A-Lai surveyed his surroundings.
He thrust the knife forcefully into a door.
"Bang!"
Pointing at the knife trembling and shaking in the wooden door, he said, "Sharp, isn't it?"
Hu San, a battle-hardened veteran, had seen it all and was curious about what A-Lai intended to do. Did he have the guts to stab himself? With a sinister tone, he said, "Not bad! It's sharp enough, and your mouth is sharper than that knife."
A-Lai pulled out the knife and pointed the tip at his own chest.
Hu San sneered coldly, "You, you, what do you think you're doing?"
The audience gasped in horror, speculating that the boy must be mad or suicidal, knowing he couldn't win the fight.
A young nurse screamed, "Don't—!"
Before she could finish, A-Lai gripped the knife handle with both hands, exerted force, and with a loud shout, "Hah!" he plunged the knife into his chest. The entire blade sank in, leaving only the handle visible. His hand rested on his chest, his brow furrowed.
"Unbelievable! Someone's going to die!" someone in the audience shouted in panic.
The young nurse rushed over. "A-Lai! What are you doing?"
A-Lai calmly pulled out the knife, casually handed it to the stunned nurse, and stared coldly at Hu San.
"What's this?"
Hu San was shocked. Not a drop of blood had spurted out. He thought to himself, "What kind of sorcery is this? Damn, he really knows something."
Some in the audience began to clap.
Just as Hu San was caught in a dilemma, someone in the crowd muttered, "How is that possible? The knife must be a retractable one, just a trick."
"Ha-ha…"
Hu San suddenly realized, "A cheap trick, and you tried to fool me? You're asking for death!"
This realization only fueled Hu San's violent tendencies. Without further ado, he launched a flurry of punches—left jab, right straight, left hook—a full combination.
A-Lai dodged left and right.
Seeing that none of his punches landed, Hu San continued with rapid left and right swings, his fists moving like a fan. A-Lai was forced to retreat, unable to counterattack. As Hu San twisted around, he aimed a straight punch at A-Lai, who was gasping for air.
"Ah!"
There were several gasps from the crowd.
A-Lai knew that if he were hit by that massive fist, he would be knocked out. He quickly ducked, slipping away under Hu San's armpit.
The crowd murmured in amazement, feeling a sense of unease for the young monk.
Hu San, seeing A-Lai's agile movements, like a small loach slipping away, paused to catch his breath.
A-Lai seized the opportunity to stop and take a deep breath.
Hu San sneered, "Alright, alright, you've got some moves!"
He then turned around, pretending to be nonchalant, and lit a cigarette, his eyes never leaving A-Lai... Suddenly, he turned back and threw a swing at the breathless A-Lai.
"Ah!"
"Cheap shot!"
Someone in the crowd screamed.
The punch landed squarely on A-Lai's eye socket, catching him off guard. His vision went black, and the world spun around him.
Hu San, delighted with his success, continued to pummel him.
A-Lai, now defenseless, was beaten until his face was bruised and swollen, blood trickling from his nostrils. "Smack!" Another heavy punch landed, causing blood to gush from his mouth.
Hu San's massive hand grabbed A-Lai by the chest, lifting him off the ground. "You, a nobody, still want to fight? Have you had enough?" he said with pride.
A-Lai glared at him, his body starting to go numb.
Hu San, seeing A-Lai covered in blood, realized that things might get out of hand if he continued. He thought it would be best to spare his life for now and finish him off later in a safer place.
With this in mind, he said, "I'm tired too. Apologize and show some respect, and I'll let you hit me three times in the chest. I won't fight back, and we'll call it even."
A-Lai, still glaring, didn't respond, his breathing growing deeper.
The crowd speculated that the middle-aged thug was perhaps afraid of causing too much trouble in public.
Hu San, growing impatient, slapped A-Lai across the face. "I'm giving you a chance, and you don't want it? Trying to play tough?"
A-Lai staggered but continued to glare with bloodshot eyes, his breathing becoming more rapid, his body increasingly numb, his muscles starting to contract.
At that moment, Hu San's wife, holding their child, pleaded tearfully, "Young man, just do as he says. Hit him three times, and it'll be over. Otherwise, he'll beat you to death. He treats me the same way at home."
Hearing his wife's words, Hu San's face grew darker, his scar twitching. Seeing that A-Lai still refused to back down, he grabbed his chest again and delivered another slap.
Blood oozed from A-Lai's mouth, and his cheek swelled up, red with the imprint of five fingers.
Humiliated and enraged, Hu San continued his assault, slapping him again.
Things were getting serious. The crowd started to stir, with some whispering, "Young man, just hit him. It's better than getting beaten up…"
Hu San's wife, terrified that things might turn fatal, continued to beg A-Lai, "Please, just hit him. If you hit him, he'll stop. My husband has a terrible temper."
Hearing this, Hu San paused, released A-Lai's clothes, and assumed a stance, patting his chest, "Go ahead. Once it's over, we're done. No hard feelings, and we go our separate ways."
A-Lai suddenly felt his muscles contracting violently with each breath, his heart fibrillating as if his body was floating.
Having been previously tempered by lightning, his body was already activated, and now a massive amount of electric charge was surging through him, gathering rapidly in his palms.
Someone in the crowd urged again, "Just hit him, and it'll be over."
"Yeah, hit him, and it's done."
Hu San's wife continued to plead, "For the sake of me and my child, please hit him."
"If you don't hit him, he'll never let you go. It's the only way."
The energy in A-Lai's palms, drawn from every organ, was like a thousand galloping horses, surging and ready to burst forth.
Hu San, his bloodshot eyes fixed on A-Lai, impatiently said, "Hurry up! What are you waiting for?"
A-Lai slowly stretched out his hand toward Hu San's chest, took a step forward, and with a shout, "Damn you!" he struck with a palm.
Hu San convulsed as if electrocuted, his body lifted off the ground, flipping backward and crashing to the ground.
"Ah!"
The crowd cried out in shock.
A-Lai, seizing the moment, rushed forward to deliver more strikes, intending to send Hu San straight to the underworld.
Hu San's wife, horrified, rushed to shield him. She found Hu San lying on his back, pale, his eyes bloodshot, foaming at the mouth, his legs kicking wildly. She tried to lift him, but he collapsed again, his body stiffening.
The crowd, witnessing the scene, was stunned into silence.
Seeing Hu San's wife and child crying and rushing over, A-Lai backed away, thinking, "I'll let you live for now."
He clasped his hands together, stood before the fallen Hu San, and chanted, "The Three Heavenly Strikes: The first strike asks the heart, the second strike has no regrets, the third strike bears no remorse. Amitabha, such is the way of karma."
At that moment, a boy in the crowd exclaimed, "Wow, the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, so cool." He mimicked the moves with his hands, reciting, "The first palm, 'Regretful Dragon', the second palm, 'Flying Dragon in the Sky'... the seventh palm, 'Sudden Strike'…" The crowd burst into laughter, their amazed eyes focusing on A-Lai.
"It's serious! He's going to die."
Suddenly, Hu San's wife screamed in despair...