Chapter 79: The Duel

Since they had run into trouble and escape was impossible, it was better to face it head-on with a bit of bravado.

Liuyitiao took a small step forward, subtly shielding Gongsun Helan behind him, and said, “Helan, what are you saying? We’re brothers—of course, we share hardship together. There’s no such thing as dragging each other down. Besides, it’s just a petty thief; no need to worry too much. Leave him to me.”

Although he spoke with such confidence, Liuyitiao’s heart dared not relax for a moment. Against someone who specialized in sneak attacks, the only thing he could do was remain vigilant.

“You’re right, brother. Just a petty thief,” Gongsun Helan replied with a casual smile, but his gaze toward Liuyitiao was tinged with respect and gratitude. Gongsun Helan had lived for more than ten years, made plenty of friends—enough to form a small army. Among them were scholars, warriors, distant relatives, and neighbors. Yet few possessed the loyalty of Liuyitiao.

True friendship is revealed in adversity, especially when life is on the line. Liuyitiao was a brother worth having.

Still, though moved, Gongsun Helan had his own pride as a warrior; he was not one to stand passively behind another. So, after speaking, he stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Liuyitiao. Sharing hardship, taking blows together—that was brotherhood.

Liuyitiao nodded, saying nothing, for at that moment a new figure appeared before them.

The newcomer was short and slender, dressed in a loose, white robe, his head covered by a bamboo hat veiled with white gauze. It was impossible to tell if he was male or female; he looked mysterious, even odd.

“Well, I see you two youngsters have some skills,” came a shrill, androgynous voice, much like a eunuch’s. He looked at Liuyitiao and said, “Especially you, peasant. To catch my dart single-handedly is rare indeed. Still, even so, neither of you will escape your fate tonight.”

A eunuch? Liuyitiao and Gongsun Helan exchanged glances—this situation was getting out of hand. A eunuch assassin? Had Gongsun Wuda offended someone powerful in the palace?

And for this eunuch to appear so boldly, he must have some backing. But what? Martial skill, hidden weapons, or something else?

Liuyitiao straightened himself and, mimicking moves he’d seen on television, addressed the newcomer with a salute: “My brother and I have neither old grievances nor recent quarrels with you. Why do you seek to harm us?”

Gongsun Helan rolled his eyes—was this really the time for such formalities, brother? He took a step forward, adopting a stance ready to advance or retreat, and said to Liuyitiao, “Brother, what’s the point of talking? Let’s just rush him. He’s only a eunuch—surely he’s no match for both of us.”

Brute! Liuyitiao shot Gongsun Helan a fierce glare. Did he not see Liuyitiao was observing the assassin for weaknesses? Know your enemy and yourself, and you’ll never lose. Charging in without caution was suicide. And Gongsun Helan was the descendant of a general—how did he lack basic combat sense? He’d have to teach him someday; otherwise, he’d be cannon fodder on the battlefield.

The assassin was not angered by Gongsun Helan’s words. He nodded, looking at Liuyitiao, and said, “You’re good—really good. From the start, your actions, skill, and words are all impressive, not what one expects from a peasant. If it were someone else, you’d be hard to handle. But since it’s me, you have no chance.”

The figure in white advanced step by step toward them.

Gongsun Helan was eager to fight, while Liuyitiao frowned. This man had displayed absolute confidence from the moment he appeared, as if victory was assured. What gave him such confidence?

“In that case, I won’t hold back!” Liuyitiao spun his wrist and quickly flicked a poison dart at the man, testing him.

“Good strength, good aim. But such tricks won’t harm me,” the man replied, mimicking Liuyitiao’s movements, effortlessly pinching the dart between two fingers and tossing it to the ground. He continued advancing. “I’ve always despised those who attack from the shadows. Otherwise, those two darts earlier would have ended your lives.”

Seeing this, Liuyitiao’s eyes narrowed. This man was a true master.

Though his throw had appeared casual, the force and speed were near his limit. Yet the stranger caught it without effort.

Against such a man, there was no other way. Liuyitiao clenched his fists, rose onto his toes, and beckoned at the advancing assassin. “Since that’s how it is, let’s fight!”

“Good!” Gongsun Helan was the first to charge.

Gongsun Helan practiced spear techniques, favoring straightforward attacks. His moves were powerful and swift. A single punch could break bones or, at least, cause internal injury.

But this time, his fist struck the man’s chest squarely—and the man didn’t even flinch.

“That’s all you’ve got?” the man in white sneered. “Then you can die now.”

With a swift elbow, Gongsun Helan was sent flying three meters, blood spraying from his mouth as he collapsed, coughing up blood.

Fast! Watching the man’s strike, Liuyitiao was reminded of the villain in “Kung Fu” who could catch bullets—speed is the ultimate secret of all martial arts.

Liuyitiao, who practiced Jeet Kune Do, also pursued agility—rapid offense and defense, defeating opponents in milliseconds. But now, it seemed someone else had already achieved that goal.

“Impressive skills! I am humbled. Might the master dare to take a punch from me?” Liuyitiao had no other option; he feigned weakness, hoping to exploit the arrogance common among experts for a chance at a cheap shot.

As expected, the man in white halted, hands behind his back, and said calmly, “Since you wish to try, come ahead.”

The Golden Bell technique of Shaolin—few could shake it. The man’s confidence was absolute.

“Then forgive my impudence,” Liuyitiao said, secretly delighted. He approached the man in white, and seeing the man unmoved, drew a deep breath, and punched his chest.

Jeet Kune Do’s famed inch punch.