Martial King's Retired Life

Book 15: Chapter 78



Book 15: Chapter 78

“Coward. It’s been ages, yet you still whine about it.”

Zizi wore on a straight face. “It has nothing to do with cowardice. If he wasn’t a bad guy, I wouldn’t have attacked him. If he didn’t try to kill you, I wouldn’t have accidentally killed him.”

Though neither of the two who met in Luoyang and went through a lot together wanted to admit it, they mutually considered each other close friends. The boy didn’t like to interact with outsiders, keeping either to himself or interacting with people in the pugilistic world. After he heard someone young had recently arrived in the capital and done so well for himself that there was a bounty on his head that nobody could claim, the boy thought of Zizi, so he dropped in to the capital in search of Zizi. Their friendship blossomed from an exchange of blows. When they met, they’d only exchange a few words before they started throwing hands.

“Hahaha, I like that about you, or I wouldn’t have accepted you when I’m a loner or came here to visit you.”

“I don’t need your approval.” Zizi was fond of debating with the boy who liked to aim for one’s figurative jugular. “If I can’t beat you after all the times you’ve beat me, how can I call myself a man? You won’t be able to find me once I beat you.”

The boy pulled his brows together. “Those are your words, not mine! I’ll leave now, and you can forget about seeing me ever again.”

Zizi, surprised that the boy would get angry over his casual remark, grabbed his friend. “Hey, hey, hey, why are you so petty? I was joking?” He took out an object from his sash and said, “Take a look at this.”

The owner of the volatile temperament was the type to charge head first into things over a single word or to kill someone over a single word. The object turned his sour mood around in the opposite direction. “You forged a throwing knife?! Let me see!”

He knew that Zizi’s weaponry skills were ordinary and that his only strength was the boxing discipline he had recently learnt. The throwing knife skills were the skills the boy imparted, which showed that Zizi had diligently practiced the skills despite complaining about them being violent.

Scrutinising the knife he took off Zizi, the boy expressed, “Wow, this is awesome. Where did you get it from? This is better than gold. You could buy over a dozen mansions in the capital to pay for the materials and craftsmanship. Where did you steal it from? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“What do you mean ‘steal’? Shifu gave it to me. I didn’t know it’s worth so much… That’s unlike Shifu.” Zizi rubbed his chin.

Twirling the knife around his hand and between his fingers, the boy complimented, “This really is an awesome knife. Your shifu treats you well.” The boy was a fan of bladed weapons, and he had knowledge in forging weapons, so he couldn’t get sick of playing with the knife.

Zizi was happy to see his friend like the knife. As a Prince, nobody in the palace dared to befriend him as a friend. As there was a big age gap between him and his brothers, his brothers treated him as thin air. Bai Lian and his shifu were nice to him, but there was also a big age gap between them, so he felt lonely. To have a friend around his age was something worth celebrating for him. He was always happy to see the boy; winning and losing was secondary. Being able to have verbal contests and talk about topics they were both passionate about was an experience he never had prior.

“You can have the knife.”

The boy froze for a second, then smirked. “You suffer because of your mouth. I’m not going to act polite just because you want to act generous. Mine now.” The boy spun around and took off metres away with the knife, flashing a corner of his white pearls as he showed his empty hands. “Your shifu is going to punish you for losing the knife. It’s too late to ask for it back now.”

Truthfully, the boy just wanted to see Zizi lose his composure.

Zizi nodded brightly. “Mm, take it.”

“I-I’m really going to take it.”

“Go ahead. I said I was giving it to you.”

“Y-you’re not worried about your shifu scolding you?”

“He wouldn’t mind something so trivial. Even if he does scold me, so be it. I’ll just have to bear with it. If I wasn’t aware you like throwing knives, then I can live with it, but I can’t deprive you when I do know the fact, or I wouldn’t be a friend, right?”

The boy stared at Zizi until moist crystals formed in the corners of his eyes for some reason. It was the first time Zizi saw that side of him.

“Why are you…”

The boy wiped his tears before Zizi got to finish and then walked up to Zizi. By the time they were close again, the boy looked smug again.

“Hmph, I’ve played with so many weapons that I could never finish listing! I don’t need this scrap iron. Here!” The boy threw the knife, sending it straight back into Zizi’s sash without scratching the latter, and then sat down.

Knowing his friend’s character, Zizi sat down, too.

“… I didn’t cry.”

“I know.”

“… It doesn’t count if it doesn’t leave your eyes.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see anything if anything spilt, so it doesn’t count.”

“Exactly!” As Zizi’s unofficial martial arts instructor, it would’ve been embarrassing to cry in front of his unofficial disciple. “When I cr-, didn’t cry, I was reminded of father and elder brother.”

“They’re not nice to you?”

“Not exactly. I’m the son of a concubine, so my elder brothers have always bullied me, and my father has never cared about me. My father has always forbade me from this and that. If I cried, it was my problem. If I laughed, it was my joy. I had to obey him in every facet. Nobody ever thought about sharing nice things with me.”

Zizi didn’t expect to hear his friend sound emotional when the latter seemed to look down on everyone. “It doesn’t matter if they don’t trust you well. We need to treat ourselves well.”

“You have a father and brothers who aren’t nice to you, too?”

“My father… doesn’t treat me badly. My elder brothers, however, see me as a bud that needs to be nipped, viewing me as some sort of competitor for their inheritance.”

“That’s why you often wandered about alone in Luoyang?”

Zizi went red in the face. “I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Don’t get arrogant. I didn’t use any throwing knife techniques in our fight. I’ve been improving significantly. I can take you out on first go now.”

“Try me! I’ll lay you out!” Of course, Zizi wasn’t going to actually fight when he was bruised and battered. “I’ll give you today to rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

“I knew you’d say that. If you can’t fight, have an extra day off. You aren’t much to begin with, so you’ll be useless if you cripple something.” The boy sat back down and stretched out before lying back. “Your boxing discipline is bizarre. It looks mindless, but you keep pulling out new techniques. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ll have more techniques than me at the current rate, and I’ll have to stop pulling punches.”

“So I’ll be able to beat you?”

“You wish. It’s good enough to beat some street thugs, but you’ll be begging for your life against someone truly skilled. Beggars Sect’s Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms consists of only eighteen palm techniques that are enough to obliterate your endless vault of techniques.”

“Is it really that amazing?”

“Anything part of the Three Fists Five Palms are. That said, my dad said Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms is no longer as revered as it formerly was, mainly because of how difficult it is to master it. Despite how many skilled leaders they’ve had, none of them have truly reached the apex of the discipline, bringing down its reputation. Once upon a time, it was considered on par with Shaolin’s Yijin Jing and Marrow Cleansing.”

Zizi laughed hysterically at his friend imitating his father’s tone. Once Zizi was done, the boy asserted, “One day, I’ll be accomplished in my own right. My father will no longer be able to boss me around. I want the world to respect me.”

Zizi sighed. “I just want to live a peaceful life and be able to protect my mother from harm.”

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