"Qin Xuan, have you lost your mind? What on earth are you babbling about?" He Yu reached out and felt Qin Xuan's forehead, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, her face was a picture of sheer bewilderment. The very idea of flattening the Han Feng Dojo was so preposterous that it left her dumbfounded.
Xiao Wu, on the other hand, stared at Qin Xuan in wide-eyed astonishment. There was a hunch in her heart that Qin Xuan wasn't just shooting his mouth off. Ever since she'd crossed paths with him, be it at Mu Xue'er's birthday bash or during Zhao Mingyu's challenge, he'd consistently defied the odds and pulled off the seemingly impossible. So, even though his latest claim bordered on the insane, a nagging thought persisted in Xiao Wu's mind: "Maybe, just maybe, he could actually make good on his word." But she quickly shook her head, banishing that outlandish notion to the recesses of her mind.
Qin Xuan, his countenance unruffled, pivoted on his heel and strode out of the infirmary.
Outside, a throng of people had congregated. Given that Xiao Wu was the reigning beauty of the school and had been wronged, cries for vengeance filled the air.
"Qin Xuan, where do you think you're going?" Meng De dashed over, having an inkling of Qin Xuan's intentions. He pleaded, "Don't be a fool. If you march off to the Han Feng Dojo, you'll be playing right into their hands."
Qin Xuan flashed a sardonic smile. "So what? If they're hell-bent on courting disaster, I'll make sure they understand the cost of provoking me."
With that, he set off at a brisk pace, the onlookers' jaws dropping in his wake.
The Han Feng Dojo.
Inside, several youths clad in pristine white taekwondo uniforms were engrossed in their practice. The dojo was bustling with over thirty individuals, each a formidable force in their own right. Many had cut their teeth in numerous provincial and municipal competitions, their skills honed to a fine edge.
Before long, two young men sauntered in, smug grins plastered across their faces. One clutched a notebook, as if it were a trophy.
"Brother Zhao, how did it pan out?"
"Gao Tian, you're back?"
Their entrance was like a magnet, drawing all eyes.
Standing ramrod straight in the center of the dojo were three middle-aged men. At the sight of the returnees, their faces cracked into smiles.
"Coach, mission accomplished!" Gao Tian announced, brandishing the notebook. "That kid will be storming in here any minute, fuming mad."
"Tsk tsk, he's got some nerve. His girlfriend's a stunner, and I almost balked at the thought of ruffling her feathers." Zhao Yujun pursed his lips, envy flickering across his features.
"Humph! He had the chops to take down Zhao Mingyu, I'll give him that."
"Seriously, Zhao Mingyu was a letdown. He dragged our dojo's name through the mud."
"This time, we'll teach those upstarts a lesson they won't forget. Who do they think they are, calling our taekwondo flashy moves?"
The air was thick with indignant shouts and sneers.
"Silence!"
A booming voice cut through the din like a knife.
Every trainee spun around, their expressions paling.
"Coach Hu!"
Hu Hai, a sprightly thirty-something, cut an imposing figure. His face was a mask of ice, his lips thin and unyielding, and his eyes ablaze with an intensity that could cut steel. Dressed in a spotless white uniform cinched with a black belt, he resembled a rapier, poised and deadly.
The trainees' faces were etched with a mixture of respect and fear. Hu Hai was one of the Han Feng Dojo's trifecta of coaches. Word had it that he'd been steeped in taekwondo since childhood and had risen through the ranks to become a black belt virtuoso. His trophy cabinet boasted an array of accolades from provincial martial arts competitions, and he was a respected figure in the provincial taekwondo fraternity.
"Zhao Mingyu lost because he was outclassed. This time, we can right his wrong, but are we to be at your beck and call every time you stumble outside? Think again." Hu Hai's voice was glacial. "Gao Tian, Zhao Yujun, hit the mats and train. Now."
The pair's bravado evaporated, and they shuffled off, heads bowed.
"Hu Hai, ease up a bit," chided a middle-aged man of similar age, his smile warm and inviting.
But the trainees knew better. Beneath that affable exterior lurked a far more menacing figure.
Qian Bai Song.
He, too, was a taekwondo black belt luminary. But his reputation was a stain on the sport. Banned from provincial competitions for his overly aggressive tactics—rumor had it that opponents who crossed his path often left the ring with broken bones or worse—he'd found refuge as a coach at the Han Feng Dojo. Under his tutelage, trainees endured brutal regimens, with hospital visits a regular occurrence.
"Humph!" Hu Hai snorted, opting to keep his counsel. He knew all too well the danger Qian Bai Song posed.
The man was a loose cannon.
A moniker bestowed upon him by the martial arts community, one that served as a warning to all who dared cross his path.
Amidst the trio of coaches, one figure remained seated, cross-legged and inscrutable. He was the apex predator of the Han Feng Dojo, a force to be reckoned with. In his presence, even Qian Bai Song, with all his bravado, was reduced to a whisper.
Li Xisheng.
The reigning champion of the provincial martial arts tournament. With taekwondo as his weapon of choice, he'd vanquished Qian Bai Song and other martial arts luminaries from Bagua, Xingyi, and beyond, clinching the crown three years running. His fame had spread far and wide, with challengers from neighboring provinces falling at his feet.
Yet, in the annals of the provincial martial arts scene, he was known as "The Shame of China". A foreigner by birth, he'd usurped the throne from the local heroes, leaving a bitter taste in the mouths of many Chinese martial arts enthusiasts.
"A student, and you're all in a tizzy? Really?"
Li Xisheng didn't so much as flinch, his eyes remaining closed as he sat in lotus position. "Zhao Mingyu lost because he was weak. Weakness is a curse."
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and a pair of wolfish orbs sent shivers down the spines of the trainees.
Bang!
His palm, a blur of motion, cleaved the air like a blade. A deafening crack rent the air, and a slab of marble as thick as ten fingers splintered in two.
The dojo was plunged into a stunned silence.
Even Hu Hai and Qian Bai Song were visibly shaken, their eyes widening in disbelief.
Li Xisheng had leveled up. He was more terrifying than ever.
"He's not of this world!"
The trainees' minds were awhirl. That palm strike was apocalyptic. If it had landed on a human, the consequences were too grisly to contemplate.
Li Xisheng inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. Rising to his feet, he fixed his gaze on the door.
"A brat dares to slander taekwondo? I won't stand for it."
The trainees cowered, their earlier bravado a distant memory.
Many secretly cursed Qin Xuan. If not for him, they'd have been spared this tongue-lashing.
"Master of the dojo, don't sweat it. What can a student do? He'll be bounced out the door before he can blink." Qian Bai Song offered a placating smile.
Li Xisheng shot him a withering glance and snorted.
Taekwondo was his religion. Insult it, and you insulted him.
Moments later, a trainee burst through the door.
"That kid's here!"
Training halted. One hothead sprang up, bellowing, "I'll take him down. How dare he disrespect taekwondo and think he can waltz in here?"
He charged out of the dojo. But in a blink, the glass door exploded in a shower of shards, and the hothead came hurtling back in.
The atmosphere shifted. Qian Bai Song and Hu Hai tensed, their eyes narrowing as they scanned the entrance.
Through the shattered glass, a young man strolled in, hands casually tucked in his pockets. His sneakers crunched on the broken glass, a sound that seemed to echo the tension in the air.
Behind him, a group of youths peeked in nervously.
The dojo was on edge. And when the trainees laid eyes on the young man's chiseled face, a kaleidoscope of emotions played out.
"Who are you?" A voice rang out, laced with anger as it eyed the groaning trainee on the floor.
The young man's face was a mask of indifference. His gaze swept across the sea of trainees and coaches, calm and unyielding.
"My name is Qin Changqing."