Chaotic Times and Disasters: I Hunt Down Martial Arts Masters and Become a God

Gongsun Ming bowed deeply to Fu Qing, "General Fu's words are all reasonable. I have been studying 'a white horse is not a horse' for over a decade, and I have never thought of using my own actions to test my theory. General Fu's argument has completely convinced me!"

The side hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and it took several breaths to get there.

Zhao Qianzhi stood up abruptly and bowed deeply to Fu Qing, his voice trembling.

"General Fu! I've debated all my life and never seen anything like how you break through a deadlock! You don't use words to dissect words, but directly use the opponent's real-world actions to deduce their theory. I've never heard of such a move before! I've learned a lot! I've learned a lot!"

He straightened up and turned towards Yunnan, his mustache sticking up high.

"Your Highness, I retract my words! He's more eloquent than all the civil officials present! Hahahaha!"

Ling Yushu laughed heartily, his laughter echoing through the side hall.

"What a brilliant 'white horse is not a horse'! Fu Qing, your mouth can not only write poetry, but also kill! You've refuted the debate that Master Gongsun studied for over a decade with just a few words. Let's see who dares to say that all warriors are uncultured brutes from now on!"

Yunnan looked at Fu Qing, a strange light flashing in his eyes, then slowly rose and raised his glass to Fu Qing.

"General Fu, I came to Jingjing expecting to witness a closely contested debate, but instead I witnessed a one-sided massacre."

She downed the wine in her glass in one gulp. "Even if General Fu wins the first round of the debate duel, it won't affect my spot. But I accept my defeat wholeheartedly."

Yu Fu slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair. "Brother Fu! You're fucking handsome!"

Yu Guangtian, standing to the side, picked his nose and laughed heartily.

"I told you so, Old Yu! Fu Qing is a capable kid!"

"Dad, didn't you say my brother was crazy?"

Yu Guangtian turned his head and glared at his son, then clenched his fist, which was as big as a sandbag. Yu Fu shivered and fell silent.

Fu Qing sat back down, picked up his wine glass, and his gaze met that of the Yunnan princess across from him. The princess was looking at him with a smile, her wine glass in hand.

...

The next day, the martial arts competition was held at the martial arts academy's arena.

The arena was packed with people, and the martial arts academy students squeezed the stands so tightly that those who arrived late could only stand in the aisles and tiptoe to see.

Fan Zheng personally served as the referee, while the veteran stood by the ring, wiping the gong with a blank expression.

On the Jingguo side, An Sheng was already making preparations offstage. He leaned his silver spear against the weapon rack and was tightly wrapping his hand holding the spear with a piece of white cloth, wrapping it tightly again and again.

Fu Qing sat next to him, while Yu Fu sat behind Fu Qing, holding a bag of freshly roasted chestnuts in his hands, but he hadn't peeled a single one. An Sheng was about to go on stage, and he was so nervous that he didn't even have time to eat the chestnuts.

On the Kang Kingdom side, Xiahou Jun stepped out from the delegation.

He was in his early thirties, with broad shoulders and long arms, carrying a golden mace in each hand. The mace was over three feet long and entirely golden.

He slammed his double maces onto the ring with a dull thud, leaving two shallow white marks on the ring.

He glanced at the stands on the Jingguo side, his gaze lingering on Fu Qing for a moment before he looked away, then clasped his hands in a fist salute to An Sheng.

"Xiahou Jun, seventh level of the Meridian Opening Realm. Please."

An Sheng stepped onto the arena, spear in hand, twirling the silver spear in a flourish, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground: "An Sheng, seventh level of Meridian Opening. Please."

The gong was struck.

Xiahou Jun unleashed both maces simultaneously, sweeping horizontally with his left mace and slashing vertically with his right. The two golden maces in his hands resembled two golden dragons, their attacks fierce and dense.

An Sheng's silver spear is known for its agility; with a swift, twisting motion, he deflected the force of several maces.

The two fought for dozens of rounds on the stage. An Sheng gradually felt the strain. Xiahou Jun's mace technique was fierce and unparalleled. Every mace hit was powerful and heavy, and his spear shaft was pounded and made to vibrate.

An Sheng was anxious, so he deliberately retreated a few steps to lure Xiahou Jun to catch up. Then he suddenly turned around and thrust out with his spear – Dragon Turn!

The spear tip drew a silver arc and pierced Xiahou Jun's chest.

Xiahou Jun's lips curled up, and with a "clang," he blocked the spear tip with his left golden mace, while his right golden mace followed up by smashing towards An Sheng's shoulder.

An Sheng didn't have time to retract his spear and defend. The golden mace slammed into his shoulder, forcing him to stagger back seven or eight steps and kneel on one knee at the edge of the arena. He barely managed to support himself with his silver spear on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

He looked up at Xiahou Jun, panting.

"You're fucking strong!"

Then he stood up and nodded to Fan Zheng: "I admit defeat."

Fan Zheng raised the bronze gong: "Second round, martial arts—Kang Guosheng!"

A sigh of regret rose from the stands. Yu Fu, his face crestfallen, muttered to himself.

"Senior Brother An Sheng actually lost. Xiahou Jun's mace was too heavy."

An Sheng was helped off the stage by his two junior brothers. As he passed Fu Qingshi, he gave a wry smile and said, "It would have been better if you had gone up there. It was embarrassing."

"I might not even win..."

Fu Qing shook his head and was about to check on An Sheng's recovery when a deep voice came from the arena.

"Fu Qing".

Fu Qing turned his head and saw Xiahou Jun standing in the center of the arena, his double maces resting on the ground as he looked at him.

The Kangguo general's forehead was still covered in sweat, and his chest was heaving violently.

"I've heard that General Fu is a descendant of the Feng family, a descendant of Feng Changyang. My great-grandfather was Xiahou Yue, the marshal of Kang State, who was defeated by Feng Changyang four times on the battlefield!"

"After the final battle, my great-grandfather fell ill and died in despair. Before his death, he left behind the words, 'The Feng clan is invincible.'"

He pulled the double maces from the ground.

"These words weighed heavily on the Xiahou family for generations. Later, my Xiahou family wanted to fight the Feng family again, but the Feng family was poisoned and their population dwindled. I thought I would never have another chance in this lifetime, but unexpectedly, heaven took pity on us and there was still a Feng family orphan alive..."

At this point, he raised his mace and pointed it at Fu Qing.

"Today, I will defeat Feng Changyang's descendant in front of everyone and vindicate the Xiahou family. Fu Qing—do you dare to come up here?"

The martial arts arena fell silent, and all eyes turned to Fu Qing.

The martial arts academy students in the stands were whispering amongst themselves.

"Fu Qing just killed a Qi Refining Realm cultivator in Quzhou yesterday, so he should be able to handle it, right?"

"That was a protective aura that took dozens of strikes to break. Xiahou Jun is at the seventh level of the Meridian Opening Realm, and Fu Qing has never lost to him at the same level!"

Moreover, they all knew that Xiahou Jun's challenge to the Feng clan's descendants was a family feud that had been brewing for generations. Such a battle was unlikely to end easily; if something went wrong...

"Brother Fu, your injury hasn't fully healed yet, don't act rashly..."

Yu Fu tugged at Fu Qing's sleeve, a rare look of tension appearing on his round face.

"Xiahou Jun's mace technique is indeed formidable..."

An Sheng, clutching his shoulder, walked to Fu Qing's side and lowered his voice.

"When I fought him just now, he wasn't using his full strength. He was only fighting me to win, but against you, he'll probably be fighting with everything he has. Be careful."

Ling Yushu sat on the throne and glanced at Yunnan Zhi, whose expression remained unchanged.

Ling Moxie, sitting to the side below, raised an eyebrow slightly, somewhat surprised.

"I know nothing about, nor do I care about, the grudges of my ancestors..."

Fu Qing stood up, picked up the Cold Iron Blade from beside the chair, and walked step by step onto the arena.

He stood opposite Xiahou Jun, drew his sword, and pointed the tip diagonally at the ground.

"But if you want to fight, I'm ready."