34: Chapter 34 The Invitation from a Professional Boxer's Manager: A Million-Dollar Prize Match

Section 1: The Numbers on the Gilded Business Card

In the meeting room of the Public Welfare Foundation, the coffee had already gone cold. Chen Wu's fingertips brushed against a gold-embossed business card. The words "Global Combat Promotion Company" shimmered with a cold light under the sun, and the "10 Million USD" in the bottom right corner was like a red-hot branding iron, searing the eyes.

"Mr. Chen, this is no ordinary commercial match." The man in the suit sitting opposite pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, the diamond ring on his ring finger reflecting a piercing light. "This is a Peak confrontation between traditional martial arts and modern combat. The winner will receive the title of 'Global King of Fighting,' along with a ten-million-dollar prize after taxes."

The man was named Gao Jun, the manager of the boxing champion "Black Bear." Black Bear, whose real name was Carlos, was the five-time consecutive MMA heavyweight champion. He had 37 wins in his professional career with zero losses and a KO rate as high as 98%. His fighting style was as ferocious as an out-of-control tank. Last year, he broke an opponent's arm bone with a single punch, and since then, the name "Arena Butcher" had echoed throughout the fighting world.

"I have no interest in titles or prize money." Chen Wu pushed the business card back, its metal edge clinking sharply against the table. "Martial arts are not for gambling on wins and losses."

Gao Jun acted as if he hadn't seen it, opening his portable tablet to play a video. On the screen, Black Bear was punching a punching bag frantically. Every strike sent the two-hundred-pound bag crashing into the ceiling. The final uppercut punched straight through the bag, causing yellow sand to pour out like a waterfall.

"Black Bear says he's studied your livestreams." Gao Jun's voice carried a deliberate provocation. "He says your 'Qi' is a trick to fool children, and that Baji Fist wouldn't last thirty seconds in the Octagon. If you don't dare to accept the challenge, then publicly admit that traditional martial arts are just for show."

The livestream camera happened to be pointed at the meeting room, and this conversation was broadcast in real-time. The number of online viewers instantly broke 9 million, and the bullet comments were like a boiling pot of oil:

 "Ten million dollars! This must be the highest prize in the fighting world, right?"

 "Black Bear's punching power can reach 800 kilograms! Brother Wu, don't agree!"

 "What are you afraid of? Brother Wu can lift a 120-pound barbell with one finger!"

 "9.5 million online! If this fight happens, it'll definitely be more exciting than the World Cup!"

Chen Wu's gaze fell on Black Bear's fist in the video. Those hands were covered in calluses, and the knuckles were as thick as walnuts. When he punched, his shoulders drove his entire body; the explosive power of his muscles had indeed reached the human limit. However, within his "Listening Energy," that power felt as unstable as turbulent waves—coming fiercely but dissipating even faster, completely lacking the stability of "Qi."

"Where does he want to fight?" Chen Wu suddenly spoke.

Gao Jun's eyes instantly lit up. "The 15th of next month, at the Shanghai Gymnasium. In the Octagon, MMA rules, ground grappling allowed, but no Elbow Strikes to the back of the head. We've already spoken with the TV stations; it will be a global broadcast, with expected viewership exceeding one billion."

He pushed a contract forward, every page stamped with a bright red seal. "Just sign, and a three-million-dollar deposit will be credited immediately. If Mr. Chen is worried about safety, we can arrange for the highest-level medical team and even buy you fifty million dollars in accident insurance."

Chen Wu didn't look at the contract; he just looked out the window. Zhao Mengmeng was leading Lin Mo in practicing "Qi Sense" push hands. Lin Mo's Taiji Cloud Hands already had a bit of charm, the airflow from his fingertips causing the nearby mimosa plant to gently fold its leaves. This was what martial arts should look like—like spring rain nourishing things, not bloody slaughter in an arena.

"I refuse." Chen Wu stood up, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor with a piercing sound. "Please leave."

The smile on Gao Jun's face froze, then turned into a sneer. "As I thought, you don't dare? I knew it. Everything in the livestreams is special effects. Once you're actually in the Octagon, you wouldn't even be able to take one punch from Black Bear."

These words were like a needle, piercing the tranquility of the livestream. Doubts in the bullet comments suddenly multiplied:

 "No way? He really doesn't dare to fight?"

 "MMA rules don't allow the use of 'Qi,' right? Brother Wu has no advantage anymore."

 "9.8 million online! If you're scared, you're scared. Stop making excuses."

At some point, Lin Mo had appeared at the door, still clutching the book 'Commonalities Between Baji Fist and Taiji Quan.' His knuckles were white from the force of his grip. "Brother Wu, ignore him! They just want to ride your popularity!"

Chen Wu suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked back at Gao Jun. "If I win, what are the additional conditions?"

Gao Jun was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "Anything you want! As long as it's not illegal, Black Bear can agree to it!"

"I want him to publicly apologize to all traditional martial arts practitioners." Chen Wu's voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable power. "And I want him to donate the prize money to the Public Welfare Foundation to be used for promoting traditional martial arts."

Gao Jun's smile completely vanished. "Mr. Chen, don't be too greedy—"

"Either agree, or get out." Chen Wu interrupted him. The "Qi" inside his body caused the temperature in the meeting room to plummet, and the leftover liquid in the coffee cup actually condensed into tiny ice crystals.

Gao Jun shivered. Looking at the golden light swirling in the depths of Chen Wu's eyes, he suddenly remembered what Black Bear had warned him: 'That guy has a dangerous energy about him; don't force him to get serious.' He swallowed hard and picked up a pen to sign the additional terms on the contract. "I agree."

Section 2: The Shadow of the Octagon

The news spread across the globe as if it had wings. The hashtag #ChenWuVsBlackBear dominated the trending lists in 127 countries. Betting pools on combat forums already showed 1:5 odds, with the vast majority of people betting on Black Bear to win.

"Brother Wu, are you really going to fight?" Xu Hao rushed into the training hall holding his laptop. On the screen was a highlight reel of Black Bear's matches. In the footage, his opponents were either KO'd or forfeited. "This maniac uses a 'Beast Style' approach, specifically targeting joints and wounds. Last year, a fighter had three ribs broken by him!"

Chen Wu was currently guiding Lin Mo in practicing the "Elbow Strike" of Baji Fist. The boy's movements already had a bit of fierceness, though the flow of "Qi" was not yet smooth enough. "There's no difference between the Octagon and a wooden dummy." He corrected Lin Mo's posture. "It's all about using force against force; only the venue has changed."

Lin Mo was red-faced with anxiety. "But MMA allows ground grappling! Your Baji Fist is good for standing strikes, but you'll have no advantage once it goes to the ground!"

"Who said Baji Fist can't fight on the ground?" Chen Wu suddenly leaned down, his right hand gripping Lin Mo's ankle and his left hand pressing against his lower back. With a gentle exertion of force, Lin Mo felt as if his bones had been removed, and he involuntarily fell flat on the ground. Chen Wu's knee followed through to pin his back, while his elbow hovered a centimeter above the back of his neck, not touching him in the slightest. "This is called 'Earth Dragon Twist,' a ground technique of Baji Fist. it's three hundred years older than Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu."

Lying on the ground, Lin Mo could feel Chen Wu's "Qi" like a net, firmly enveloping him so that he could neither struggle nor be injured. He suddenly understood—true martial arts never had venue restrictions, just as water can both churn the seas and pierce through stone.

Lin Xue from the Bureau of Abnormal Incident Management came three times with physical fitness experts, each time bringing thick test reports. "Black Bear's Peak punching power is 892 kilograms, with a speed of 12 punches per second. Although your 'Qi' can buffer the impact, your internal organs might still be injured." She handed over a silver protective gear. "This is the latest 'Qi-Energy Protective Armor,' capable of dispersing 70% of the impact."

Chen Wu pushed the armor back. "True protection is the circulation of 'Qi'." He struck a punching bag with a "Crushing Power" strike. The moment his fist made contact, golden ripples appeared on the surface of the bag, and the indentation popped back at a speed visible to the naked eye. "It's like a spring; the harder you press it, the higher it bounces."

In a corner of the training hall, Lin Mo was secretly livestreaming with his phone. On the screen, Chen Wu was practicing ground techniques—sometimes like a spirit snake coiling around a tree, sometimes like a fierce tiger pouncing on its prey. The ferocity of Baji Fist and the softness of Taiji were perfectly fused, leaving the global audience dumbfounded:

 "Holy crap! This is Baji Fist? Why does it look like Jiu-Jitsu to me?"

 "11 million online! Brother Wu must have been practicing this in secret!"

 "If Black Bear gets caught in this move, he'll probably cry!"

 "Suddenly I feel like that ten million dollars is about to change hands, hahaha!"

A week before the match, Gao Jun suddenly delivered a handwritten letter from Black Bear. The stationery was custom-made, printed with a baring-clawed Black Bear, but the handwriting was surprisingly neat: "I've studied your 'Qi,' and it is indeed interesting. But in the Octagon, only power and speed matter. On October 15th, I will make you understand that tradition is vulnerable before the modern."

After reading the letter, Chen Wu casually handed it to Lin Mo. The boy's face turned red with anger. "He's too arrogant! Brother Wu, when the time comes, you must..."

"Be like water." Chen Wu interrupted him. The "Earth Dragon Twist" he was practicing suddenly changed form; his elbow whipped out like a lash, and the resulting wind swept a towel three meters away into the air. "Go around when you meet a rock, and surge through when you find a gap."

Section 3: The Gymnasium's Fever Pitch

On the day of the match, the area outside the Shanghai Gymnasium was packed tight. Scalpers had driven the price of the original eight-hundred-yuan tickets up to a hundred thousand. Countless more people crowded in front of the large screens in the plaza, holding up light boards that read "Martial Arts Must Win," their cheers nearly lifting the roof off the building.

In the backstage lounge, Chen Wu was practicing the Horse Stance. Lin Mo handed him his training uniform, his fingertips still trembling. "Brother Wu, there are so many reporters outside, and... and Grandpa Wang from your neighborhood. He brought his golden retriever to cheer for you."

Chen Wu smiled and took the clothes to put them on. This training uniform was designed by Zhao Mengmeng; a Taiji diagram was embroidered on the chest, a diagram of Baji Fist's "Crushing Power" exertion was on the back, and a small bronze tripod pattern was sewn onto the cuffs.

"Remember, don't be like Black Bear," Chen Wu suddenly said to Lin Mo while tying his shoelaces. "The true essence of martial arts is not to defeat your opponent, but to maintain your own 'Qi'."

The youth nodded heavily, his eyes shimmering with tears. He knew that this match was not just Chen Wu's solo battle, but a battle for the dignity of all traditional martial arts practitioners.

When Chen Wu stepped into the Octagon, the entire venue erupted in deafening cheers. Black Bear was already standing in the center of the cage. His 2.1-meter height was like an iron tower, his muscles bulging like rocks, and the Black Bear tattoo on his chest rose and fell with his breathing as if it would pounce at any moment.

"You finally dared to come." Black Bear's Chinese had a heavy accent, and his fists cracked as he clenched them. "I'm going to break your arms and show you what real fighting is."

Chen Wu didn't speak; he simply assumed a Baji Fist Horse Stance. Circular ripples suddenly appeared on the mat beneath his feet, a sign of "Qi" connecting with the ground. Black Bear's pupils contracted slightly; he could feel a strange power hidden within his opponent, like the calm before a volcanic eruption.

While the referee explained the rules, Gao Jun gave Black Bear a look from below the stage. A cold sneer curled on Black Bear's lips as he quietly made a gesture behind his back—it was his signature move for KO-ing opponents, an Elbow Strike hidden behind a hook, specifically targeting the soft flesh below the ribs.

The moment the bell rang, Black Bear charged like a tank, feinting with his left fist and aiming his right straight at Chen Wu's face. The wind from the punch whistled, ruffling the stray hairs on Chen Wu's forehead, and the entire audience held their breath.

"Too slow." Chen Wu stepped aside lightly, avoiding the punch like a reed in the wind. At the same time, he placed his right hand on Black Bear's wrist, using Taiji's "Leading into Emptiness."

Black Bear's punch missed, and his body involuntarily leaned forward. He let out a roar and swung his left arm, trying to lock Chen Wu's neck with a Chechen Choke. He had used this move 37 times and had never failed.

But this time, as soon as his arm touched Chen Wu's shoulder, he felt a surge of clever force, and his joints suddenly lost strength. Chen Wu sank with the momentum, his knee pressing against the man's waist point, while his right hand exerted force—it was the Baji Fist "Elbow Strike," but he only used thirty percent of his strength; otherwise, Black Bear's lumbar vertebrae would have surely snapped.

"Bang!"

Black Bear's massive body was actually lifted half a meter off the ground by the strike, slamming heavily onto the mat with a dull thud. The entire venue was deathly silent at first, then erupted into a mountain-shaking roar of cheers.

"Round one, 1 minute and 23 seconds! Chen Wu has taken down Black Bear!" the commentator's voice trembled. "This is the first time in Black Bear's professional career that he has been knocked down!"

Black Bear lay on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. He could feel his waist point as if it had been seared by a branding iron, a warm power spreading along his spine, making his whole body go soft. It wasn't pain, but a more terrifying sensation—his strength felt as if it had fallen into a bottomless pit, and he couldn't muster any force.

"What kind of trick are you playing?" Black Bear scrambled up, his eyes bloodshot like an infuriated beast.

Chen Wu didn't answer; he simply assumed the Horse Stance once more. Sunlight streamed through the gymnasium's dome onto him, and the Taiji diagram on his training uniform shimmered with a faint golden light.

The second round began, and Black Bear changed his tactics. He no longer aimed for a KO but wanted to use ground grappling to drain Chen Wu's stamina. He intentionally left an opening to lure Chen Wu into attacking, then suddenly grabbed his opponent's leg, trying to drag him to the ground.

This was his specialty, the "Python Squeeze," a move he had used to make 17 opponents tap out.

But just as his arms wrapped around Chen Wu's waist, he suddenly felt a prickling pain in his fingertips. A layer of golden "Qi" film actually appeared on the surface of Chen Wu's body, like a coating of lubricant, making it impossible to lock tight no matter how much force he used.

"This is..." Before Black Bear could react, he felt a numbness in his abdomen. Chen Wu's knee had pressed there at some point; the force wasn't great, but it was like a needle, accurately piercing his Qihai point.

Intense pain instantly spread throughout his body. Black Bear's muscles suddenly twitched uncontrollably, and his arms involuntarily loosened. Chen Wu rose with the momentum, grabbed the back of the man's collar with his right hand, supported his knee with his left, and threw him toward the edge of the cage like a sack of grain.

"Bang!"

Black Bear's back slammed into the chain-link fence with a loud crash, shaking the entire Octagon. His mouth was open, but he couldn't make a sound; the power within him was like a punctured balloon, draining away bit by bit.

Chen Wu stood before him, making no further move to attack, and simply said calmly, "Your strength is great, but it has no roots. You are like a kite with a broken string."

The entire audience stood up, their applause and cheers nearly lifting the roof. Lin Mo held up a book titled Commonalities Between Baji Fist and Taiji Quan below the stage, his face covered in tears. Grandpa Wang, holding his golden retriever, waved vigorously at Chen Wu in the cage, the dog's tail wagging like a flower.

Black Bear looked at the golden light flowing over Chen Wu and suddenly understood why he had never won—he sought to destroy his opponent, while the other sought to master power. This wasn't a gap in technique; it was a chasm in Realm.

When the referee's countdown ended, Black Bear did not stand up. He gave Chen Wu a thumbs-up and said with all his strength, "I lost... Traditional martial arts are very powerful."

Section 4: The Legacy Behind the Prize Money

At the award ceremony, Gao Jun handed over the check with a pale face. The figure of ten million US dollars shimmered coldly under the lights, but no one paid attention to it anymore. The reporters' lenses were all focused on Chen Wu and Black Bear shaking hands. The number of people watching the global livestream surpassed 1.5 billion, setting a new record for sports events.

"The prize money will be donated as agreed." Chen Wu took the check and handed it to Lin Xue. "Please have the Bureau of Abnormal Incident Management oversee the establishment of the Traditional Martial Arts Protection Fund."

Black Bear suddenly spoke up: "Can I... learn your 'Qi'?"

The whole venue was stunned for a moment, then erupted in good-natured laughter. Chen Wu looked at this once-arrogant boxing king and suddenly smiled. "Come to the Public Welfare Foundation tomorrow. We'll start from the Horse Stance."

When the news reached the internet, the hashtag #Black Bear Becomes a Disciple# quickly trended. A netizen photoshopped a picture showing Black Bear in a Taiji uniform doing the Horse Stance while Chen Wu stood beside him with a ruler. The caption read: "On the Re-education of a Fighting Champion."

Lin Mo started a livestream in the martial arts hall, teaching everyone the "Leading into Emptiness" move that Chen Wu used in the match. The number of online viewers surpassed five million, many of whom were MMA fighters. The bullet chat was filled with comments like "Details, please" and "This is amazing!"

Grandpa Wang led the elderly men and women of the neighborhood in practicing the basic Stance Training taught by Chen Wu every morning in the garden. Even the golden retriever followed along, bending its front legs and straightening its back legs, learning with great poise and becoming an internet celebrity in the neighborhood.

A month later, the Public Welfare Foundation's Traditional Martial Arts Protection Fund received its first donation—delivered personally by Black Bear. Besides the prize money, he also brought his championship gold belt. "This thing should belong to someone who truly understands martial arts," he said while practicing the Horse Stance. His posture was as perfect as a textbook example, and the sweat on his forehead shimmered with a faint golden light.

Chen Wu stood before the bronze tripod, watching Lin Mo lead the students in practice. The youth was already able to blend Taiji's Neutralizing Power and Baji's Emitting Power quite well; his punch's wind held both the softness of water and the hardness of steel.

"Brother Wu, a System notification!" Xu Hao ran over holding a tablet. The screen showed that the Global Martial Arts Enlightenment Progress had reached 100%. "The ultimate reward is unlocked! It's the General Principles of Martial Arts!"

Chen Wu took the tablet, and the "Qi" from his fingertips made the screen glow with a soft light. The General Principles of Martial Arts contained only one sentence: "The Dao is within oneself, not elsewhere; Qi follows the heart, and power is born from the soul."

Sunlight streamed through the courtyard, shining on everyone. The "Qi" of the Awakeners wove into a net under the sun, like a pair of giant wings, carrying the seeds of traditional martial arts to even more distant places.

The final frame of the livestream showed Lin Mo leading the students in a salute. They wore uniform training clothes with the Taiji diagram on the chest and the Baji Fist emblem on the back, bowing deeply to the camera. In the bullet chat, languages from different countries merged into the same sentence:

"Martial arts are immortal."

Chen Wu knew that this million-dollar prize match was never about winning or losing. It was just as Black Bear had said at the end: "The important thing isn't to prove who is more powerful, but to let everyone know that whether it's traditional or modern, the original intention of pursuing strength is the same."

And this original intention was the thing most worthy of becoming a Legacy.