You are really no match for me [Fighting] - Chapter 1

“Empress Jinyu! Empress Jinyu!”

Jinyu smiled and waved to the crowd.
“Thank you all for your encouragement and support. It’s getting late, you should head home early!”

“Goodbye, Empress! Don’t forget to come again next year—I’ll be there to see you!”

“Jinyu is so cool! Jinyu is the best!”

“Jinyu, you’re my idol! I love you so much, I want to marry you…”

“I want to marry Jinyu too! I want to give you monkeys—!”

Jinyu followed the voice, looking serious.
“That pretty girl over there… Saying you want to marry me, I understand—that’s the internet way of saying a girl looks handsome. But… what do you mean by ‘giving me monkeys’?”

The petite girl who had shouted it suddenly realized the “insane” thing she’d just blurted out. Jinyu wasn’t some entertainment star—she clearly didn’t know how these things worked in fandom culture.

Her face flushed crimson. She was usually the type to hide in a crowd, screaming her lungs out from the safety of anonymity. In reality, she was a cowardly fan—if she actually stood before her idol, her nerves, shyness, and pounding heart would leave her speechless.

The girl next to her burst into laughter and yelled back, “ ‘Giving monkeys’ means she wants to have kids with you! Jinyu, she’s crazy about you.”

Jinyu’s eyes lit with recognition.
“You two—I remember you. At last year’s competition in Beijing, weren’t you in the audience cheering for me?”

The girl nearly fainted as if struck by divine fortune.
“Wenwen, did you hear that? She remembers us—she really remembers us!”

Wenwen’s brows furrowed, eyes brimming with tears.
“Jinyu… she actually remembers us…”

Jinyu nodded firmly, then straightened and bowed respectfully.
“Thank you both for supporting me all this time. It hasn’t been easy. I hope I’ll see you again in the audience next year. Here—these are for you.”

From her small bag, she pulled out two objects.
“I heard my fans formed a support group called ‘Radiance of Jade’. I’m deeply grateful. I even tried making something myself, like you do. I think you call these ‘fan cards’ or ‘badges’? Anyway, thank you for your protection. I’ll keep moving forward.”

The girl let out a piercing wail.
“Empress! You’re not just strong but also so kind! How can there be someone as good and perfect as you in this world?”

Jinyu gave a calm, radiant smile, bowed once more, and slipped into the car.

“Let us see! Let us see!” The surrounding fans crowded in as the two lucky girls clutched their gifts to their chests, faces burning red. They resisted at first, but under the playful shouts of the others, they finally, nervously, and proudly showed them.

They were two square wood carvings.
On one, two little figures sparred—one clearly Jinyu, her likeness carved in the fan-favorite chibi style, vivid and full of life, the other figure a fan. The second carving showed two figures practicing Tai Chi.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, but the most precious part was the back: engraved words—“A gift from Jinyu” in bold, flowing Yan-style calligraphy, heavy yet graceful, perfectly matching her character.

The crowd cried out with envy.
“Ahhhh, reaching this level of fandom is the peak of peaks!”

“Do you know how valuable this is? It’s personally handmade by the idol herself! Why wasn’t I the one she gave it to?”

Kexin carefully tucked the wood carving away and shouted proudly, “I declare, I am Empress Jinyu’s lifelong diehard fan!”

Jinyu’s Background

Born into a martial arts family, Jinyu began training at six. At eight, she entered Shaolin Temple to study, and by twelve she was competing in national youth martial arts competitions, sweeping the children’s and youth championships year after year. At eighteen, she entered her first national martial arts tournament and took the championship, holding the title for five consecutive years.

She is a National Wuying-level athlete, a First-Class National Martial Arts Judge, and holds an Eighth-Dan rank—a true Queen of Kung Fu.

But she wasn’t just fists and kicks—she was widely read, a graduate of a top university, her school’s living legend, equally admired for her calligraphy and swordplay. Both scholar and warrior, she was a natural genius.

Deeply influenced by her family’s traditions and Confucian, Daoist, and martial philosophies, she remained humble, never arrogant despite her fame. How could anyone not fall for someone like her?

Later, leaning against the car window, Jinyu chuckled.
“These girls are really cute. But is it really trendy now to say you want to have someone’s children if you like them? But… how could two women have a child?”

“Um, Jinyu,” someone replied, “actually, there is a method where scientists can combine DNA from two egg cells to form a fertilized egg.”

Jinyu’s eyes widened in shock.
“Really? That’s incredible! I’ve never heard of that. Is there a paper on it? I’d love to study—it sounds amazing!”

The man in the driver’s seat, Gao Xisheng, groaned.
“Seriously? It’s just an exaggeration, a way of saying she really, really likes you. You don’t need to study it. You’ve had a long day—rest.”

Jinyu stuck her tongue out playfully at him. When their eyes met, she quickly shut hers, pretending to sleep.

He could only smile helplessly.

Jinyu had read countless classics, but she was hopeless with the internet, always nitpicking every odd term. Explaining online slang to her was exhausting. Over time, Gao Xisheng resorted to the simplest answers possible, cutting off her endless curiosity.

But then—blinding headlights from the side. A heavy truck slammed straight into them. Gao Xisheng swerved and hit the gas, but the truck still struck the car’s rear. The vehicle spun twice in the air. His head slammed into the wheel—knocking him out cold.

Jinyu, awakened the instant those headlights flared, braced herself, gripping the handles. But the impact was too strong. The crash hurled her into the window—then darkness swallowed her too.

When she opened her eyes again, she expected a hospital. Instead, she was lying on a bed in what looked like a lounge.

Her hand shot to her head—no bandages, no wounds. Just a mess of long hair that wasn’t hers. Shocked, she sprang to her feet, searching for a mirror.

The room was neat but strange—transparent tables, metallic walls glowing unnaturally, and scattered bizarre objects that flashed red when she touched them.

One object was a blue oval with silver lines, decorated with a glamorous, almost alien woman with mechanical arms. The face was strikingly beautiful, yet unlike any celebrity Jinyu knew—marked with unusual lines and bold makeup, unlike the trendy “innocent style” she vaguely remembered from the internet.

As she examined it, a square box on the windowsill began croaking like a frog.
“Wake up, Jinyu! Wake up, Jinyu!”

She grabbed it, baffled. “Who put this here? Where’s the switch?”

She found a touch button on the side and turned it off—only to see, outside the window, flying motorcycles.

This wasn’t 2025. No such technology existed—nor any law permitting it.

A knock at the door.
“Jinyu, get downstairs. Time to work.”

Her heart leapt. She didn’t recognize the voice. Given the futuristic room, the flying vehicles—an alarming but plausible thought hit her.

She might have traveled hundreds of years into the future.

The man who entered was gaunt, one eye mechanical, the other normal, greasy hair falling over his face above a large mask. Only those unsettling eyes showed.

“Every time it’s your shift, you’re off hiding somewhere quiet. We’re drowning in customers, cleaning nonstop, and you’re here relaxing. If it weren’t for your connection to the boss, I wouldn’t bother with you. Now get moving—clean the trash in the stands. I’ll handle the ring.”

Jinyu said nothing, maintaining the quiet persona of her new identity. He suspected nothing.

She followed him through twisting halls, the lights growing brighter—until the stench hit her. Bl00d. Mixed with alcohol and smoke.

Her fists clenched instinctively.

They turned a corner. The source came into view—an arena drenched in bl00d. Not the faint traces Jinyu was used to from matches, but pools, stains soaked deep into the floor.

The ring was massive—five, maybe eight times the size of a normal one. The stands were sprawling and chaotic.

The man shoved a trash bag and vacuum into her hands.
“Go on, before the boss chews me out.”

She cleaned quietly, scanning the place. Bottles, cigarettes, tissues. Then—a syringe. Her pupils shrank. Contraband.

Soon, she found more spray cans, vials. Definitely an illegal underground fighting pit.

On the ring, the masked man cursed as he scrubbed stubborn bl00d from the floor.
“Damn it, why won’t it come off!”

“I’m done,” Jinyu said calmly. “Where do I put this?”

“Corner. You heading home alone? Forget it, I’ll walk you out—don’t want the boss yelling again.”

She waited patiently, observing. The whole basement was sealed, no windows, neon lights in garish purples, blues, reds. A bar stocked not just with drinks, but oil cans. Strange.

Her gaze returned to the ring. Alongside the bl00d were… metal fragments. Fighters weren’t supposed to bring metal into the ring. Something was off.

Then a rough voice barked behind her.
“Hey! You seen my wrist brace?”

She turned to find a towering man, half his body gleaming machinery—even his chest, his mechanical heart pumping bl00d through tubes.

A cyborg fighter.

A thought struck her. Once, in Chongqing, people had told her the city was “cyberpunk.” She’d looked it up online: a world of hyper-technology and cybernetic modification.

Could it be? She had crossed into a cyberpunk future.

For now, she played along. If she slipped, she might end up dissected in a lab—or burned as a witch.

The giant stomped forward, his heavy metal limbs clanging against the floor. He caught her staring, his face twisting into a snarl.
“What the hell are you looking at, b1tch? Who told you to look at me like that?”

Jinyu lowered her gaze obediently. He sneered and turned away, climbing onto the stage.

The masked man hurried to appease him.
“Brother Kong, your brace isn’t here. Maybe you left it somewhere else?”

“No way! I just fought here—I didn’t go anywhere! You hiding it from me? Steal it?!”

He grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly.
“I told you—find it, or I’ll kill you!”

The man went pale, sweating.
“You’re wronging me! I never even saw it. Even if I did, I wouldn’t dare take it—it’s unique to you! Stealing it would be suicide!”

The giant’s fist rose, ready to smash his skull.

“Stop!” Jinyu shouted. “You can’t just hit him. Do you have any proof he took it?”

The cyborg sneered down at her.
“Proof? My word is proof. In here, nothing matters more than what I say.”

Jinyu vaulted lightly onto the ring.
“Your word isn’t proof. You can’t just beat him without reason.”

His face darkened.
“B1tch, you’ve got a death wish. I don’t spare women out of chivalry—just because when I hit men, they live. When I hit women, they die. You want to die? Just say it.”

The masked man trembled, tears brimming, shoving her away.
“Sister… I didn’t expect you to stand up for me. Even if I die today, it’ll be worth it!”

Jinyu smirked coldly.
“You think I’ll die? Not a chance.”

Her body moved with ease—her skills, her inner strength were still with her. Against a machine like this man, an ordinary fighter would stand no chance. But Jinyu was no ordinary fighter. She had mastered the art of soft overcoming hard, the harmony of strength and gentleness.

She slid into a fighting stance.

The cyborg roared, raising his fist.
“Insignificant insect! You want death? I’ll grant it!”

His punch barreled toward her face—

“Enough, Kong. Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

A voice rang out from behind.