Journey to the West: The Immortal Clan Begins by Feeding Monkeys at Five Elements Mountain

Chapter 27 The Basics of Boxing
At dawn, the county magistrate's office was already bustling with activity as soon as it was light.

The boys lined up neatly as usual, practicing their stances with great precision, and their morning lesson was conducted in a disciplined and methodical manner.

The instructor gave the same orders as always, and the sounds of fists and palms rose and fell in the morning light—just another ordinary day.

No one mentioned the word "distribution," as if the commotion in the yamen yesterday was nothing more than a few rustling sounds.

Those coaches, however, usually only glanced at us from the shadows.

At this moment, they took turns circling around to inspect the area, glancing at something from the corner of their eyes every now and then.

That was the spot where Jiang Liang was standing.

His opponent today is a man named Li Wenxuan.

He was tall and slender, with a fair complexion and no beard, and his satin shirt shimmered slightly in the morning breeze.

Those cloud-patterned boots on her feet would cost at least ten taels of silver on the market.

He is the third young master of the Li family in the county, and his family background, reputation, and qualifications are all impeccable.

The two stood facing each other, neither making the first move; before the fist was thrown, their breaths were already heavy.

Coach Lin stood not far away, his back straight, his face etched with deep wrinkles that looked as if they had been carved with a knife.

His hands hung at his sides, one fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

Yesterday, I argued vehemently in the court, slamming my fist on the table and giving it a cold shoulder, but in the end, all I got was this one contest.

After a match, the coaches will determine the final spot.

Instructor Lin slowly shifted his gaze to the pavilion behind him.

Although no one could be seen inside the high-eaved, vermilion-railed area, it wasn't hard to guess who was sitting there.

The county magistrate, Tian, ​​was probably drinking tea with the county constable while looking at his nephew.

The wind blowing down from the attic today was quite chilly.

The coaches remained silent, but each shifted their position slightly, their gazes becoming clearer.

Jiang Liang, however, was completely unaware.

Just treat it as a regular practice session, as always.

He stood firmly on his feet, exhaled, and let his breath sink into his dantian. His shoulders slumped slightly, his arms drooped like willow branches, and his waist twisted like a rope. He slowly unfolded his fist form.

Li Wenxuan, on the other hand, seemed rather uncomfortable.

Before even throwing a punch, my mind was already in turmoil.

He received the news early this morning; although it was only a few words on the paper, it carried great weight.

The county magistrate's uncle spoke softly, but his meaning was crystal clear.

We must win this game, and win it decisively and beautifully, without any mishaps.

Before leaving home, the family didn't even give me a chance to hesitate.

They shoved the Qi and Blood Pill into his mouth and, before he could chew it, had someone pour hot water down his throat and make him swallow it.

The medicine is good, but taking it makes me feel depressed.

Li Wenxuan stood there, his heart pounding with anxiety.

His fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly, a hint of hesitation showing in his eyes.

He doubted his own abilities, believing he might not be able to defeat Jiang Liang, who came from the countryside.

If he truly possessed such formidable strength, given his family background, why would he need to rely on "competition"?

His name should have been on that roster from yesterday.

At the instructor's command, the two began to fight.

When you have something on your mind, it's hard to keep your fist steady.

The medicinal power surged within Li Wenxuan's body, his blood and qi were boiling, and his forearms were slightly swollen, yet he still couldn't bring himself to unleash that desperate, all-or-nothing move.

In contrast, Jiang Liang's breathing was deep and long, and his muscles trembled slightly like the vibration of drum strings.

He was holding back a lot of anger.

On this trip home, my father somehow found a pot of tiger bone and he shou wu soup, which is very potent.

He drank it all in one gulp, and to this day, his vital energy is still not fully refined, and he is worried about having no outlet.

What's even more amazing is that his elder brother also refined and revised his set of boxing techniques, removing some fancy moves and adding a few clever touches.

With all that strength and those punches, he's just waiting for a worthy opponent to test his skills.

After only three or five moves, Li Wenxuan sensed something was wrong.

The moment the fist touched, the force was off; it felt as heavy as if a stone was pressing down on it.

The moves are no longer just dead punches; instead, it's as if the person has become a different person, with life in the moves and skill hidden in the life.

Li Wenxuan's heart tightened, but he dared not hold back his fist any longer, assuming that his opponent had also used some strange tricks. With this thought, he felt somewhat relieved.

Once his mind was at ease, the effects of the Qi and Blood Pill dissipated completely.

His muscles and bones swelled like drums, his blood and qi surged like a tide, and his punches suddenly became heavier, with his whole body giving their all.

The more he fought, the more his brows furrowed.

In terms of strength, the two were about the same, and even with the help of medicine, neither could gain the upper hand.

But the fighting style was clearly the same, yet it became increasingly strange as the fight progressed.

At first, I only thought it was solid and well-rounded.

But the more he fought, the more skillful the opponent's attacks became, always able to rise from his feet and deflect his attacks with his shoulders and elbows, causing him to miss his target and retreat step by step.

Watching from a distance, Coach Lin's eyelids twitched involuntarily.

As a trained martial artist, he could naturally tell that Jiang Liang's punches were much more agile than before.

Strength can be boosted by medicine, but martial arts skills cannot be forced.

This kid has really mastered the basics.

Li Wenxuan couldn't withstand more than a few moves.

Once the fight was over, he knew the situation was hopeless, so he simply bowed and retreated.

He didn't say much, but his face didn't show much resentment; instead, he seemed relieved.

I've already given it my all, so losing isn't unfair. In fact, I feel even more at ease than if I had won.

The coaches on the sidelines all frowned.

The outcome was clear-cut, and there was no room for error in the fight; there was nothing more to say.

But upstairs, Magistrate Tian is still sitting.

Just as they were wondering how to start the conversation, a warm laugh came from behind them, saving them from their predicament:

"Excellent! A hero emerges from among the young. Such a talent is truly a blessing for Longshan County!"

As soon as the voice fell, everyone turned to look.

Two figures slowly descended from the back pavilion.

Neatly dressed and with an air of composure, he was none other than the county magistrate of Longshan County and the assistant magistrate of Tian County.

The one who spoke was Magistrate Tian himself.

His smile was gentle, his face full of warm appreciation, and his words were generous with praise:

"Young and promising, with good bones and excellent boxing skills, he is expected to be selected by the state government in the future... He should train hard."

After saying that, he gently patted Jiang Liang's shoulder, showing no airs and not a trace of anger.

The coaches in the arena exchanged glances, and their previously tense shoulders and backs relaxed.

Coach Lin stood aside, his expression softening somewhat, secretly relieved.

Fortunately, the victory was decisive.

If the two were evenly matched, or if Jiang Liang had a slight advantage, who knows what the outcome would have been?

Although the county magistrate could not protect his nephew, he managed to save face.

He said a few more official words of encouragement to the youth and expectations for the future before stepping aside to make way for them.

The county magistrate then stepped forward, cleared his throat, pulled a scroll of names from his sleeve, unfolded it, and began to read aloud.

When the list of names was read out, the name "Jiang Liang" was clearly mentioned last.

The county constable then uttered a few of the old clichés about how "county constables are all pillars of society, regardless of their own status," in a loud but flat tone.

Having said all that, having sung what needed to be sung and recited what needed to be recited, he left side by side with the county magistrate.

Only after the two left did everyone in the room truly breathe a sigh of relief.

Some people laughed out loud, while others lowered their heads, their fingers silently grinding against the hem of their clothes.

Several boys who were close to Jiang Liang surrounded him, laughing and joking as they punched his shoulders, shouting, "Give me candy!"

Amidst laughter, Li Wenxuan walked over, his expression gentle, without a trace of resentment on his face, and formally cupped his hands to Jiang Liang.

Several other sons of wealthy families who had been in the first group of attendees also strolled over, nodding with smiles and saying polite things like "please take care of me in the future."

Coach Lin stood to the side, hands folded, silent, his expression gentle, like an outsider.

He only turned and went into the side room after most of the people had left.

I took out paper and pen and began to write, stroke by stroke.

The letter was sealed, tied with hemp rope, and someone was sent to the post station to deliver it to Liangjie Village.

(End of this chapter)