008 The Tiger-Obsessed Warrior: Xu Chu

On this side, the doctor had just finished changing Su Ming’s bandages.

Suddenly, the sound of clanking armor and weapons erupted outside, and in an instant, the door was kicked open.

A squad of Cao soldiers poured into the room in single file.

Almost without thinking, Su Ming reached back and snatched up the golden sword lying at the bedside.

Sun Shangxiang, too, didn’t hesitate—her sword flashed from its scabbard with a metallic ring.

The sharp reaction from both Su Ming and Sun Shangxiang was entirely due to the anxiety gnawing at their hearts. For Sun Shangxiang in particular, her identity was exceedingly delicate. Falling into the hands of the so-called Cao bandits would be nothing short of disaster.

“Still intend to resist?”

“Men, seize them!” With a barked order, Xu Chu directed his soldiers to charge.

But these ordinary soldiers were hardly worthy opponents. Not only could they not match Su Ming, they were no match for Sun Shangxiang either!

Though she seemed but a young maiden, Sun Shangxiang was as valiant as any hero. Brandishing her gleaming sword, she darted and slashed, dispatching several soldiers in a flurry of movement.

Those soldiers crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain.

Xu Chu’s face darkened at the spectacle. His men, bested so soundly by a mere woman—how humiliating.

“Useless, the lot of you! Useless!” he cursed. “Can’t fight, can’t eat without making a mess—so many of you, and you can’t even handle one woman?”

None of his men had the strength to rebut; they had, after all, been beaten—so many of them, by a single young woman. It was, undeniably, a disgrace.

“Big man, don’t look down on women,” Sun Shangxiang retorted, bristling. “You may be tall, but you’re not necessarily my match.”

“Nonsense!” Xu Chu sneered. “If I, Xu Chu, can’t capture a little girl like you today, I’ll slit my own throat.”

As Cao Cao’s bodyguard, Xu Chu’s martial prowess was legendary. Few could stand against him in single combat.

Having spoken, Xu Chu strode forward, raising his iron broadsword, pointing it squarely at Sun Shangxiang.

“Go ahead, little lady—make your move,” he challenged.

Sun Shangxiang’s gaze grew steely. She returned her sword to its sheath and, with a swift motion, drew her Greenshadow spear to face her adversary.

Now that she knew she was up against Xu Chu, Sun Shangxiang realized she would need to summon every ounce of her strength to stand a chance.

Her Greenshadow spear lashed out like a venomous bamboo viper, darting for Xu Chu’s chest.

Despite his burly frame, Xu Chu was a surprisingly agile man.

At the last possible instant, as the spearpoint closed in on his chest, Xu Chu swept his iron blade horizontally to block—and shoved with all his might.

With a thud, Sun Shangxiang was forced back several steps before she could steady herself, her strength no match for his.

Xu Chu pressed his advantage, closing in with his broadsword as soon as she retreated.

But with a ringing clash, Su Ming brought his mace down on Xu Chu’s sword.

The jarring force of the blow made Xu Chu pause in surprise.

“Impressive!” he exclaimed. “Even wounded, you still have such strength.” Now, his interest in Su Ming was piqued.

“Boy, fight me! If you win, I’ll let you both go!” Xu Chu challenged Su Ming.

Given their circumstances and the perilous nature of their identities, outmatching Xu Chu and escaping unscathed was their best hope.

Though Su Ming was gravely wounded, the martial spirit of Yuwen Chengdu burned within him. Even in such a state, he believed he could defeat Xu Chu.

“Very well,” Su Ming replied.

“It’s a deal,” Xu Chu agreed.

At once, the two squared off.

After feeling the force behind Su Ming’s earlier strike, Xu Chu realized his opponent was no ordinary man, and so he seized the initiative.

Xu Chu’s fighting style was all brute strength, force overwhelming technique. But such an approach had its limits—especially if he ever met someone whose strength surpassed his own.

The clash of mace and blade rang out in the room, each blow resounding, sending shockwaves that rattled the furnishings to the floor.

When immortals do battle, mortals suffer the consequences.

By now, the soldiers Xu Chu had brought had retreated outside to watch, knowing full well that they could not withstand even a stray blow from these two mighty combatants.

The martial spirit of Yuwen Chengdu was truly formidable. Even gravely injured, Su Ming fought Xu Chu to a standstill—perhaps even gaining the upper hand.

Had Su Ming not been wounded, perhaps only Lu Bu could have been his equal.

But whether Su Ming or Lu Bu was the greater warrior was a question that would remain unanswered. Lu Bu had perished at White Gate Tower at Cao Cao’s hand the previous year; there would be no chance for a match in this lifetime.

“Who is this man?” one soldier whispered. “He’s incredible! Even wounded, he’s keeping pace with General Xu!”

“If he weren’t hurt, General Xu might already have lost,” another ventured—promptly causing his nearby comrades to edge away. Was he mad? Xu Chu could hear every word. Did he have a death wish?

After exchanging blows for so long, Su Ming had come to understand Xu Chu’s methods. Though gifted with extraordinary strength, Xu Chu’s techniques were rather plain, relying on sheer force and instinct.

In truth, many of the famed warriors of the Three Kingdoms were much the same—blessed by the gods, but largely self-taught, honing their skills through battle rather than formal instruction. Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Xu Chu himself were such men.

According to history, Zhao Yun was said to have studied under the spear master Tong Yuan, and Ma Chao’s skill was inherited from his forebear, General Ma Yuan.

Now, having seen through Xu Chu’s style, Su Ming knew it was time to end the contest.

In the flurry of battle, he spotted an opening. With his left hand, he drove his mace toward Xu Chu’s chest.

Just as expected, Xu Chu’s reaction was straightforward—he instinctively raised his blade to block.

At that precise moment, Su Ming’s right hand brought his other mace down toward Xu Chu’s forehead.

But the golden mace halted just three inches above Xu Chu’s brow—it did not strike down.