Chapter 22: The Growth of a Rookie (Part 2)

"Damn it!" Chen Zheng cursed inwardly, his mind racing. The odds were stacked against him. With so many of them and no weapon in hand, he knew he'd be at a severe disadvantage. 

But the situation was dire, and he didn't have time to dwell on strategy. He let go of the staff, charging directly at Zhao, the square-faced man who was rushing toward him.

From their earlier exchanges, Chen Zheng had a rough idea of Zhao's abilities. The man was likely at the later stage of Ming Jin (Bright Strength), while the other two hadn't shown their full skill yet. 

Chen Zheng himself was also at the Ming Jin stage, but he knew his foundation was stronger than Zhao's. His basic skills were better, and while Zhao had more raw power, Chen Zheng's martial arts experience from his training with Huo Yuanjia and his recent practice had put him on a more solid footing.

In martial arts, the three "Jin" levels—Ming Jin, An Jin (Dark Strength), and Hua Jin (Flowing Strength)—weren't the ultimate measure of a fighter's strength. Ming Jin was just an early stage of cultivation. A Ming Jin practitioner could still defeat someone at a higher stage of An Jin, especially if the former was more skilled in technique.

Chen Zheng was aware that the comparison wasn't exactly linear, like in Go where even a 2nd-dan player might occasionally defeat a 9th-dan. However, he had no time for such abstract theories now. His immediate concern was survival.

Zhao's kick came in fast, and Chen Zheng narrowly dodged. However, his distraction allowed one of the other two men—who were positioned with hidden weapons—to throw their darts. Chen Zheng had no choice but to dodge again. In that instant, Zhao followed up with another swift kick, this time landing solidly on Chen Zheng's chest. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

It wasn't as bad as it seemed. Chen Zheng realized that the blood he spat out had been lingering as a result of an earlier injury, and now that it was out, his internal energy began to flow more smoothly.

He could feel his breathing stabilize, and his body regained some of its balance. **Now, I need to stay close to Zhao**, he thought. **I can't let him pull away again. If I do, the other two will use their hidden weapons.**

Knowing the importance of keeping his distance short, Chen Zheng pressed forward. The closer he was to Zhao, the less effective Zhao's leg techniques would be. However, Zhao was no fool, and he quickly adjusted, spinning around and using his feet in a flurry of rapid, unpredictable kicks, all aimed at Chen Zheng's torso and head. 

Chen Zheng didn't try to force a breakthrough. Instead, he relied on his basic techniques, evading and blocking with minimal movement. With his solid training, he absorbed the blows and waited for the right moment to strike back.

On the surface, it might seem like Zhao was overwhelming Chen Zheng with sheer power and speed, but in reality, Chen Zheng was carefully observing. He knew Zhao's energy was limited; it was only a matter of time before his stamina ran out.

Just as Chen Zheng predicted, Zhao's attacks started to become less precise. The once relentless barrage of kicks slowed, and his footwork became slightly less coordinated. It was the telltale sign of a Ming Jin practitioner burning through their reserves. **This is my chance.**

Zhao grew more desperate, frustrated by Chen Zheng's resilience. His movements became more aggressive, and his strikes less controlled. In that moment of haste, he overextended and left himself open. 

Chen Zheng saw his opportunity and struck with lightning speed.

When Zhao's kick came straight for his chest, Chen Zheng sidestepped and lunged forward, landing a powerful spinning punch to Zhao's ankle. 

Zhao's face turned pale as his foot gave out under the blow, his leg numb from the impact. In that instant, Chen Zheng pressed the attack, cutting through Zhao's defenses like a hot knife through butter.

Zhao attempted to retaliate with a wild punch, but Chen Zheng was ready. He used his elbow to knock Zhao's fist aside and then pivoted to land a devastating strike to his opponent's abdomen. 

Before Zhao could recover, Chen Zheng followed up with another elbow, this time smashing into Zhao's face. The blow disoriented him, and for a brief moment, Zhao's senses failed him.

Chen Zheng wasn't about to let him off that easily. With one final, fluid motion, he struck with a palm strike directly to Zhao's groin. The impact was so forceful that Zhao's eyes went wide, and his body stiffened as the pain shot through him.

Chen Zheng had heard of the phrase "egg cracked," but he never truly understood it until now. The sensation was intense, and his instincts screamed that he should be cautious. But there was no time to think.

Without pausing to check Zhao's condition, Chen Zheng followed up with a powerful sidekick to Zhao's jaw. The blow sent Zhao crashing backward, his body flying into the air like a ragdoll before hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Chen Zheng wasn't sure if Zhao was alive or just unconscious. Either way, he couldn't afford to be lenient. He had to make sure Zhao was incapacitated, and quickly.

As Zhao flew backward, Chen Zheng acted fast. He took a big step forward and grabbed Zhao by the legs, pulling them toward him. With one swift motion, he lifted Zhao off the ground and hurled him at the other two men, who were preparing to throw more hidden weapons.

The force of the throw caught them off guard. Zhao landed heavily between the two men, and the impact likely knocked the wind out of him. The other two men hesitated for a moment, shocked by the sudden change in the fight.

This was all Chen Zheng needed. With one hand raised to deflect the next dart, he turned and quickly calculated his next move. The fight had turned in his favor, but he knew the outcome wasn't guaranteed. There was still more to come.