What had he truly understood from the Martial God Map?
Zhao Douan vaguely comprehended.
He only remembered standing at the summit, bathed in the glow of the sunrise, mimicking the "Founder" Emperor's boxing set.
During this, he imagined swallowing the morning glow into his body, and indeed, a blurred flame seemed to radiate from his body.
Accompanying this was the rising dominance in his heart.
Having just witnessed his family being oppressed, he channeled his qi throughout his body, and the sedimented "intent" spread like a gentle stream through his meridians.
At this moment, as Zhao Douan threw a punch, he clearly felt rounds of turbulent whirlwinds rushing into his arm, converging at his fist.
On his fair and well-proportioned hand bones, a faint glow of sunrise seemed to appear, but it was so subtle that it was hidden in the sunlight and hard to distinguish.
The members of the Zhao family in the courtyard had not expected Zhao Douan to suddenly strike, and they cried out instinctively, trying to stop him.
Even You Jinhua and Zhao Pan, who were hugging each other and sitting on the ground, changed their expressions.
Indeed, although the original owner was a "mortal of Low Grade," his real martial strength was worrying.
Especially over the past year, without indulging in debauchery, hedonism had thoroughly corrupted him.
This contrasted starkly with the fierce, forbidding aura of Zhang Changji, a Martial Artist from the Ministry of War, who was clearly not to be trifled with.
"Are you seeking death?"
Zhang Changji had sparred with Zhao Douan before and knew his real ability.
Not to mention the gap in their martial skills, he also firmly suppressed Duan in realm.
At this moment, seeing Duan dare to throw a punch, Zhang felt a surge of rage, and his muscles rippled like water waves while his clothes fluttered.
Zhang Changji stepped forward, and the blue bricks under his feet cracked with a snap as his leg muscles made his pants bulge.
His right fist struck out like lightning!
Mad violence surged in Zhang Changji's eyes, confident that this punch would cripple his opponent.
However, when their fists collided, the expected scene did not happen.
Zhang Changji felt a piercing pain in his bones, then with horror found that his force was completely negated, with an overwhelming power pouring into his arm.
A slight cracking sound and his sleeve shattered, the skin on his arm cracked, and fine beads of blood seeped from his pores, his fist mangled.
Before he could even cry out in pain, Zhao Douan suddenly charged forward, bending over to shoulder him off the ground.
Martial Artists feared being in mid-air without a point of leverage, becoming human punching bags.
Zhao Douan's right hand turned into a claw, tightly gripping the other's throat.
"Thud thud thud!" his feet pounded forward, each step leaving a footprint on the ground.
Zhang Changji's eyes bulged and his face turned crimson, his entire body dragged backward for several meters, slamming hard into a water jar.
The jar shattered, water splashing everywhere, and Zhang Changji, thrown to the ground, lay there as blood mixed with the clear water, spreading out.
The exchange was exceedingly quick. To the onlookers, it seemed merely a blink of an eye had passed before the victor was decided.
"Ah—" The discouraging shouts of the house servants and maids abruptly stopped, followed by instinctive screams.
Those injured villains, just getting up, watched in horror as their young master was instantly defeated, their courage faltering.
You Jinhua and Zhao Pan were also stunned, their eyes filled with shock and confusion.
How had the Zhao family's eldest, who had long neglected martial arts and was of mediocre talent, become so powerful?
Could it be that the soldier was too weak?
All sizzle and no steak?
They could no longer understand.
Zhang Changji coughed violently, the astonishment deep in his heart strongest; he completely didn't understand how he had lost.
He tried to struggle to his feet but only felt chaos in his inner qi and severe pain in his muscles, clearly having internal injuries.
"Thump." Zhao Douan stepped on his chest, pushing him back down calmly stating,
"If you're injured, lie still and don't move; you need to rest."
Zhang Changji's anger surged, repeatedly struggling but to no avail, and he could only glare at him, seething with rage.
"You're playing dirty!"
He would never admit that he could be defeated by Zhao Douan, instinctively assuming the other had used underhanded tactics.
Zhao Douan looked down on him with pity, exerted a slight force with the tip of his foot, and the latter cried out in pain immediately.
"What did you say? I didn't hear you clearly."
Zhao Douan said coldly, "Say it again."
Zhang Changji, in pain, gritted his teeth:
"You dare to hurt me, my elder brother and my uncle won't let you off!"
The elder brother of Zhang family's brothers was the current doctor at the Ministry of War, roughly equivalent to the "Director" position in the world familiar to Zhao Douan.
This was also the confidence behind his daring to cause trouble for Zhao Douan.
Another privileged young master... Zhao Douan sighed inwardly.
In his previous life, he had come from humble beginnings and ran into an extraordinary stroke of luck that caught the eye of a high-ranking official sent to the grassroots, barely giving him a glimpse into the upper echelons.
But even then, people like the Zhang brothers were beyond his reach.
Before transmigrating, I suffered under them; even after transmigrating, I still suffer. Isn't this transmigration in vain?
Zhao Douan's face was expressionless as he moved his foot away from the other's chest.
Zhang Changji breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that Zhao was scared.
Indeed, a little pretty boy who had lost the favor of the Saint had no right to hit him?
However, in the next second, his expression changed.
Zhao Douan stepped on his hand and pressed down heavily:
"You like to fight with your fists, don't you? I want to see how hard your fist is."
The crisp sound of bone breaking echoed in the small courtyard, as Zhang Changji's forehead broke out in sweat, his face turned deathly pale, and he screamed like a slaughtered pig.
His hand was destroyed.
Zhang Changji's eyes reddened, unable to believe that this fallen dog still dared to bite.
In the next second, Zhao Douan bent down and crouched beside him.
Gently, he took out a silver, palm-sized, exquisitely crafted waist card from his bosom.
With the string looped around his finger, the silver card slowly rotated above Zhang Changji's nose.
On it, the words "Royal Tributor" were clearly visible.
Each word was like a nail, fiercely hammered into his forehead!
Zhang Changji's expression suddenly froze, his eyes filled with disbelief.
He knew what this was.
The Royal Tributor, a group of elite protectors serving only the Emperor in the inner court, was established when the nation was founded six hundred years ago, and was notoriously hard to enter; non-eunuchs faced even greater difficulties.
Zhang Changji had tried to use his uncle's connections to dream of becoming a Tributor.
It wasn't entirely out of greed for the legacy; in fact, being a Tributor wasn't an 'official' role, nor did it have any real power.
Yet, the privileged still tirelessly schemed to get their descendants into it.
Because being a Tributor to the Imperial Family meant being the personal guard of the Emperor, representing immense trust in imperial power.
But his uncle only shook his head, telling him to give up on that idea.
Yet now, the identity he had longed for but could not obtain, Zhao Douan had already attained.
"How... how could you..."
Zhang Changji felt a surge of malevolence chilling him to the bone.
He finally realized that his elder brother's judgment might have been wrong.
Completely and utterly wrong.
Zhao Douan smiled as he whipped Zhang Changji's face with the silver waist card, his voice low, barely reaching his ears:
"You can try, go back and complain, see if this badge weighs enough to compensate for your hand."
"By the way, I unfortunately have also broken through a small boundary and reached the Middle Grade."
"Looking at your foolish appearance, with a dull mind rushing over here, it seems you still don't know that His Majesty has decided to protect me. Yes, your elder brother has been grounded at home for impeaching me."
Zhao Douan let out a gentle sigh, put away the waist card and his voice cooled:
"What do you have to fight me with?"
In that moment, Zhang Changji, overwhelmed with rage, blacked out and actually fainted from the fury.