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

Everyone in the martial arts academy who knew Fu Qing—An Sheng, Pei Qing, and Han Duo—all stood up from their seats.

An Sheng's eyes widened, and he almost dropped the silver spear. "Luckily, I didn't let him catch me last time. That damn guy even hid a knife!"

Pei Qing's legs began to tremble again. He recalled the scene when he led his men to besiege Fu Qing and were all wiped out, and he couldn't help but shudder.

The newly replaced nine-section steel whip in Han Duo's hand fell to the ground with a "thud." He swallowed hard and suddenly felt that it was a blessing from his ancestors that he had only broken one wrist!

The martial arts students in the stands erupted in cheers.

Some people held their scabbards above their heads, while others frantically pounded on the railings.

"We won!"

"Junior Brother Fu!"

"Fu Qing! Fu Qing! Fu Qing!"

The shouts made the flags around the ring tremble.

Ling Yushu put down his teacup, and a bright light flashed in his eyes, which had seen countless geniuses over the past three hundred years.

He looked at Fu Qing, who stood on the stage with his sword sheathed, and laughed heartily.

"After the twelve strikes, there's one more. This kid broke through on the battlefield. The battle report from the border says he fought his way up from the Body Tempering Realm to the Meridian Opening Realm, with each breakthrough happening on the battlefield. I thought Tian Jingming was just saying nice things for him, but now it seems he didn't write enough."

The smile on Crown Prince Ling Moqian's face faded. He had originally thought that Fu Qing would be suppressed by Xiahou Jun, or even seriously injured. A seriously injured Fu Qing would be easier to win over than an invincible Fu Qing.

But what he saw was Fu Qing breaking through in the face of death, unleashing a thirteenth strike that no one had ever seen before.

He leaned back in his chair and went over his previous plan to win him over from beginning to end. He realized that it wasn't enough to win someone over just by trying to win them over.

He needs Fu Qing, but he also begins to fear Fu Qing.

Ling Moxie held the teacup, a slight smile curving her lips.

The blue phoenix beside her looked excitedly at its master, then suddenly its eyes widened.

"Princess, you smiled!"

Ling Moxie placed the teacup back on the tea tray, her face expressionless.

You've misjudged.

Qingluan smiled and lowered her head, saying nothing more.

Yunnan Zhi stood up from her seat. She had previously thought that Fu Qing was just a lucky martial artist who occasionally wrote a good poem, but she later realized that she was wrong.

She later thought that Fu Qing's martial arts talent was at most similar to An Sheng's, but now she realizes she was wrong.

As she watched Fu Qing walk off the stage, she said something extremely concise to Gongsun Ming beside her.

"I've decided to have this person."

Gongsun Ming was startled and quickly lowered his voice, "Princess, please watch your words! This is a diplomatic relationship between our two countries!"

Yunnan ignored him, her gaze following Fu Qing until he sat down in the stands.

Yu Guangtian slammed his hand on the armrest of the chair, and the armrest cracked with a snap.

"I told you so, Fu Qing is a good kid! Old Zhao, you were just saying he was getting beaten up, but look at him now? He sent that Xiahou guy flying with thirteen strikes!"

Zhao Qianzhi was so excited that his beard trembled. "I misjudged him! General Fu's strike... Although I am not a martial artist, the spirit of that strike is more magnificent than any poem! I admire him! I prostrate myself in admiration!"

Sun Zhongwen, standing beside him, stroked his beard and nodded repeatedly. "Poetry has its own unique charm, swordsmanship has its own unique charm, and General Fu's mastery of both literary and martial arts is something I have truly witnessed today."

Xiahou Jun got up from the ground, looked down at the four broken maces stuck in the stone slab, and then looked up at Fu Qing.

He suddenly grinned, a smile devoid of resentment, only a relieved ease.

"My great-grandfather was right, the Feng clan is invincible. I trained for decades to defeat the Feng clan, but I still lost. However..."

He clapped his hands. "It's not shameful to lose to Feng Changyang's descendant. My great-grandfather, if he could see this strike in heaven, would be able to rest in peace."

He clasped his hands in a deep bow to Fu Qing, then turned and walked off the stage, his back straight.

Several Kangguo guards tried to help him up, but he waved them off and walked back to the delegation's seats.

...

The third round of poetry recitals took place at the Royal Academy.

The academy was filled with bookshelves, and the desks were piled high with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. Outside the window was the autumn sun over Jingjing.

Ling Yushu sat in the main seat, Yunnan Zhi sat in the guest seat, and the civil and military officials of the two countries sat on either side.

The person chosen by the Jingguo side for this match was Sun Zhongwen, the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy. This elderly Confucian scholar, who was over sixty years old, had devoted his life to poetry and prose. In his youth, he had won first place in the Jingjing Poetry Competition, and his mastery of poetry was unmatched in the Jingguo court.

Sun Zhongwen sat in the chief seat of the civil officials of Jingguo. Xuan paper had been laid out in front of him, and the ink in the inkstone had been ground. He was stroking his beard and talking quietly with Zhao Qianzhi next to him, looking calm and composed.

In his view, although Kang Guo was deeply versed in poetry, he had devoted most of his life to this art and had few rivals in the world.

Moreover, the criteria for judging poetry are very complex, and everyone has their own opinion, making it difficult to distinguish between good and bad. So even if he can't win, he won't lose either.

Just as everything was ready, Yunnan Zhi stood up and cupped his hands in greeting to Ling Yushu.

"Your Majesty, for this challenge, I would like to request... General Fu to participate!"

Sun Zhongwen stopped stroking his beard, and Zhao Qianzhi froze in mid-air with his teacup in hand.

A buzzing sound of whispering arose among the civil officials of Jingguo—it was Fu Qing again?

They let him compete in debate, they let him compete in martial arts, and now they want him to compete in poetry too?

Crown Prince Ling Moqian frowned slightly. He had originally hoped that Sun Zhongwen would easily win this round, but unexpectedly, Yunnan had specifically named Fu Qing.

Is this Princess Kangguo eyeing Fu Qing, or is she testing him for something?

He glanced at Ling Moxie and lowered his voice, "Third Sister, Fu Qing is your guard. Say something."

Ling Moxie didn't look at him, but simply held her teacup and replied calmly, "Why is Your Highness in such a hurry? Fu Qing hasn't even spoken yet."

After finishing her sentence, Yunnan said, "I have long heard that General Fu's 'Qinyuanchun' is magnificent and powerful. The King of Kangguo was amazed after reading it and said that this poem 'cannot be written by anyone but someone with a great vision in their heart'."

"I have already witnessed General Fu's eloquence in the debate, and I personally witnessed his thirteenth strike in the last martial arts competition. As for the poetry challenge—I would like to see if General Fu is truly as accomplished in both literature and martial arts as rumored. I humbly request Your Majesty to grant my request."

Sun Zhongwen stood up, bowed slightly to the Yunnan representative, and appeared somewhat displeased.

"Your Highness, the art of poetry is not something that can be mastered overnight. General Fu's 'Qinyuanchun' is indeed a masterpiece, but poetry competitions are not like witty debates. Wit can be achieved through quick thinking, but poetry requires years of accumulation."

"I am not questioning General Fu's talent, but Mr. Zhou Mengxi, sent by Kangguo, is a leading figure among the younger generation of poets in your country, having immersed himself in this art for decades. To have a military general compete with a professional poet in poetry is no different from having Mr. Zhou compete with General Fu in swordsmanship."

His words made sense, and the civil officials of Jingguo nodded in agreement.

Zhao Qianzhi put down his teacup, stood up, and echoed, "What Grand Master Sun said is absolutely right. Poetry competitions emphasize the skill of word choice and sentence structure. Although General Fu has written some good lyrics, he is not a professional poet after all..."

Crown Prince Ling Moqian leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Sun Zhongwen and Fu Qing.

He knew, of course, that Fu Qing could write lyrics; even he had to admit that Fu Qing's "Qinyuanchun" was magnificent.

However, Zhou Mengxi was a leading figure in the Kangxi poetry scene, and his poetic foundation was more solid than Gongsun Ming's wit and argumentation.

While one can win through clever tricks in verbal debate, one cannot win through clever tricks in poetry.

"Before General Fu defeated Mr. Gongsun on the debate platform, everyone said that debate was not his specialty."

Yunnan replied calmly, then turned to Fu Qing, smiling gently, her radiance captivating.

"General Fu, what do you say?"

All eyes turned to Fu Qing once again.

Yunnan's smile was incredibly gentle, and coupled with her stunning beauty, it momentarily captivated Fu Qing.

Seeing his older brother's blank expression, Yu Fu's heart sank. "Oh no! My brother's weakness has been exploited!"

"General Fu?"

Yunnan called out again, and Fu Qing finally snapped out of his daze, stood up, and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Sun Zhongwen.

"I appreciate Grand Master Sun's kindness, but since His Highness Yun wants to see it, I will make a fool of myself."