Left Fist Deals High Damage, Right Fist Deals Higher Damage

Ding!

Taekwondo — even though the word "fist" is in its name — in competitive taekwondo, only straight punches are allowed.

Hooks, uppercuts, jabs from the side? None of that exists.

Use one, and sorry, that's a foul.

Sure, some schools teach regular form-based fist techniques mixed in here and there.

But at the end of the day, the core of taekwondo has always been in the legs.

Over at the boxing club, it's all fists. Use a leg, and that's a foul.

The two rule sets couldn't clash more violently.

If this exhibition match followed either side's rules, the other side would be crippled — half their skills gone.

So the rules had to be modified.

The supervising teacher, acting as referee, walked to the center of the gym with a microphone and cleared his throat.

"To let both sides fully use their techniques, this match will follow freestyle combat rules. No ground pursuit after a knockdown, but normal attacks and ground strikes are allowed. Any objections?"

Li Yongkang and Chen Yixuan exchanged looks and both shook their heads.

"No."

"Good. Each match has three rounds, each round three minutes. If there's no KO by the end of three rounds, victory is decided by score."

Neither had any objections.

The teacher stepped back, swung his arm down sharply, and shouted:

"Begin!"

The sidelines went quiet at once. Everyone's eyes locked onto the center.

Interestingly enough, neither fighter rushed forward after the bell.

Both wore gloves and protective gear.

Li Yongkang stood on his side, hands raised in front of his chest, breathing steady. He stared at Chen Yixuan across from him, running through his strategy quickly in his mind.

Black belt, third dan. He'd trained for years, and he had absolute confidence in his kicks.

Boxing club? They only posed a threat up close. Keep the distance under control, and the match would stay on his terms.

Chen Yixuan started moving.

His feet danced lightly and rapidly, body leaning slightly forward, center of gravity low.

It was the standard footwork of a boxer — shifting position constantly to create angles while avoiding the opponent's attacks.

But there was a problem.

He seemed to have forgotten that today's rules allowed kicks.

Li Yongkang shuffled closer, feinting a couple of times.

Chen Yixuan's attention was focused entirely on the other guy's fists. He covered both sides of his head, ready to close in and brawl.

Seeing that defensive posture, Li Yongkang's mouth twitched.

Right now.

He lunged forward, swung his right leg in a low arc — not high, just striking the outside of the thigh.

Smack!

The surface of his leg landed cleanly on Chen Yixuan's left leg.

Chen Yixuan took the low kick and stumbled a step to the right, nearly losing his balance.

He reacted quickly. The first thing he did after steadying himself was to throw punches in return.

A boxer's instinct — get hit, then push forward.

But before he could get his fists out, Li Yongkang had already closed in and hammered two quick punches to his chest.

Thud! Thud!

The fists slammed against the protective gear with a dull sound.

A few people from the taekwondo club cheered, but Lin Mo sat there, his brow slightly furrowed.

Something wasn't right.

Logically, at that distance and angle, Li Yongkang could have gone straight for the head.

When Chen Yixuan lost his balance, his head was wide open.

But Li Yongkang aimed for the chest.

Simple reason: in competitive taekwondo, the scoring area for punches is the torso.

After all those years competing, Li Yongkang's body reacted faster than his brain. He subconsciously went for the torso.

Both punches hit the armor. The effect was just about zero.

Chen Yixuan used the gap to take two steps back, reestablishing distance and catching his breath.

Sweat had broken out on his forehead. That kick had rattled him. When he trained boxing, he never had to defend against kicks.

Plus his legs had no armor. That one strike from Li Yongkang still left his thigh throbbing.

Lin Mo stood up.

"Li Yongkang!"

His voice cut through the noisy cheers and reached the gym floor clearly.

"This isn't a taekwondo match. Don't box yourself in with competitive rules. Aim for the head too. Nothing in the rules stops you — use whatever you've got."

The boxing club people's faces darkened.

A spectator coaching from the sidelines?

But the supervising teacher didn't say anything. Sideline coaching wasn't against the rules.

And it wasn't just Li Yongkang who could hear it — Chen Yixuan could too. It benefited both of them, really.

Li Yongkang paused for a second, then snapped out of it.

Right.

If those two punches had landed on the face, Chen Yixuan might not even be standing right now.

He was too used to competitive mode. His body had automatically avoided head strikes.

This mindset needed to change.

Chen Yixuan wasn't stupid either.

After eating that kick, he realized the biggest threat wasn't the fists — it was the leg.

What does a boxer fear? Getting suppressed at mid-to-long range by kicks, unable to even get close.

So his strategy was crystal clear.

Close the distance!

As long as he got in tight, the leg couldn't come up.

Chen Yixuan's footwork suddenly sped up. He slid into the inside line with a quick step, throwing three straight jabs — all aimed at Li Yongkang's face.

Not testing the waters. All-out attacks.

Li Yongkang blocked two punches with his arms, and the third grazed past his ear, still catching the headgear.

A boxer's punches definitely hit harder than a taekwondo fighter's. No debate there — that's all they train day in and day out.

Chen Yixuan held the distance, throwing punch after punch, refusing to let Li Yongkang pull back.

Close combat is a boxer's home turf.

People from the boxing club started shouting: "Hit him! Aim for the face!"

The taekwondo members grew tense, yelling at the ring: "Get away! Don't get tangled up!"

Chen Yixuan suppressed Li Yongkang with four or five punches. The protective gear absorbed most of the force, but two hits landed on his cheeks. His left cheekbone started to burn.

If this kept up, he'd lose the round.

But just as Chen Yixuan threw another punch, Li Yongkang shoved both hands forward hard, pushing him back half a step.

Just half a step.

That was enough.

Li Yongkang seemed to have suddenly figured something out. His punching style completely changed.

No more of those stiff, competitive-taekwondo straight punches. He cut loose.

Half a step was too tight for a kick, but he could still use his fists!

Straight punch to open, hook punch to follow, and a right uppercut to finish it off.

Left punch for damage, right punch for power.

Three punches strung together, fast and vicious.

That last one, the uppercut, landed square on Chen Yixuan's headguard.

Chen Yixuan's head snapped to the right, his vision blurred, his legs stopped obeying commands, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

He never expected Li Yongkang's fists to pack that much power.

The gym fell dead silent.

Standing on the sidelines, Lin Mo couldn't help but smile.

An Yuexin looked up at him.

"Master Mo, what's so funny?"

"The truth is, Li Yongkang's punches have always been pretty strong. Everyone just assumes he's only good at kicking."