Sun Shi stood frozen in place, his eyes fixed on the battleground before him. He had spent a lifetime mastering every martial art known to man, but Chi—Chi was a different beast entirely. It wasn't just about the body. It was about the soul. The essence. The breath of heaven and earth flowing within.
His hands trembled.
Is this fear? he wondered. No… this is excitement. Unfamiliar… but exhilarating.
Instructor Li noticed the quiver in his student's fingers. "You all right, kid?" he asked, stepping closer.
Sun Shi didn't respond.
Li leaned in and added, "It's alright. Those are the higher sects. Of course they'd be strong—"
But he stopped mid-sentence. Sun Shi had turned to him, his lips stretching into a wide, manic grin. His eyes gleamed with wild anticipation, a fire behind them that was anything but scared.
Instructor Li stepped back instinctively. "I… I guess I was worried over nothing…"
The crowd roared as the announcer stepped into the center of the arena. "Now for the second round! Sun Shi of the Shaolin Sect… versus Huo Zhen of the Iron Knuckle Sect!"
Cheers erupted from the stands. From the higher sect pavilions, mocking laughter rippled.
Huo Zhen stepped forward, grinning arrogantly, arms crossed. "Didn't know the Shaolin started recruiting toddlers. You sure you're not lost, little man?" He cracked his knuckles. The Iron Knuckle Sect disciples behind him laughed in unison.
Sun Shi stood still, his face calm. Unbothered. Unshaken.
Let them laugh, he thought. Let them mock. The moment their pride blinds them… I'll strike.
"BEGIN!"
Huo Zhen sprinted forward like a rampaging beast. "Iron Knuckle: Boulder Charge!"
His fists gleamed with metallic Chi, muscles bulging unnaturally as he launched himself at Sun Shi like a living battering ram. The ground cracked beneath each step.
Sun Shi's body moved like water. He turned at just the right angle, letting Huo Zhen brush past him harmlessly.
"What's wrong? Running already?!" Huo Zhen barked, turning on his heel.
Still no response.
"Not much of a talker, huh?! Fine! Let's turn up the pressure!"
He leapt into the air, his Chi flaring in a bright, molten hue. "Iron Knuckle: Flying Fortress!"
He came crashing down from above like a meteor, both fists pointed downward, roaring with energy.
But Sun Shi's body wobbled unnaturally. He staggered left—then right—like he was about to fall, yet always avoided impact by a hair's breadth.
"Drunken Fist Style…" someone whispered in the crowd.
Huo Zhen growled. He charged again, fists swinging in wild arcs, each blow strong enough to shatter bone. But Sun Shi twisted, ducked, weaved through them like wind slipping through the cracks of a wall.
He's fast, Sun Shi thought, but too emotional. Too loud. He fights with anger. But I… I fight with balance.
"STAND STILL!" Huo Zhen shouted. "You coward! You're not fighting—you're dancing!"
The crowd leaned in as the fight continued—a deadly ballet of furious charges and effortless dodges. Dust kicked up. Cracks spread across the arena floor. And yet, no blow landed on Sun Shi.
Minutes passed. Huo Zhen was panting, sweat pouring down his face. His eyes were bloodshot.
"ENOUGH!" he roared. "FLYING FORTRESS!!"
He gathered his Chi once more. The ground trembled beneath him as his energy condensed into his core and then shot through his veins like fire. With a deafening yell, he launched himself at Sun Shi, faster and stronger than ever before.
This is it, Sun Shi told himself. No more running.
He closed his eyes.
Breathe.
His heartbeat slowed. The world around him dimmed. All noise vanished—except the steady hum of energy within his core.
Chi… Yin… Yang…
His Chi stirred. It spiraled—first slowly, then rapidly. Black and white energy swirled together like ink in water.
His left hand pulsed cold. Yin.
His right hand burned hot. Yang.
The world moved in slow motion now. Huo Zhen's fists approached, wrapped in fury, ignorance, and raw power.
Sun Shi's body shifted. Calm. Controlled.
His arms moved in a smooth, circular motion—Tai Chi energy flow.
His feet planted. His body lowered.
Then—an explosion of force from within.
He snapped his palm forward.
"Shi."
It was a whisper. Barely audible. But it carried the weight of mountains.
His palm collided with Huo Zhen's chest.
A shockwave burst outward—black and white Chi erupting like a spiral storm. The energy twisted, cracked the air itself, and lifted Huo Zhen off his feet.
Time resumed.
The spectators blinked.
Huo Zhen flew across the arena like a ragdoll, his body flipping three times midair before crashing hard against the stone wall. He slumped to the ground, unmoving.
Silence.
Then—gasps.
The sect masters stood from their seats. Even the proud elites of the Falling Lotus Sect narrowed their eyes in intrigue.
"What was that technique?" one whispered.
"Was that… dual Chi?" another muttered.
Instructor Li exhaled slowly, both hands gripping the railing. "He really… did it."
"WINNER: SUN SHI OF THE SHAOLIN SECT!"
The Shaolin disciples erupted in cheers, their chants echoing throughout the coliseum.
Sun Shi turned away from the unconscious Huo Zhen. He didn't bow. He didn't celebrate.
He simply walked back to his corner, arms lowered, breathing steady.
I'm not here to prove I'm better, he thought. I'm here… to remember who I am.
And somewhere in the shadows of the arena, a masked figure watched silently.
"Interesting," they whispered. "Very interesting…"