zhuge family preferred calm temperaments, keen minds, and narrow ankles for quick directional pivots.
The Peng family preferred long arms, sturdy elbows, and straight, well-extended frames for saber techniques.
But personal taste didn’t always match.
Family demands were one thing; individual preference was another.
Particularly for Hwangbo men, the gap was severe.
They tended to prefer delicate, softly curved women over large-framed, barrel-waisted ones.
Thus, the Hwangbo family had many illegitimate children.
Fat Fist… Hwangbo Chi-seung… was an unusual case: a bastard who had still received the main lineage’s martial arts.
‘Probably a hidden elder who smuggled the martial arts to his mistress.’
Just then, the Martial Alliance Leader’s deep voice echoed.
“The match is over. Leave the stage.”
Rules were rules. Hwangbo Chi-seung gave a deep bow and descended from the Blue Stage.
In the area where the Hwangbo elders sat, an odd current was flowing.
* * *
Changchun Inn.
Ju-seong spread a peculiar-smelling salve on his left shoulder and spoke.
“So, Fat Fist… or rather, Young Hero Hwangbo Chi-seung. Why did you do that?”
“…”
“The Hwangbo family will certainly find you troublesome… maybe even try to eliminate you.”
Fat Fist smiled wistfully and replied.
“Then so be it. I simply wanted acknowledgment from my roots.”
Ju-seong silently watched Fat Fist… Hwangbo Chi-seung… deep in thought.
‘Actually, I doubt the Hwangbo family will come down that harshly.’
After all, the Ascending Dragon Assembly was an event all of jianghu was watching. From the Hwangbo family’s standpoint, Fat Fist was burdensome but had to be embraced.
“You don’t know who your birth father is?”
Fat Fist shook his head.
“Judging by the fact that he leaked direct-lineage martial arts, he must be someone high up, but I don’t know his exact identity.”
“Hmm…”
The only evidence of Hwangbo blood was his thick fists and wrists, and his martial art, which was rather flimsy proof.
At this level, the Hwangbo family could choose to deny and discard him.
But the problem was the Ascending Dragon Assembly. Spectators and gossips were already spreading stories.
‘A clever and simple stroke hitting them where it hurts.’
This man would likely be accepted into the Hwangbo family soon. Probably adopted by one of the direct-lineage members.
Of course, afterward he’d face plenty of turf wars and discrimination, but just getting into the family was a major success.
The Ascending Dragon Assembly’s name fit perfectly.
Weren’t the serpents coiled in ponds across the Central Plains now writhing upward, transforming into dragons?
Ju-seong stared at Fat Fist. Come to think of it, the man’s face seemed oddly familiar.
‘Why does he look more familiar the more I look?’
He’d definitely seen him somewhere, but he couldn’t quite recall.
A face so plain it was easy to forget. Fat Fist himself, aside from his peculiar physique, had a weasel-like, somewhat weaselly but forgettable face.
Suddenly, an old man he’d met years ago flashed through Ju-seong’s mind.
The old man who’d been caught by his master, the Divine Physician, and who’d scuffled with him. The one who’d taught Ju-seong Celestial Hearing before vanishing like the wind…
Ju-seong’s eyes narrowed sharply as he scrutinized Fat Fist from head to toe.