The leader of the Dockside Gang, Zhang Cheng, deliberately feigned ignorance, twisting cause and effect, disregarding the facts, and provoking trouble with ulterior motives. What he had not expected was that Zeng Qiang would respond with eloquence—words flowing like a surging river, sharp and unimpeded, arguments clear and well-ordered. He pressed Zhang Cheng so relentlessly that the Dockside Gang leader was driven into fury and humiliation. Even Zeng Yong, the gang leader himself, could not help but look at his own son with renewed admiration for his verbal prowess.
Truly, when justice stands clear beneath heaven, demons dare not run rampant.
Yet how could outsiders have known that Zeng Qiang's eloquence was not his own alone? In truth, Liu Yun, without moving her lips, transmitted her words through profound inner energy, secretly guiding Zeng Qiang through soundless transmission. Thus empowered, Zeng Qiang was able to unleash his verbal assault, engaging Zhang Cheng in a battle of tongues before blades were ever drawn. By the end of this exchange, Zhang Cheng was left speechless, enraged beyond restraint. There was no need to say more—Zeng Qiang had won a resounding victory, though none among the gathered heroes perceived the truth behind it.
Zhang Cheng had long harbored ambitions of rising above all others. In years past, he had supported the Yan forces, seeking to monopolize the profits of the canal trade, only to fail at the last moment. Yet his treacherous heart had never been extinguished. Now he had returned, determined to seize the position of supreme leader and command all the canal gangs.
Rage boiling over, Zhang Cheng could no longer restrain himself. He sprang forward in an instant—so quick that "no sooner said than done"—leaping into the air and striking directly for Zeng Qiang's clavicle. The claw strike flashed like lightning. In that same instant, Zeng Qiang countered, unleashing eight rapid claw strikes in a single breath, each aimed at a vital point. Their movements were swift as startled rabbits and darting birds.
Zhang Cheng shouted, "Hypocrite! What kind of hero are you?"
Palms cut through the air with roaring force as he launched a fierce assault.
Zeng Qiang replied coldly, "Blind to reason, forcing false arguments!"
He thrust both palms forward, gusts of force erupting. Zhang Cheng vaulted upward, striking from above. Zeng Qiang was startled and hastily retreated, blocking with his left palm while his right hand transformed its technique mid-motion. The two exchanged blows, each attacking while defending, narrowly avoiding danger. The duel was breathtaking to behold, leaving the assembled heroes feeling their journey had been more than worthwhile. The five canal gangs' elites clashed in a grand struggle for supremacy—spectacle upon spectacle. Thunderous applause erupted from the crowd.
Zeng Qiang suddenly withdrew his right arm and slipped between Zhang Cheng's palms. A sharp pa! rang out. Zhang Cheng staggered back three steps, while Zeng Qiang himself swayed slightly. Zeng Qiang had struck toward Zhang Cheng's left side; Zhang Cheng barely managed to flip his wrist and raise his palm. Their palms met—each exchanging a single blow.
Zeng Qiang halted his force; Zhang Cheng steadied himself, momentarily stunned. He seemed to realize that his opponent had deliberately held back, as if waiting for him to concede. That realization ignited his temper. With a furious shout, Zhang Cheng lunged forward, arms extending and retracting in rapid succession, striking twice toward Zeng Qiang's chest and abdomen.
"The fight isn't over yet!" he roared. "Come on!"
Zeng Qiang answered calmly, "A match should stop at the point of contact."
Even as he spoke, the two exchanged another palm strike, this time each stepping back one pace. Their strength proved evenly matched. Zhang Cheng wasted no words and attacked again, every move now targeting vital points. After another fifty exchanges, his face twisted into a feral snarl as he unleashed the move "Dragon's Roar of Fury," both palms blasting forward with terrifying force.
Having already tested him, Zeng Qiang knew Zhang Cheng's inner power was no weaker than his own. Zhang Cheng's style was now reckless and brutal—crashing, smashing, and forcing the issue with sheer ferocity. Zeng Qiang thought to himself that he had only come to make an appearance at the heroes' gathering; he had no desire to contend for supreme leadership. As long as Zhang Cheng did not become the chief, why should he risk his life? With the Phoenix Gang's Qiu Feng and the Xuzhou Gang's Xu Li still to come, he chose instead to fight defensively, moving lightly and avoiding the brunt of Zhang Cheng's assaults.
"Fight properly!" Zhang Cheng shouted, lunging forward. His left hand jabbed toward Zeng Qiang's chest. Zeng Qiang traced arcs with both palms, forming a circular guard—blocking left, intercepting right. After another dozen exchanges, Zeng Qiang suddenly stamped his feet and shot forward, launching a flurry of palm strikes. Zhang Cheng roared like a tiger and advanced head-on, meeting the attack without retreat. His approach was utterly contrary to reason—an all-out, life-risking style.
Zeng Qiang was inwardly alarmed. This man must be obsessed with becoming supreme leader—he's lost his mind.
Their fists and legs clashed. Zhang Cheng suddenly flipped backward, unleashing a chain of flying kicks. Before the kicks even landed, the force of the wind struck Zeng Qiang's face. The power in Zhang Cheng's waist and legs was extraordinary. Zeng Qiang shouted and raised both palms like shields. Though his reaction was swift, the relentless kicks still forced him back again and again.
Zhang Cheng pressed the attack with two more rapid strikes, ferocious and unrelenting. Zeng Qiang was driven into chaos, forced to thrust both palms forward. A thunderous bang! echoed. This time, his strength fell short. He staggered backward, blood surging and vision swimming.
At last, he called out loudly, "Gang Leader Zhang has won. Zeng concedes defeat!"
After a fierce battle, victory was decided. Cheers erupted like thunder. Someone in the crowd—likely a disciple of the Dockside Gang or the Xingwu Gang—shouted:
"Victory decides the leader! Victory decides the leader! Whoever has the strongest martial arts becomes chief!"
Zhang Cheng, intoxicated with triumph, was beside himself with joy. He surveyed the crowd with arrogant pride. The gathered heroes, witnessing his suicidal fighting style, could not help but feel uneasy. Zeng Qiang's retreat was less a defeat than a wise choice—avoiding a mad dog and preserving himself.
At this moment, Qiu Feng, leader of the Phoenix Gang, exchanged a glance with Xu Li of the Xuzhou Gang. Xu Li rose and strode forward.
"Gang Leader Zhang's martial skill is exceptional," Xu Li said. "Xu Li of the Xuzhou Gang requests instruction."
Just then, another figure leapt into the arena. It was He Yong, second-in-command of the Xingwu Gang. He cupped his fists toward the crowd and declared loudly:
"It is well known in the martial world that Leader Xu Li is a man of chivalry and renown. Gang Leader Zhang has clearly expended great energy in his last battle—why should Leader Xu take advantage of that? Why not allow He Yong to first exchange a few moves with Leader Xu?"