Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

"Shihōin family, Shihōin Gen, please enlighten me."

"I am Shihōin Hiruzaburo of the Shihōin family. Nice to meet you."

Contrary to his usual behavior, Zhou Sanlang adopted the lower stance.

"This structure is quite rare. Perhaps Saburo chose it specifically because of the height difference. What do you think, Sosuke?" Chihi asked from the viewing platform.

"Yes, Young Master Qianri. Apart from that factor, Young Master Zhou Sanlang must have observed that Young Master Xuan always chose to go first in every fight, so he set up his lower stance to seize the initiative," Feng Zongzhu analyzed.

That's exactly what Houzaburo thought.

Unfortunately, in the previous few matches, Xuan failed to take the initiative and instead chose to take the second initiative. After losing focus, he could only take the second initiative. He was wary of his opponent pretending to be exhausted and cautiously chose to take the second initiative. He was forced to take the second initiative by being attacked.

So when Zhou Sanlang saw Xuan Kaiju take the initiative to close the distance, he was taken aback.

What happened next was even more unexpected—Xuan waved his right hand, and the wooden sword flew out of his hand, spinning and drawing an arc, heading straight for Zhou Sanlang's face!

"What?!" A gasp rang out from the audience.

Throw away the knife?

In the final round of the school year competition, he voluntarily gave up his weapon?!

Zhou Sanlang's pupils contracted. The wooden sword wasn't flying fast; its trajectory was clearly visible, but that only made it seem more eerie. In a flash, he instinctively swung his sword to block—

"Snapped!"

The wooden sword was easily knocked away and rolled towards the edge of the platform.

Just as Zhou Sanlang's attention was drawn to the wooden sword, Xuan's figure suddenly blurred.

"Whoosh—!"

Instant Step!

Almost at the same instant that Zhou Sanlang completed his parry, Xuan had already closed to within two feet of him—a distance that was too close for a sword technique, but just right for a free-fighting technique.

Hiruzaburo felt a chill in his heart.

He immediately understood Xuan's intention: to use the thrown knife as bait to lure him into making a blocking motion, and then take advantage of the moment when the knife's momentum was waning and the opponent's attention was distracted to instantly close in and forcibly drag the battle into the realm of hand-to-hand combat!

—We can't let him succeed!

With a flick of his wrist, Houzaburo turned his wooden sword upside down and struck downwards, attempting to force his opponent back.

This change of tactics was extremely fast. If it were an ordinary opponent, they would probably be hit on the spot and lose their ability to fight, or they would have to retreat in order to avoid this attack and be forced to distance themselves from the wielding wooden sword, Naruzaburo, by fighting bare-handed.

However, Xuan's actions once again surprised everyone. Xuan actually chose to close the distance again, and the two were now less than a foot apart!

At such close range, his usual fighting style was no longer effective, and Houzaburo's thoughts raced. "What else can I do besides headbutt him when we're this close?"

can.

There is a traditional Chinese martial art specifically created for people with short arm spans and low strength, such as women and children;

It's the genre best suited for achieving big wins with small investments and overcoming strong opponents with weaker forces, which is why it's frequently adapted for the screen.

Wing Chun.

With his palm facing down, Xuan pressed down on Zhou Sanlang's forearm with the heel of his palm or the inside of his forearm, pushing it to the side. His downward thrust caused the direction of the sword hilt's strike to deviate slightly from the center line, grazing Xuan's shoulder.

Zhou Sanlang took a half step back, trying to create distance and readjust his stance, but Xuan followed him like a shadow.

He stepped forward with his right foot, cutting between Zhou Sanlang's feet, and thrust his left hand forward in a palm shape, aiming straight for the center.

Zhou Sanlang hurriedly sheathed his sword and pressed down, trying to intercept with the blade. However, Xuan's right fist had already shot out from below, changing from a fist to a finger strike. The power came from his waist, passed through his shoulder to his elbow, then from his elbow to his wrist, and finally burst out from his fingertips, striking his right wrist holding the sword.

Instant strike!

With a muffled thud, Zhou Sanlang felt a numbness in his wrist, and the wooden sword almost slipped from his hand. He gritted his teeth and gripped the sword tightly, simultaneously slamming his left fist towards Xuan's ribs.

Xuan neither dodged nor avoided, but used the outside of his right forearm to block horizontally to the outside, while slightly turning his body and using the power of his waist to deflect the opponent's force.

While blocking with his left arm, he changed his left palm into a fist and launched a powerful punch towards Zhou Sanlang's chest.

Zhou Sanlang had no choice but to withdraw his punch and defend, crossing his arms to block.

"Bang!"

As their fists collided, Zhou Sanlang stepped back with his right foot to dissipate the force, while Xuan followed up with a series of Sun-shaped punches, his fists pouring out like a torrential rain.

Below the stage, Feng Linxu frowned. She had seen Gen fight against Omaeda Yusuke, but Gen was using a completely different style now.

Short, dense, and direct attacks.

"He deliberately avoided the sword techniques that Hiruzaburo was best at, and instead used close-quarters combat to suppress him," Feng Linxu murmured.

Even more frightening was that although Houzaburo used a step back to deflect the force, Gen's offensive continued as if unaffected by the backlash.

Feng Linxu narrowed her eyes and looked down, discovering that Xuan was not in a horse stance, but in a posture she had never seen before: feet shoulder-width apart, toes turned inward, knees slightly bent, and center of gravity lowered.

This is precisely the "two-character clamping sheep stance" in Wing Chun, which ensures physical stability.

"But Houzaburo's hand-to-hand combat is not weak either," the cultural studies teacher whispered from the side.

"He's not weak, but he's still holding the knife at this distance." Feng Linxu shook his head. "You see, Xuan isn't giving him any space to use the knife."

The arm-blocking caused Zhusaburo's arm to go numb, and the continuous attacks made him almost breathless.

At this distance, the wooden sword became a burden—the blade was too long, requiring space to swing, and Xuanming deliberately didn't give him that space.

Houzaburo made a decision.

He suddenly threw the wooden sword to the ground.

Since the cutting technique cannot be used, let's settle this with a pure hand-to-hand combat!

Seeing that Zhusaburo had chosen to abandon his sword, Gen pulled away and relaxed his body to relieve muscle fatigue.

The Two-Character Clamping Goat Stance can only ensure body stability, but the body has to bear the recoil from the continuous Sun-Character Fist.

After the two sides created some distance between them, they both chose to take a short rest, but kept a close eye on each other's every move.

Suddenly, Sunburo used his Instant Step to approach, and a straight punch carrying a chilling spiritual pressure thrust forward!

The trainees below the stage clenched their fists, and some couldn't help but exclaim, "So fast!" Everyone's eyes were fixed on the stage—no one had ever seen this move by Zhou Sanlang before.

Xuan seized the opportunity, slightly flipped his wrist, and flicked his palm diagonally, precisely placing the heel of his palm against the inside of the opponent's fist and wrist, using the force to guide the straight punch diagonally upwards—this seemingly gentle movement caused the opponent's force to completely miss its mark.

Then, the right hand, which had been resting on Zhou Sanlang's arm, suddenly changed from an open hand to a closed hand, pressing down and pulling inward, while the body smoothly advanced into the horse stance. The left fist silently shot out from under the right arm—a Sun-shaped punch!

The audience erupted in an uproar. One student stared wide-eyed, their face filled with disbelief: "So fast!" "Student, is 'so fast' all you can say?"

"Tsk!"

Zhou Sanlang gritted his teeth, pulled in his stomach, and slammed down with his left elbow, barely blocking the punch.

But Xuan's offensive had already overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. Fists, elbows, knees, low kicks—all attacks erupted at extremely close range, so fast that it was almost impossible to tell the order. Zhou Sanlang could only try his best to block and dodge, occasionally launching a counterattack or two, but they were always intercepted in advance.

On the training ground, Zhou Sanlang felt an unprecedented sense of frustration.

Every punch and kick he threw, though clearly more powerful than Xuan's, was always abruptly cut off midway through its execution.

In a daze, Zhou Sanlang had a kind of illusion, as if he were a fish trapped in a net, and the more he struggled, the tighter the net became.

Knowing he needed to break free from this rhythm of attack and defense as soon as possible, he lowered his elbow to block a punch, and at the same time spun around and swept his leg to counterattack, his instep carrying spiritual pressure like a blade.

Xuan neither dodged nor evaded, but instead slumped his body, turned his horse, and raised his arm to deliver a powerful kick with a "thud." At the same time, he pressed forward again with force from his feet, his fists striking like a crossbow bolt, relentlessly pursuing Xuan with a series of straight punches.

"I won't fall for the same trick again!" Zhou Sanlang shouted, crossing his arms to meet the two fists head-on. With a burst of spiritual pressure, he managed to use the force to retreat. His breathing was slightly erratic, but a cold light gleamed in his eyes, as if he had made up his mind. His spiritual pressure suddenly contracted, and he clenched his right fist, slowly raising it to his chest, aiming it at Xuan's chest.

"Watch out—Instant Hammer!"