Chapter 8: First Fight
Xiang Yu observed the five disciples standing before him, their intentions were clear. Despite their polite facade, malice radiated from them. He'd read enough cultivation novels to recognize this classic setup—the arrogant sect disciples seeking to humiliate the supposedly talentless senior brother.
But Xiang Yu wasn't one to be baited easily. His survival strategy hinged on avoiding unnecessary conflicts, especially with people who had nothing better to do than pick fights with the weak. With practiced calm, he smiled pleasantly and cupped his hands in the traditional greeting.
"I'm sorry fellow disciples, but I can't provide any guidance," he said, maintaining his composed expression. Then, with deliberate humility, he added, "After all, I'm not a cultivator."
Gu Wuqing, the obvious leader of this little band of troublemakers, couldn't suppress the smirk that crept across his face. He'd heard that the senior disciple of Mountain Heart Pavilion was a talentless mortal, but he hadn't expected him to be such a coward as well. This was going to be even easier than anticipated.
"Senior brother, you misunderstand," Gu Wuqing said, his voice dripping with false courtesy. "I'm not the one seeking guidance. It's my junior brothers." He gestured toward the four disciples behind him, who didn't even attempt to hide their hostility as they glared at Xiang Yu.
Xiang Yu studied them carefully, immediately noting that they weren't true cultivators either—just fellow practitioners of external techniques. Their eagerness for confrontation was written in their stances, in the tension of their shoulders.
"They heard that senior brother had started cultivating an external technique and wanted to spar," Gu Wuqing continued smoothly. "I hope senior brother doesn't mind indulging the juniors."
Xiang Yu sighed inwardly. Trouble really did have a way of finding even the most cautious of individuals.
"What's your name?" Xiang Yu asked suddenly.
The unexpected question caught Gu Wuqing off guard. What was this person asking at this moment? Did the senior brother also have problems with his brain? Still, he decided to humor the strange request.
"My name is Gu Wuqing," he answered with poorly concealed impatience.
Xiang Yu nodded silently, relief washing over him. Not Chen Mo, not Lin Feng, not Yang Chen—not a protagonist name. This meant Gu Wuqing was just another background character like himself. If that was the case, then perhaps he could afford to stand his ground without triggering some world-ending cultivation calamity. They were both extras in this grand story, so how could he lose to them?
"Alright then," Xiang Yu said, his voice carrying newfound confidence.
Gu Wuqing couldn't help but smile, exchanging knowing glances with his followers. He'd heard that Xiang Yu had only begun practicing an external technique four days ago, while his men had been training for nearly a month. One of them had even reached the Minor Success stage already. This was going to be an effortless victory, a perfect opportunity to establish dominance over the Mountain Heart Pavilion.
With a casual nod toward one of the disciples, Gu Wuqing signaled for the first challenger to step forward.
...
Xiang Yu watched with calm focus as the first challenger approached, his stance casual but eyes betraying his overconfidence. Xiang Yu had no idea what level of proficiency the other party had achieved, but it wouldn't have changed his approach anyway. He wasn't one to underestimate opponents or hold back—a habit born from his desperate survival strategy. Every action since arriving in this world had been performed as if his life depended on it.
The man advanced with a self-assured smile, swinging his knife in a wide arc toward Xiang Yu, who simply sidestepped the predictable attack with minimal movement. In one fluid motion, Xiang Yu counter-attacked, his own knife coming to rest against the challenger's neck before the man could even register what had happened. The challenger swallowed nervously, his weapon clattering to the ground as he raised his hands in surrender.
Gu Wuqing's face twisted in disbelief. "Trash," he spat, dismissing his defeated subordinate with contempt. He immediately signaled for the next challenger to step forward.
This one lasted slightly longer, managing to execute a few competent swings, but none connected with their intended target. Xiang Yu moved like water around each attack, his body responding with effortless precision. The engagement ended just as decisively, with the second challenger pinned to the ground, yielding immediately.
The third challengers met similar fate, falling to Xiang Yu's superior technique despite their month of training. With each successive victory, Gu Wuqing's expression darkened further, anger and confusion warring across his features.
Finally, the realization dawned on him—he had severely underestimated Xiang Yu. Somehow, this supposedly talentless disciple had not only begun an external technique but had already reached the Minor Success stage. No matter, he consoled himself. His final man was also at Minor Success, and surely Xiang Yu had exhausted himself with the previous battles. A wicked smile stretched across Gu Wuqing's face as he gestured for his last subordinate to step forward.
Xiang Yu remained vigilant, refusing to let his guard down despite his previous victories. As the final challenger made his opening move, Xiang Yu sidestepped as before, but when he counter-attacked, the opponent parried with unexpected skill, forcing him back slightly. This one was clearly more experienced than his predecessors.
Shifting to a defensive stance, Xiang Yu patiently waited for his opponent to commit to an attack. When the strike came, he dodged by bending low, then rose with his knife targeting the challenger's neck from below. His opponent managed to step back just in time, blocking the attack with his own weapon.
This exchange continued for several tense seconds, neither gaining a clear advantage. Gu Wuqing watched with growing impatience and confusion. Why wasn't Xiang Yu showing any signs of fatigue? And more disturbingly, why did it seem like his own man was the one being pushed back?
Xiang Yu assessed his opponent's condition, noting the telltale signs of exhaustion beginning to show. For him, this brief skirmish was nothing compared to the countless knife swings he performed from dawn until midnight every day. His body had already adapted to far greater demands.
Seizing the perfect moment, Xiang Yu closed the distance between them with startling speed. He feinted an attack toward his opponent's eyes, and when the man predictably raised his knife to defend, Xiang Yu delivered a solid punch to his solar plexus. The unexpected deviation from pure knife technique caught his opponent completely off-guard.
Without hesitation, Xiang Yu followed with a sweeping kick that sent the challenger crashing to the ground. As the man lay there gasping for breath, Xiang Yu pressed his practice knife against the challenger's throat.
"Who decided we would only use knives in this fight?" Xiang Yu thought to himself as his opponent grudgingly surrendered.
Having dispatched all four challengers, Xiang Yu offered a slight, proper bow toward Gu Wuqing's party before turning to leave. He hadn't been excessive in his defense, so he hoped they wouldn't pursue further trouble.
Gu Wuqing, however, stood trembling with rage, his face contorted in a mask of pure hatred. Never in his life had he suffered such a humiliating defeat. The casual dismissal, the effortless victories—Xiang Yu was clearly looking down on him! No, he would not let this insult go unanswered.
In the next instant, blind fury overriding all reason, Gu Wuqing charged toward the departing Xiang Yu, his knife aimed at the unsuspecting senior brother's back...