Why do I have so many masters?

In the land of Great Qin, martial artists abound, and it is common for them to spar and compete. There are myriad matters between individuals that even honest officials struggle to resolve, naturally evolving into a custom where martial artists judge superiority through sparring–not only is it routine, in many instances it can even be considered an elegant affair.

Wang Anfeng had never witnessed such events with his own eyes, but they were always featured in the tales told by his elder. There would always be a story of a first encounter in youth, where a young boy and girl would cross hands and come to know each other.

In every narrative, there would be a capricious maiden obstructing the path of a brash youth stepping out into the world for the first time, his mind filled with grand visions. Her radiant splendor would have him hopping with frustration, almost driving him to toss his sword aside, split his horse in two, and return to his hometown to feed pigs and till the land.

Crying out, "To hell with Jianghu!"

He would even wonder if, in his elder's past, there truly had been such a girl.

Haunting like a dream, no matter how the stories' young protagonist's appearance and character might change, she would invariably appear at just the right moment in his fate, refusing to miss the slightest bit.

As Wang Anfeng was slightly lost in thought, a contender had already leaped out from the Military Family's youth. It was not the strongest person Anfeng had felt lurking; it was instead a girl who, while obviously weaker, had delicate features and was remarkable for her valiant and dashing air, unfazed by the men around her. She stepped forward and stopped two meters from Wang Anfeng.

With a fist salute, she said,

"I've set my sight on this challenge, therefore, I shall fight the first match."

"You are that child's elder brother, right? It's only natural for you and me to face off."

Having spoken, she took a stance, like a military formation spreading out in all directions, her bearing stern and resolute. As the girl began to speak, Wang Anfeng thought he heard an uncontrollable snort of anger. First slightly startled, he found it inappropriate to turn and look, his mind consumed by curiosity, yet his expression remained composed and clear.

He adopted a fist technique stance and said,

"Please."

The young girl arched an eyebrow and replied, "Competing with that child was unfair from the start on our part. I'll let you have the first move."

Wang Anfeng was momentarily taken aback but then chuckled softly, warmly responding,

"Then on behalf of Yun'er, I thank the young lady for your gracious offer."

After he spoke, he raised his right hand, palm open and fingers extended forward like a Scholar beneath a tree beckoning a guest inside, entirely honorable without the slightest hint of aggression. He softly said,

"One move has been made, please."

The Military Family girl, upon seeing this, lifted the corner of her mouth and took a step forward with a sharp cry. Her fist shot out as fierce as a great horse's spear, daunting in its ferocity. Wang Anfeng sidestepped, using only his right fist in a simple parry, deflecting the girl's fierce punch just right and took a step backward, easily dissipating the force.

The girl shouted as she pressed the attack, but Wang Anfeng defended with ordinary Martial Arts, his boxing method practical and straightforward, even more so when facing Military Family's skills.

The two exchanged blows again and again.

To the onlookers, the Military Family progeny's punches were sharp as fire, with an aggressive offensive approach that was immensely powerful, whereas the youth's boxing seemed simple and unadorned, appearing similar to the techniques found in the average Martial Arts School, far less spectacular than the Military Family's boxing skills; in a few exchanges, he seemed decidedly inferior.

"This Military Family boxing art is derived from the aggressive and fiery realm of intent. The longer it goes on, the fiercer the 'fire' burns, making victory ever more difficult. Ah, I thought that young man bore himself quite well, but I didn't expect him to be defeated so easily."

"Could it be that he has never heard of the Military Family's 'Fist Scripture' and its principles?"

A Scholar within the crowd let out a soft sigh, and those around nodded in agreement.

But just as they were betting how many moves it would take for the Military Family girl to win, Wang Anfeng took a step, and suddenly, the girl—who had reached the peak of her boxing technique—found the youth's figure disappearing from her sight. Her punch, hefty with momentum, could not be redirected in a flash; a sense of dread filled her heart, and she forcibly urged her Martial Power.

It took several breaths for her to halt.

Whirling around, the youth stood before her with a serene expression, one palm already firmly hovering three inches from the side of her neck. Had it been a real fight, her head would have soared from her shoulders. She had thought victory was within her grasp, only to be defeated in a manner she had never anticipated, leaving her feeling dejected and her complexion turning pale.

"You..."

Wang Anfeng stepped back, lowering his hand, and with a smile, he said,

"The young lady's punches are fierce; I'm no match in a direct clash. I intended to dodge to one side, but I was lucky to win with one move."

"Thank you for yielding."

From the side, the chief bailiff shouted,

"First round, this young fellow wins!"

"Second round, the Military Family sends in another contestant. Come on, put in more effort. Somehow replace the young lady's elder brother, haha, and don't be so careless. Otherwise, when you return, you're sure to face additional training."

The Military Family girl bit her lower lip, offered a fist salute, but still couldn't swallow her pride and said,

"You're not bad, but you're not that much better than me either."

"This time was just your luck!"

She stomped her foot, turning to rejoin the other youths. The young man who had previously spoken to Wang Anfeng pulled out a wooden sword from somewhere and took to the field with a big smile, spinning the sword and saying,

"I shall take the stage for the second round. Little brother, would you like to find a weapon? Like your Eight-Sided Sword, perhaps?"

Wang Anfeng subtly felt that this young man's Inner Strength was no match for him, and his Whip Lock was exceedingly long and heavy, capable of sinister strikes with his Spirit Snake technique, which could easily harm someone. Although the sword was wooden, Master Ying did not permit drawing swords. So smiling, he raised his fist and said,

"Thank you for the offer... However, I've practiced fist technique the longest."

The young man with the sword across from him chuckled lightly upon hearing this. He held the sword with both hands, the blade parallel to his eyebrows and resting beside him, and said,

"Then... I shall learn from you."

"Second round, begin!"

Bearing a solemn expression, the young man moved quickly, gripping the wooden sword like a tiger pouncing on its prey and charged at Wang Anfeng. The sword was modeled after the standard combat sword of Great Qin.

Not yet close, he was already hacking down from above with several strikes, though not particularly powerful, they were exceedingly fast like a howling gale, creating a tempestuous whirlwind with his movements.