During the Republic of China era, I achieved unparalleled success by returning to the past.

"The Black Prison Master has won four consecutive matches, and the championship title is beckoning to him. Who can break his undefeated streak?"

The shouts of the officials were shrill and distorted through the loudspeakers, while dust churned and boiled in the dim yellow light cast by the large gas lamps.

A voice from below the stage calmly responded, "Me."

The stands, which had been bubbling like boiling porridge, suddenly fell silent. All eyes were fixed on a white figure leaping onto the boxing ring. Dressed in leather shoes, straight black trousers, and a white shirt, the figure moved with unhurried steps and stood tall, completely out of place in the rough atmosphere around him.

"A-You? It's A-You!"

"The biggest upset, Ayumi, has taken the stage!"

"Can he do it?"

"Although Ayou has never been defeated, he might not be able to withstand the Black Prison Lord."

Inside the private room, Young Master Chang raised an eyebrow at the pale-faced Zhou Wanchuan and asked calmly, "Is the Black Prison Master really that powerful? Even Uncle Zhou is no match for him?"

Zhou Wanchuan looked ashamed: "I underestimated him, and this Black Prison Lord is rather strange."

Chang Shao turned to look at the arena below: "Uncle Zhou, who do you think will win?"

"Hey, that's obvious. That kid's only at the Ming Jin level, how could he possibly beat me?"

"That's right."

In another private room, Zhang Feilong stood behind a curtain with his hands behind his back, his eyes cold and brooding: "Even if I were to fight the Black Prison Lord, I wouldn't dare say I'd win for sure. If this kid goes up there, he's doomed."

He pulled out a cigarette case from his pocket, took out a cigar, and put it in his mouth. "Let me make one last big profit before I die. Make the most of it." He turned to his strategist, who wore gold-rimmed glasses, beside him: "Go place your bets, bet on the Black Prison Lord, and buy until the bets are wiped out."

"Heh, but I'm going to bet on this kid to win. He wins every boxing match easily and beautifully; he's not stupid. I want to see how he turns things around. Go bet a thousand dollars on him; I'm betting on this kid to win."

A soft, effeminate laugh came from next door. Only two wrists were visible behind the curtain, holding a teacup and offering it to the person opposite. The person was male, but his every move was as graceful as a female impersonator in a Peking Opera.

"You really think highly of him?" A slender, fair hand reached out from across the table and gently took the teacup.

"The person that Uncle Lian has chosen is definitely right."

The Master Lian he spoke of was only a graceful figure from behind. Her snow-white neck was radiant, her earlobes were translucent, and her chin was as soft as if carved. Even just half of her profile was captivating.

"Jade Fox, how much money do you make from one show? Don't gamble away your underwear." Zhang Feilong laughed wildly from next door.

……

As the officials left the stage, a loud gong rang out, and the stands fell silent, the atmosphere seemingly frozen in time.

Song Beiyou composed himself, stepping steadily on patches of dark brown bloodstains, and walked five steps away from the Lord of the Black Prison.

"Song Beiyou, please."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Lord of the Black Prison suddenly looked up, his eyes flashing with a violent and cold light. Without any warning, he suddenly darted in! A putrid stench rolled in like an iron gate with the strong wind.

Song Beiyou was prepared, and with his long arm extended forward, he struck from afar, unleashing all his strength.

A muffled thud, a hard collision of fist and shoulder.

He trembled slightly, took a step back, and tensed his arm muscles to deflect the impact. He had already activated his Autumn Cicada Premonition when he announced his name, so no matter how fast the opponent's punch was, it was almost slowed down in his vision. Therefore, he used the White Ape Eight Arms to block the punch head-on, but he barely managed to deflect the opponent's attack.

With just one move, Song Beiyou understood that "White Ape Eight Arms" was a fierce and powerful style, and that he would definitely not be able to win by directly confronting Bajiquan. His arm bones were faintly numb, and if he took two more moves, he would definitely suffer internal injuries. In an instant, he switched "White Ape Eight Arms" to "Internal Cultivation Tai Chi".

In an instant, the energy in his arms surged forth like silkworms spinning silk, layer upon layer, enveloping his muscles and joints.

At the same time, the Lord of the Black Prison paused, swaying slightly. He stomped his back foot on the ground, his body spinning like a top, twisting his waist and turning, unleashing a horizontal elbow strike!

Whoosh—the powerful energy penetrated through the muscles and bones, like a heavy hammer striking the body.

In the blink of an eye, Song Beiyou's feet were planted firmly on the boxing ring, his body leaning back slightly like a pine tree in the wind. His shirt brushed against his elbow, and he was only half an inch away from being hit in the chest.

With his right elbow striking empty air, the Black Prison Master swiftly stretched his shoulders and arms, tensing them like a bow, and clenched his right fist like an arrow, aiming straight for his ear.

The force of the blow to his left ear was like a thunderclap in a dry sky. Song Beiyou's upper body swayed to the side like a pendulum, his palms lightly cupping the opponent's powerful punch. With a tremor and a shake, he subtly channeled his inner strength, rotating it along the punch's momentum, forcefully deflecting the domineering force.

"Tai Chi Entangling Hands!" someone in the second-floor stands exclaimed in surprise!

A collective gasp of cold air instantly filled the air around them.

No one could have imagined that Song Beiyou was actually a hidden master of Tai Chi internal strength!

In the corner, Shen Sanlang, whose hand was wrapped in bandages and whose neck was drastically hanging, and the short, stocky Chen Tiezha, both had drastically changed expressions. Putting themselves in Song Beiyou's shoes, they realized that Song had probably only used a third of his strength when they fought him earlier. If he had gone all out, the two of them wouldn't have lasted more than three rounds.

The spectators in the stands held their breath and stared wide-eyed. They had all thought the contest would be over in a move or two, but it turned out to be a close fight.

"The outcome is now uncertain!"

"Not necessarily! Even if this kid started training from the womb, how many years of cultivation could he possibly have? How many years of cultivation does the Black Prison Lord have?"

On the boxing ring, the Black Prison Master seemed to have a deep understanding of how to break through the entangling force of Tai Chi. With a swift movement, his arms stretched out like a monstrous python, and his fists and elbows struck with unparalleled speed.

Song Beiyou, however, stood firmly on his feet like a rock, his body swaying like a pine tree in the wind. He spread out his palms, twisting and turning them to deflect the fierce, grinding killing move, which was like a storm or a crushing iron wheel.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Fists and palms clashed, a tight, impenetrable barrage!

Suddenly, Song Beiyou let out a clear shout, his body moved like a crane stretching out, his long arms reaching out, and two heavy blows exploded at the same time. The figures that were originally intertwined and indistinguishable were sent flying backward and separated in an instant.

"That felt great!" Song Beiyou took five steps back, stretching his arm that had been hit. A drop of sweat rolled down, mixed with the heat and dust of the boxing ring, and dripped onto his fist, trembling slightly.

The Black Prison Lord possessed profound and enduring internal energy; a prolonged, drawn-out fight was not advisable. He had to unleash his ultimate move! Having made up his mind, he looked arrogantly at the Black Prison Lord, who had taken three steps back, and grinned, "Now it's my turn. You'd better watch out."

Before he finished speaking, he kicked off with both feet, his body seemingly moving out of thin air, and he darted two steps away from the Black Prison Master in a flash. He gathered his strength and pointed his sword, and with an exquisitely precise trajectory, he circled around the Black Prison Master in an instant.

It was that ingenious trick of piercing a leaf with a single finger.

His speed was so fast that his afterimages appeared almost simultaneously in front of, behind, to the left and right of the Black Prison Lord.

*Pfft pfft pfft pfft!* The gray prison clothes on the Black Prison Lord's body tore open one after another, and thin, deep lines of blood gushed out from under his skin, spreading instantly.

His droopy eyelids suddenly lifted, and for the first time, a clear look of surprise appeared in his eyes.

"Ah—!" The spectators in the stands let out a brief gasp, then fell silent as if they had been choked.

In a flash, Song Beiyou's illusory figure suddenly became still, like the eye of a storm suddenly stopping. His fingertips pierced straight for the throat of the Black Prison Master, and his internal hidden strength and blazing Yang fire energy burst forth at the same time.

A scorching heat aura, about an inch long, rose from the fingertip, causing the air to distort slightly.

"What?!"

The Black Prison Lord's yellowish pupils contracted sharply, his head snapped back, and at the same time he crossed his arms to parry the deadly attack.

With a deep shout, Song Beiyou unleashed a torrent of energy, his entire body surging forward. At the same time, he supported his wrist with his left hand, channeling all his life's power into his sword finger and pressing it forward.

Thump thump thump thump! The Black Prison Lord staggered back, his footsteps sending shards of stone flying from the hard concrete boxing ring.

With a crash, his back slammed against the railing, a muffled roar escaping his throat. He stomped his foot on the railing post, forcefully repelling Song Beiyou's attack.

Song Beiyou's expression was cold and aloof. His arm moved in a circular motion, and with a large circle, the fiery energy of the blazing sun swept across the Black Prison Master through the railing.

Splash! Plop!

The surroundings seemed to freeze instantly.

Under the dim lamplight, heat waves and dust churned, several sections of the arm-thick iron chain snapped, and the Black Prison Lord exploded with blood mist as he fell off the boxing ring.