Chapter 62: The Duel

There was once a test conducted: when nunchaku are swung at high speed, the point of impact can generate a force of 725.76 kilograms. Human bones require only 40.8 kilograms of force to fracture. Thus, anyone struck by nunchaku is bound to be seriously injured, if not killed.

So, when Liu Yitiao’s nunchaku tip collided with Gongsun Helan’s spearhead, the spear vibrated violently, nearly flying out of Gongsun Helan’s grasp. Despite this, his hand and elbow were left numb and aching.

Gongsun Helan retreated a step, no longer daring to take Liu Yitiao lightly. As the saying goes, a true master reveals himself in a single move; with just one strike, Gongsun Helan recognized Liu Yitiao as a genuine adversary.

Yang Bofang and Gongsun Wenda nodded approvingly from the side. Both men practiced martial arts themselves, and they could see that Liu Yitiao’s blow was not only executed flawlessly, but its strength was extraordinary. Fortunately, the opponent was Gongsun Helan, famed for his powerful wrist strength; had it been someone else, the spear would likely have been knocked away.

Gongsun Wenda and Yang Bofang exchanged glances, each seeing astonishment and delight in the other’s eyes.

Gongsun Helan steadied himself and advanced once more, his wrist flexing as he shook the golden, coiled dragon spear. With a fivefold linked strike, three dazzling spear flowers attacked Liu Yitiao from above, middle, and below.

This was the Gongsun family’s ancestral linked spear technique: one spear, five consecutive attacks. When mastered, it produces five spear flowers that assault all parts of the enemy’s body. Gongsun Wuda had once relied on this very technique, winning countless battles and earning the title of Commander of the Right Third Cavalry in the old Qin Prince’s court.

For Gongsun Helan to manifest three spear flowers at the age of twenty was already a rare feat among the Gongsun clan, marking him as a prodigy. Seeing his son display the family’s secret art—three spear flowers with a single thrust—Gongsun Wenda could not help but smile. Though his son was rebellious, his skills were undeniably impressive.

Yang Bofang, witnessing Gongsun Helan’s spearwork, praised him with a smile, “Brother Wenda, Helan’s spear technique seems to have advanced yet again. At this rate, in a couple of years, he may even surpass Brother Wuda.”

“Haha, Brother Bofang, you flatter us. This boy’s only real achievement lies in his spear technique,” Gongsun Wenda replied, watching the duel intently. “But Yitiao is no less skilled. His weapon is unusual—short, sturdy, and practical rather than ornate. Each strike seems to carry a hundred pounds of force. If Helan is hit, he won’t have any strength left to resist.”

Yang Bofang continued, “Your insight is keen, Brother Wenda. Yitiao excels in agility and adaptability; his weapon is perfect for close combat. Look at his movement—nimble and lively, perfectly matched to his weapon’s strengths. He always attacks where the enemy must defend, and defends where the enemy must attack. His defense is coupled with timely counterattacks. This match between our two nephews will be hard to call.”

As he spoke, Yang Bofang felt thoroughly relieved. He had always thought Liu Mingzong withheld the family’s martial arts out of consideration for the Yang family, and felt guilty about it. Now, seeing Liu Yitiao’s prowess, the weight in his heart was finally lifted.

Liu Yitiao swung the nunchaku, his mouth emitting “da! da! dadada!” imitating Bruce Lee’s movements in the films to perfection. Chop, sweep, strike, whip, lift, pull—six basic moves transformed in rapid succession. Not only did he deflect every spear flower Gongsun Helan sent his way, he also launched occasional deadly counterattacks.

The longer the fight went on, the more strained Gongsun Helan became. He felt as if Liu Yitiao were a nimble serpent swimming through water, ready to bite back if he let his guard down. Each clash of spear and nunchaku made Gongsun Helan increasingly wary of the force transmitted through the nunchaku—if it struck him, it would peel the skin from his bones, if not kill him outright. Thus, he grew ever more cautious in his movements.

“Brother Bofang,” Gongsun Wenda said after watching for a while, “in your opinion, who will win this contest?”

Yang Bofang folded his hands behind his back, confidently surveying the combatants. “Within five exchanges, Helan will surely lose.”

“Oh? Haha… Brother Bofang, your judgment is better than ever,” Gongsun Wenda laughed heartily, unconcerned by Yang Bofang’s prediction for his son, for he too had discerned the strengths and weaknesses on display.

Indeed, just as Yang Bofang finished speaking, in the second round, Liu Yitiao seized an opening as Gongsun Helan was drawing back his spear, stepped in diagonally, and swept the nunchaku toward Gongsun Helan’s neck. Both Yang Bofang and Gongsun Wenda’s expressions changed instantly—Gongsun Helan had exhausted his move and could not dodge. If Liu Yitiao’s blow landed, half of Gongsun Helan’s life would be lost.

Gongsun Helan was terrified, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He knew better than anyone the force behind Liu Yitiao’s nunchaku; if this strike connected, he would not survive.

Here, the advantage of the nunchaku became clear. Seeing that Gongsun Helan could not evade, Liu Yitiao lunged forward, extending the sweep a few centimeters further.

One of the nunchaku’s three deadly moves: strangulation.

The nunchaku wrapped halfway around Gongsun Helan’s neck and returned to Liu Yitiao’s hand; the cord between the sticks tightened at the neck, binding Gongsun Helan. With a twist, Gongsun Helan was compelled to collapse sideways into Liu Yitiao’s arms.

Liu Yitiao looked down impassively and said, “Brother Helan, you have lost!” He released the nunchaku and laid Gongsun Helan gently on the ground.

Yang Bofang and Gongsun Wenda approached, gazing at the motionless Gongsun Helan. Yang Bofang asked, “Yitiao, what happened to Helan? Has he been seriously injured?”

“Rest assured, uncles. I held back—he won’t be harmed,” Liu Yitiao said, putting away the nunchaku. “I just strangled him lightly, blocking his circulation. He’ll feel a little unwell for a moment, but lying down will suffice. It’s nothing serious.”

“Good! That rascal has always been arrogant, thinking himself a genius. This lesson will do him good,” Gongsun Wenda said, relieved to hear his son was unharmed. He smiled at Liu Yitiao, “Yitiao, your skills are extraordinary; those wooden sticks are wielded with uncanny mastery, truly enviable. What is the name of your weapon? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Liu Yitiao handed the nunchaku to Gongsun Wenda. “It’s called nunchaku; an invention of mine. It’s no surprise you haven’t seen it before, Uncle Gongsun.” Not wishing to explain further, Liu Yitiao simply claimed the patent for himself.