Chapter 302
“Is that all you’ve got?” Xu Ke looked at the opponent’s astonished expression and spoke coldly. Originally, it was a sentence without any emotion, but with Xu Ke’s slight smirk on one side of his mouth, the sentence turned into one full of sarcasm. The man’s face turned red instantly, as if he had suffered a great humiliation.
“Don’t get too arrogant!” the man shouted loudly, trying to wrench his arm from Xu Ke’s grip to attack again. But just as he gritted his teeth and pulled, he found that Xu Ke’s hand clasped his like iron pincers. Unable to advance or retrieve his hand from Xu Ke’s grip, the atmosphere became awkward.
“Can’t pull it back?” Xu Ke held the hand that was still trying to pull away, ignoring the opponent’s struggle with a calm demeanor, and asked.
“You’re courting death!” the man tried to save face with a loud rebuke. Unable to retrieve one hand, he simply used the other to attack Xu Ke. This time, he decided not to spare Xu Ke’s face; instead, he wanted to use all his strength to pummel it flat and teach him the consequences of angering him.
Xu Ke did not retort to the man’s words but instead delivered a fierce slap with his actions to the boast the man had just made.
Xu Ke didn’t bother with the incoming punch; instead, he assumed a horse-riding stance, pulling back the hand gripping the man’s wrist while the other hand transformed into a fist like an iron bar, striking fiercely at the opponent’s abdomen.
The man didn’t expect Xu Ke to suddenly change tactics; his swinging punch was too late to react to Xu Ke’s strike to his abdomen, which felt like being hit by a strong man wielding an iron hammer. Instantly, it hurt as if being churned by a knife, causing the man to cry out in pain. A masculine baritone forcibly hit three high pitches due to the pain, so loud that it drowned out the street performer singing with a microphone on the other side of the square, drawing quite a bit of attention.
“Want to go again?” Xu Ke asked calmly and slowly, with the restraint and elegance of a noble heir.
The onlookers, who were previously enjoying the artist’s singing with closed eyes, couldn’t contain their curiosity, left their spots, and gathered by Lin Mengyao’s side, watching Xu Ke and the man with dreadlocks.
Realizing he was being watched, the man’s face flushed red again, unable to utter words of concession to leave. He, a proud white man, couldn’t possibly admit defeat to an Asian—never! It was something he couldn’t permit.
The man gritted his teeth and struggled to get up from the ground. His originally pale skin was now dotted with sweat from the earlier pain, and after rolling on the ground inelegantly, his face was streaked with dust, looking laughably disheveled compared to the gentle, scholarly demeanor of Xu Ke opposite him.
“I’m going to kill you!” the man shouted, taking a deep breath and charging at Xu Ke. He first assumed a punching posture but then remembered how he was struck before, retracting his attack halfway and instead sweeping towards Xu Ke with his muscular leg.
His leg raised high, aiming at Xu Ke’s face—that face he once admired, now the one he loathed the most.
The man’s assault was fierce, but Xu Ke remained harmless in appearance. His height and build didn’t seem capable of withstanding such a kick, causing the onlookers to cover their mouths in tension, although gasps of surprise escaped from between their fingers, startling Lin Mengyao, whose full attention was on Xu Ke.
Though shocked, people kept their eyes wide open, with no one willing to cover their eyes from the unfolding scene.
Just as they thought Xu Ke would be felled by the kick, his leg was intercepted by Xu Ke again. This time, his moves were not as laid-back as before; instead, they were as swift and powerful as a storm at sea.
Xu Ke deflected the leg aimed at himself and unexpectedly closed in on the man before his next kick could land. His fingers mimicked a bird’s beak, striking the man’s chest and shoulder blades with such force that the man staggered back a step.
At that moment, Xu Ke became like a vine wrapping around a tree, tenaciously entwining the opponent. No matter how the man dodged or escaped, Xu Ke was right on his heels, his hands alternating between palms, fists, crane’s beak, and Mantis form, striking various parts of the man’s body unfailingly. The relentless changes left no room for escape, while the man’s attacks were either evaded effortlessly by Xu Ke or countered with even greater force.
In just a minute, the man’s expression showed pain, yet he couldn’t utter a word of protest due to Xu Ke, forced to bear it passively until Xu Ke ceased his attack.
As soon as Xu Ke stopped, the previously upright man fell to his knees, clutching the places Xu Ke had struck, coughing painfully with each spasm, sweat quickly beading on his forehead, and his lips beneath the beard turned pale.
“Remember my words: don’t let me see you again. This was just a minor lesson. Next time, you may not be so lucky.” Xu Ke patted his palms, looking at the kneeling man coldly without any expression.
The crowd, stupefied till then, finally reacted and started applauding Xu Ke, even whistling. The woman beside Lin Mengyao looked at Xu Ke with excitement and enthusiasm, using her halting Huaxia Language to ask, “Is this Chinese Kung Fu?”
Lin Mengyao gave the woman a surprised glance, seeing curiosity glimmering in her emerald eyes under the sun. Lin Mengyao nodded and, before the woman could ask more, sprinted towards Xu Ke like a reintegrated swallow, leaping into Xu Ke’s arms and being caught in mid-air.