Jack Young stood quietly, watching as the eastern sun broke through the darkness. A refreshing breeze fluttered his clothes, but he remained as steady as a mountain. From a distance, you’d notice Jack was actually standing on top of a giant vat. No horse stance, just standing there normally—no wobbling, no shaking, perfectly balanced.
Jack thought about the hellish past fifteen days, every single day a grind, every night plotting with the martial artists how to make Dr. Tang take a nosedive. Finally, today was the day.
Outside the courtyard, John Zhao led a bunch of martial artists, all crouched and sneaking peeks this way. Jack could clearly see John Zhao outside the door, clenching his fists and mouthing, 'Go get 'em!'
The energy of the Titan Spirit Method still flowed through Jack, almost echoing his fighting spirit. Today, the energy was livelier and stronger than usual. This was the moment—Jack had to face his biggest inner demon: this giant vat, and Dr. Thomas Tang, who was standing on the rim opposite him.
Dr. Thomas Tang stood opposite Jack, looking as calm and breezy as ever. He always had that chill vibe, like he was above it all—above this era, above the world. When Jack first met him, he was fooled by that serene aura, thinking the guy must be a real gentleman, a master with impeccable manners.
Now, Jack just wanted to flip him the bird and yell, "Go to hell!"
That’s exactly what he thought, and exactly what he did.
"Oh, looks like you’re fired up as usual today. Good, that’s one of your few redeeming qualities." Dr. Thomas Tang pointed into the vat. "But the oil’s already up to your nose—still want to provoke me? If I knock you down, you might actually drown."
"Drown?" Jack switched from a single middle finger to double. "The only one drowning today is you!"
Dr. Thomas Tang sighed, as if speechless at Jack’s stubbornness. He stepped toward Jack—well, 'stepped,' since his feet never left the rim, but he moved fast. In a blink, he was right in front of Jack, swinging a straight punch.
"Come on, come on—slow down, slow down!" With Jack's hyper-focused attention, his sometimes-iffy slow-motion vision finally kicked in. He saw the path of the punch, raised his arm to block, then shot out both hands and grabbed Dr. Tang’s wrist—got him!
Dr. Tang didn’t seem surprised at all. No dramatic moves—just a shiver through his muscles and bones, and a surge of force. His fist kept coming straight for Jack.
Whoa, that’s strong! But—not unstoppable!
Jack ducked low, then shoved upward with all his strength, both hands against one arm. The punch finally got deflected skyward, and now Dr. Tang was wide open!
Perfect chance—Jack didn’t bother with a kick, just twisted sideways and rammed straight into Dr. Tang.
Jack knew Dr. Tang wouldn’t use his other hand—he never had. Jack also knew Dr. Tang wouldn’t step back—he never did. In all their past fights, Dr. Tang handled Jack with just one hand, leaving him totally lost.
Now, power surged up from Jack’s feet, through his hips, and into his shoulders, slamming toward Dr. Tang’s chest. The legendary secret move from Bajiquan, Iron Mountain Lean—well, Jack didn’t actually know it. Honestly, Jack had never really learned any proper martial arts moves, but this hit had all his strength packed into it. Even John Zhao would have to take a couple steps back if he got hit.
But when Jack’s shoulder crashed into Dr. Tang’s chest—nothing. It was like he hadn’t hit a person at all, like someone just caught the blow with their hand. The martial artists at the door saw it clearly: the moment Jack’s shoulder touched Dr. Tang’s chest and belly, Dr. Tang pulled back, absorbing all the impact.
Absorb, then release!
The rebound hit instantly shot back—Jack was blasted away, stumbling backward, almost falling off the rim. But he hooked his foot and managed to steady himself. All that vat-balancing horse stance training finally paid off.
"Oh, didn’t expect you to stay up there." Dr. Tang brushed off his chest like he was dusting away lint. "Five minutes. If you don’t fall into the oil in five minutes, I lose."
"Hmph, careful you don’t blow your own horn too hard!" Jack thumbed toward the outside. "What if I just jump off the vat right now—what’ll you do then?"
"Heh, you can try." Dr. Tang was still cool as ever, like he didn’t care if Jack tried to cheat.
"Since you said so, I won’t hold back!" Jack spun and leaned outward, ready to bail.
Dr. Tang slid over in a flash, reaching out to grab Jack’s chest, trying to pull him back. Jack immediately blocked and countered. The two traded blows, fists and palms flying, but Dr. Tang still didn’t use his second hand, and no matter what Jack did, he couldn’t get off the vat.
Outside, the martial artists whispered, "Dr. Tang’s really got skills—I’m nowhere near that level. But Mr. Young’s tactics... kinda embarrassing..." "Yeah, we’re supposed to be martial artists. How can you play so dirty?"
"Quiet!" John Zhao hissed. "Keep watching!"
Just then, things shifted again on top of the vat. Jack dodged Dr. Tang’s swipe and twisted, about to dive off in a synchronized swimming pose. But Dr. Tang shot out a hand and grabbed Jack’s collar, hooking Jack’s ankle with his foot. The two of them toppled inward, forming a perfect isosceles triangle on the vat.
"Nice!" Jack hooked Dr. Tang’s foot right back, grabbed his wrist, and thrust his hips to push Dr. Tang toward the inside of the oil vat.
But Dr. Tang just smiled, spun his foot, twisted his wrist, and in an instant, their positions flipped—Jack was inside, Dr. Tang was outside, and Jack’s wrist was locked behind his back.
"Down you go." Dr. Tang lifted his foot, ready to kick Jack off.
But Jack sprang off his feet, leaping across the vat’s diameter, flying toward the other side.
Bang! Jack grabbed the rim with both hands, finally avoiding a dip in the oil vat.
The martial artists outside let out a sigh of relief—they were all rooting for Jack now. One checked his pocket watch and shouted, "It’s been two minutes! Three more to go, hang in there!"
Jack flipped back onto the rim, striking a classic Wong Fei-hung pose, and beckoned to Dr. Tang, "Come on, keep going!"
"Interesting." Dr. Tang’s footwork was insane—he circled half the rim in a blink and was right in front of Jack, swinging for his chest. Jack blocked a few moves, but he was getting overwhelmed. Dr. Tang’s relentless attacks were fast and fierce, leaving Jack scrambling.
"Oh no, the hands are one thing, but giving up a hand definitely makes a difference. But Dr. Tang’s footwork is way too fast—Mr. Young’s probably gonna lose because of his feet!" The martial artists saw the problem. Jack’s movement on the vat couldn’t keep up with Dr. Tang, and he was getting pinned down. Defeat seemed inevitable.
"This kick—no way he’s dodging it!" Seeing Dr. Tang’s kick, the martial artists figured Jack was doomed again.
But just then—
Whoosh! Jack’s feet glided like the wind, and he slipped three steps away in an instant, dodging the kick!
"Huh? What just happened?" The martial artists rubbed their eyes. "Mr. Young’s feet didn’t move, but he suddenly slid back three steps? How’d he do that? Is there some secret trick?"
Dr. Tang glanced at the rim, then chuckled knowingly. "Heh, didn’t think you’d come up with that. You little rascal—gotta hand it to your quick reflexes."