Chương 12: The Martial Arts Competition

Unlike the other events, the martial arts competition lasted three days in total, and it was rare for anyone under 17 to participate. If you were older than 13 and not a day older than 18, you could participate. Of course, this meant that the first prize almost always went to the older combatants.

Therefore, when my age was announced, most kids laughed while the parents looked worried.

“Ready to die, worm?” the 17-year-old boy sneered at me

I sighed at the idiotic attempt at provocation. I clasped my hands behind my back and adopted a low stance.

“Begin!”

As expected, the boy rushed me, attempting to punch me in the face. Therefore, all I had to do was move away from the path, kick his feet from under him and let physics do the rest.

My calculations were correct and the idiot landed face-first outside the platform.

“Winner, Shen Mu!” There was no applause, nor did I expect anything from such a horrible display. To think I had high expectations for the noble children!

I walked out of the platform, and immediately found the guy’s ‘friends’ surrounding me.

“You signed your death warrant, peasant.”

“We will beat you to death!”

“We won’t stop even if you beg!”

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. These three reminded me a lot of a show called the three stooges.

“What are you smiling at, you worm?”

“At your poor attempt at intimidation” I dead-panned. “Now, be patient and wait for your turn on the platform.”

Their answer was suddenly cut off by the announcer’s voice shouting “Winner, Heng Hui!” We all turned to see an 18-year-old on the ground, and the 15-year-old prince kneeling on his chest.

The older boy had surrendered instead of laying a hand on the prince, in retaliation, the royal had kicked him into submission… well, further submission.

I shook my head and took that time to evade the wanna-be bullies to return to the waiting area, expecting to be called at any moment.

A commotion began outside the tent the moment my name was called again, when I stepped outside, I finally figured out why: the emperor had ordered his servants to move his pavilion so he could directly watch the bouts. It was completely unheard of because children's kung-fu was mostly considered ‘impure’ for the eyes of the holy emperor. That was the reason why most competitions had imperial representatives as judges. They were to be the eyes and ears of the emperor in each event.

In my mind, I figured that the fact that the emperor himself was watching the match could only mean 2 things: 1, he had considered the representatives’ work as incompetent; or 2, the competition was going to be used in a political power play.

I had planned to defeat the prince without touching him, but even that might be regarded as a taboo now that the emperor was present. I sighed, hoping that I wouldn’t be beheaded before I turned 14.

I was paired with one of the boys that had threatened me before and I smiled. ‘At least fate seems fit to give me some release to my frustrations before the real fight.’

We bowed deeply in the direction of the emperor and said in unison “These servants salute the emperor!”

At a gesture from the old man, the announcer instructed us to bow to each other, which I did willingly, and the other with little reluctance.

I clasped my hands behind my back and adopted a low stance yet again.

“Begin!”

What is with bad guys rushing at me?

I frowned, stepped to a side, and kicked him in the guts with only a fraction of my strength.

And just like that, the match was over.

I shook my head and bowed to the emperor once more.

“This subject is sorry for the lackluster display of this match.”

I heard him chuckle and was thus dismissed until my next match.

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