What Kind of Heretical Martial Arts Is This The Joy Union Sect (Gift King, Bonus Chapter 3/5)

Lin Yu neither dodged nor underestimated his opponent.

Instead, as Xiao Shuai’s palm strike was about to land on his shoulder, he seized the man’s wrist mid-motion.

The principle of action and reaction held true.

The force Xiao Shuai had put into his strike was now rebounding entirely onto his own wrist the moment it was forcibly halted.

As for Lin Yu? He felt nothing at all.

Ever since his body had undergone enhancement, layered with various buffs,

the only time he’d truly fought was against that bare-chested brute at the community hospital—

and even that had been a sneak attack, with the man completely unaware.

Opportunities like this, where he could go toe-to-toe with a "high-caliber adult fighter," would be rare in the future.

Might as well test himself now.

Just how tough had he become?

Xingyiquan.

Though its movements were simple and unadorned, its strikes direct and straightforward,

the art relied on stable stances and tightly controlled techniques to remain unstoppable.

With Xiao Shuai’s wrist effortlessly immobilized,

the man had no time to process his shock.

A snapping kick followed, aimed straight at Lin Yu’s abdomen—

swift, fierce, and packed with power.

As for Lin Yu?

Tch.

Still too slow.

It was like watching a split-screen replay in slow motion.

His enhanced dynamic vision wasn’t just a minor upgrade.

This time, Lin Yu didn’t just block.

He countered with the Bone-Softening Fist, striking a precise pressure point on Xiao Shuai’s leg.

The move seemed gentle, almost weightless,

yet it cleanly neutralized the kick and allowed Lin Yu to pivot two steps back, creating distance.

Xiao Shuai, still oblivious to the severity of the situation,

only realized something was wrong when he tried to steady himself—

Thud!

The sound of knees hitting the floor echoed sharply through the gym.

Then, before he could react, a shadow loomed over him.

"My apologies, Brother Xiao Shuai."

Lin Yu’s strength erupted as he gripped the man’s shoulders,

sending the "proposing" fighter spinning mid-air like a "tiny ballerina."

Round and round he went…

Bam!

Well, damn.

What a coincidence.

Xiao Shuai landed perfectly—kneeling right in front of Zheng Zhihua’s chair.

Lin Yu didn’t press the attack.

Now was the time for what?

For the audience to process what just happened!

Honestly, did no one understand showmanship?

Everything had unfolded too quickly.

The "competitors," the "unrivaled masters," the "hype squad," even the "home-team cheerleaders" were still frozen in shock.

"Coach Xiao Shuai… he just kneeled?"

Only when one trainee finally spoke did the room erupt.

"Wasn’t Coach Xiao Shuai a martial arts champion in Pingchuan? How… how did he just get folded like that?"

"I thought the young master was just throwing a tantrum, but he’s the real deal!"

"Who is this guy? And if we’re comparing looks, he’s definitely winning there too."

"Is that the point?! The point is—what the hell just happened? Why did he suddenly kneel?!"

Amid the chaos, from the corner where the "support squad" stood,

Xia Yiwei thrust a triumphant finger into the air.

"That’s my shifu for you! Onto the next one!"

"Maomao, still think you’re clean today?"

"Now tell me—can Shifu win your hand in a martial courtship or not?"

Maomao’s delicate fingers twitched as she pinched her own slender arm,

her face a portrait of disbelief.

Wasn’t their line of work supposed to be "sedentary and frail"?

Since when did the rules stop applying to ZerO?

Meanwhile, in the rest area,

Old Zheng’s face darkened as he helped Xiao Shuai up.

"I—I can’t stand, Elder Zheng."

"He just tapped my leg… or did he? I’m not even sure how many times."

"My whole leg’s numb, like it’s not even there!"

Xiao Shuai wobbled on one foot, clinging to the back of Zheng’s chair.

When Zheng Zhihua examined him,

he found no broken bones or torn tendons.

"What kind of demonic technique is this?"

"Which school does it belong to? Never heard of anything like this, north or south!"

Lin Yu caught the old man’s grumbling loud and clear.

Which school?

The Joyous Sect, obviously.

Of course you’ve never heard of it.

But if anyone was feeling the pressure now,

it was the four remaining fighters on the floor—

especially the esteemed Guanzhang Xia.

Her mind was replaying her sister’s earlier joke on loop:

"My shifu knows the Bone-Softening Palm!"

"He’ll beat you dead! Dead!"

Was there really such a thing in Chinese martial arts?

Impossible!

Since when was The Deer and the Cauldron a documentary?!

And yet…

Xiao Shuai’s reaction did fit the description.

Only now did Xia Xiashan accept the truth:

Her little sister hadn’t been fooling around.

She’d somehow scouted a monster of a fighter.

Lang sucked in a breath. "Damn, we’ve hit a wall. Maybe… I should give it a shot?"

Little Mei blinked. "Turns out Master Lin wasn’t bluffing. He really can take all five of us."

Da Zhuang grimaced. "With so many students watching… maybe the three of us should rush him together? Getting picked off one by one would be humiliating."

In unison: "Agreed. All at once."

Lin Yu grinned. "Perfect timing."

...

Two minutes later.

Round and round they went…

Round and round…

Circles within circles...

The chair back was too small, no longer enough to grip.

Zheng Zhihua: "..."

Little Mei: "Stop crowding me, my legs are going weak."

Da Zhuang: "Little Mei, did he hit you anywhere else?"

Lang: "This is so damn embarrassing... kinda miss my mom now."

Xiao Shuai: "The students are still hyped, cheering for the headmaster."

Zheng Zhihua, restless as if sitting on needles, couldn’t even wait through the length of a sailor’s song. He stood up, hands clasped behind his back.

"Damn it, grass!"

The four martial arts instructors instantly straightened with reverence: "!!!"

Could it be...?

After years of staying out of action, the old master Zheng was about to step into the fray?

The head coach was freaking warming up!

The four instructors exchanged glances: As the saying goes, ginger gets spicier with age...

"Shit, I think I left the window open."

And with that, he turned and walked away, as if resolved to something.

The four instructors: "...Our eyes."

Old Zheng had no choice—he had to leave.

If he stayed any longer, he’d have to watch his grandniece get beaten into a mummy!

Meanwhile, in the arena...

"Headmaster, you got this!"

"Headmaster, you got this!"

"..."

The students kept cheering for their headmaster, unaware.

Unbeknownst to them, Xia Xiashan had already lost feeling in one arm.

Yet despite this, her attacks remained fierce, unyielding.

Bursting fists, splitting fists, drilling fists...

Dragon form, tiger form, sparrowhawk form...

Every move precise, every stance controlled.

Elbows tight to ribs, hands guarding the heart.

A flawless display of a seasoned fighter’s combat prowess.

But today, she had met a cheater.

Tendons tightened three inches, legs rooted, fists heavy—Yangling Spring!

Lin Yu struck, and the same scene played out again like a copy-paste.

"Thud!"

Xia Xiashan dropped to one knee before Lin Yu, as if proposing.

"So... this is how they felt..."

Her pupils shrank in panic.

Then—

"Crack... crack..."

Lin Yu flexed his fingers, deliberately mimicking the motion of sliding on a ring.

"Xiashan-jie, still feeling up for a 'DO' today?"

"Too bad... today’s answer is 'I DON’T'!"

With that, he pinched his thumb against his middle fingernail—

"Hah~"

Infusing it with soul.

Then—

Aimed it straight at Xia Xiashan’s forehead, point-blank.