Chapter 4: Muay Thai Strikes, Wang Zhong Fights Peng Xin!

"Good time, the establishment ceremony of the Chinese Martial Arts Association officially begins!" Dì Dàlóng, who served as the master of ceremonies, shouted loudly. Dì Dàlóng had practiced martial arts since childhood and was a veteran fighter in Hong Kong, achieving fame through the Hero series.

The sound of drums and gongs echoed.

Two lions, shaking their heads and wagging their tails, ran out!

Lion dance and green picking are common entertainment activities in Hong Kong and Taiwan, symbolizing celebration and blessings.

But today's two lions were slightly different from the usual ones. Not only were they larger and more imposing, but their movements were also very agile, leaping and tumbling, drawing applause from the audience from time to time.

This made the members of the Chinese Martial Arts Association feel particularly fortunate.

Gōng Yǔtián and the other board members paid attention to the steps of the two lions, noting their low and steady stances and swift movements, indicating that they had practiced for over a decade.

"Who are the two masters performing the lion dance? Their skills are impressive, and they seem to follow the external martial arts style!" Gōng Yǔtián asked with a smile.

"They are the Liu brothers, Jiāliáng and Jiāhuī. Their father once studied under Lin Shirong, a disciple of Wong Fei-hung, learning the Iron Wire Fist and Iron Horse techniques!" Mǎ Sān whispered in Gōng Yǔtián's ear.

Gōng Yǔtián did not speak further, smiling as he watched the two lions climb the mountain and snatch the ball.

Yuán Hépíng watched the two lions excitedly, thinking, "Wong Fei-hung of Foshan, a great theme! The title will be 'King of the Lions'!"

"We came uninvited, I hope you will not be offended!"

A small but sturdy man pushed through the crowd.

"Who are you?"

Without waiting for Gōng Yǔtián's order, Mǎ Sān stepped forward.

"Peng Xin!"

Peng Xin's face looked somewhat aged, with a hint of desolation, but his voice was very loud, heard clearly by everyone inside and outside the hall.

"Peng Xin, the Muay Thai King, after winning 23 consecutive matches, was summoned by the Thai royal family to train the royal Muay Thai fighters, and is very famous in Southeast Asia!"

Someone well-informed explained Peng Xin's background to those around him.

"What is he here for?"

A dull person asked.

"Of course, to challenge the school!"

"Can our national martial arts win?"

A worried person asked.

"Of course!"

Although the person spoke confidently, his tone lacked conviction. After all, Chinese martial arts had faced Muay Thai as early as 1920, with Chen Zizheng, the Eagle Claw King, suffering a crushing defeat. Although later evidence suggested that the Eagle Claw King was not Chen Zizheng but someone else, Chinese martial arts continued to lose to Muay Thai, casting a shadow over the hearts of the Chinese people.

"What a bold move!"

Bái Yuán Mǎ Sān, with a fierce expression, clenched his fists, ready to strike Peng Xin down.

"I won't fight you, I want to fight Wang Zhong!"

Peng Xin ignored Bái Yuán Mǎ Sān and shook his head.

"Why?"

Wang Zhong, who had intended to watch the show, was unexpectedly targeted.

"I really like 'The Dragon and the Snake,' but I think the ending is problematic!"

Peng Xin did not rush to attack but spoke seriously.

"What's the problem?"

Wang Zhong felt his thoughts becoming muddled.

"The final victor should be Muay Thai, as Muay Thai is the strongest!"

Peng Xin said earnestly.

"…Are you from South Korea?"

Wang Zhong asked uncertainly.

"What do you mean?"

Peng Xin asked in confusion.

"Never mind, let's see who is better in a fight!"

Wang Zhong did not say more, standing in the center of the ring, his arms hanging down, assuming the Wuji stance of Tai Chi.

"Master!"

Bái Yuán Mǎ Sān looked unhappy as he saw Wang Zhong enter the ring.

"Don't worry, Peng Xin is not an easy opponent. Look at his withered muscles, skin tightly adhering to his bones, but his qi and blood are very vigorous. If I'm not mistaken, Peng Xin should practice ancient Indian yoga. Moreover, his skin is like brass, indicating deep external martial arts skills. You might not win if you go down!"

Gōng Yǔtián sipped his tea, looking calm, but his eyes flickered with a calculating light.

"Here comes the punch!"

Peng Xin threw a punch at Wang Zhong's face. Muay Thai is known for its iron fists, and its destructive power is evident.

Peng Xin's punch produced a sound like a small whip in the air, the result of a high-speed fist breaking the air.

Wang Zhong used a Left Wild Horse Parting the Mane to neutralize Peng Xin's iron fist. He then raised his right leg and kicked at Peng Xin's chest.

A heart-seeking kick!

As the boxing manual says: "Hands are the two gates, the legs do the fighting!"

Wang Zhong's kick was unexpected and caught Peng Xin off guard.

Peng Xin, however, was no ordinary fighter, with extensive combat experience from the ring.

He raised his left arm in front of his chest like a pillar, protecting his vital organs, and Wang Zhong's heart-seeking kick was ineffective.

Peng Xin crouched slightly and swept Wang Zhong's legs with a low kick.

The Muay Thai low kick, though simple, is powerful. The leg bones of Muay Thai fighters, hardened through long-term training, are as hard as steel. If hit, even an iron pillar would bend.

Wang Zhong did not retreat but advanced, moving like a butterfly.

"Bagua Dragon Step, perfect timing!"

Seeing Wang Zhong narrowly avoid the kick, the crowd applauded.

Wang Zhong's palm, like a cow's tongue, lightly touched Peng Xin's armpit and chest, the weak points.

Bagua Cow Tongue Palm!

It was slippery and evasive, even Peng Xin could not avoid it.

Wang Zhong released a light internal force, and Peng Xin felt a powerful force, causing him to fly backward.

Bang!

With Peng Xin's clumsy landing, the match came to an end.

"Victory!"

Even the bigwigs like Jīn Táng, Lǐ Zhàojī, and Xiàng Qiáng clenched their fists and waved them, expressing their excitement and joy. The ordinary people were even more enthusiastic.

The venue was filled with excited voices.

"The nightmare of losing to Muay Thai is over!"

Wang Zhong, however, did not relax, maintaining his attack stance. His previous palm strike felt like hitting a worn-out leather, causing little damage to Peng Xin.

Peng Xin stood up, intending to continue the fight, but seeing Wang Zhong leave the ring, he could only shake his head in frustration.

The crowd, seeing Peng Xin shake his head, thought he was thoroughly defeated and became even more excited.

Several newspaper reporters captured Peng Xin's headshake, and the next day's front-page headlines were already set: "Wang Zhong easily defeats Muay Thai, Peng Xin shakes his head in frustration."

Seeing Peng Xin lose his fighting spirit, Wang Zhong finally relaxed.

"Great! I've been wanting to fight them!" Chou Wen-chi patted Wang Zhong's shoulder hard, excitedly.

"This is a great day for the martial arts world and for Hong Kong!" Dì Dàlóng, the master of ceremonies, was also excited, waving the microphone.

Yáng Délù, Liáng Fēng, and others also gathered in the center, with the more outgoing martial artists shaking hands and hugging Wang Zhong.

"I have not lost, I still have the strength to fight!"

Muay Thai King Peng Xin was stunned, muttering to himself.

But who cared what he said at that moment? Even if some newspapers published his words, few would believe them.

"Master, he clearly did not win!"

Bái Yuán Mǎ Sān said, unable to believe it.

"Didn't they see? How can they twist the truth like this?"

"Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang once said, 'What is beneficial to the country is right, what is harmful to the country is wrong!' Hong Kong's economy has been sluggish for a long time, and it needs a hero, the people need a hero. You saw it, and Master Liáng and others also saw it. But what does it matter? At least he didn't lose!"

Gōng Yǔtián stood up, smiling.

"I still don't understand, winning is winning, losing is losing!"

Bái Yuán Mǎ Sān stiffened his neck, unable to comprehend.

"Arrogance invites loss, humility brings gain. Your temperament is too rigid, and you will eventually suffer a great loss!"

Gōng Yǔtián said meaningfully:

"There is no absolute right or wrong in this world!"

"I understand, Master!"

Mǎ Sān lowered his head, but his eyes showed a hint of disagreement.

"Alas!"

Gōng Yǔtián, who understood Mǎ Sān's nature, could only sigh helplessly.

As expected, the next day's newspaper headlines all read: "Chinese Martial Arts vs. Muay Thai, Wang Zhong becomes a young hero, a man of both literary and martial talent."

Some newspapers even grouped him with Jīn Táng, Ní Kuāng, and Huáng Zhān as the 'Five Talents of Hong Kong.'

Jīn Táng did not comment on the title, but Ní Kuāng was dismissive, shouting, "How many books has Wang Zhong written?"

Wang Zhong, upon hearing this, only smiled slightly, as his plans were already in motion.

Jīn Táng sat in the Ming Pao Building, looking troubled.

In front of him was a stack of manuscripts.

Wang Zhong's new work...

Jīn Táng read it carefully, confirming that he had not misread. Was it really that he was getting old, or was the world changing too fast?