You Are Really No Match For Me [Fighting] - Chapter 27

4:00 PM.

 

“Jin Mu! Long time no see, I’ve missed you, brother!”

 

A white BMW rolled up, the window sliding down to reveal Lu Ting’s bearded, greasy face splitting into a grin. He wore a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses pinned at the collar.

 

Jin Mu had already been waiting at the arena entrance. At the sight, he merely nodded coolly. “Long time no see, Lu Ting.”

 

Lu Ting leapt from the car in one bound, pulling him into a bear hug so exaggerated that Jin Mu stumbled back a step. Frowning, he shoved the overly enthusiastic man away and straightened his glasses, which had been knocked askew.

 

“Whoa!” Lu Ting’s gaze was immediately drawn to Jin Yu at his side. “And this must be the famed Miss Jin Yu of Jiangbei, eh? Seeing you in person beats a thousand rumors!” He half-jogged over, seizing both of her hands. “Young lady, you’re even more valiant than in the videos!”

 

Jin Yu politely withdrew her hand. “Hello, Mr. Lu.”

 

“No, no, no!” Lu Ting waved frantically. “No need for ‘Mr.’ nonsense. Just call me Old Lu!”

 

“Mr. Bai Hanqing, I’ve heard your name too.”

 

“You’re too polite. Just call me Little Bai.” Normally cocky and unruly, Little Bai found himself oddly subdued before this smooth-talking veteran.

 

“Brother King Kong, long time no see!”

 

“Long time no see, Brother Lu.”

 

Lu Ting made the rounds shaking hands like an old friend, then, arm slung warmly around Jin Yu’s shoulders, herded them toward the arena. The flamboyant coconut-tree pattern on his shirt swayed with every grand gesture.

 

“Look at these muscle lines! That frame! Born for fighting!” he exclaimed, clicking his tongue. “I swear, I’ve watched every one of your live matches. Absolutely thrilling! Been dying to come learn from you. It’s all this block of wood Jin Mu’s fault…”

 

Surprisingly, this streetwise scoundrel was a master at conversation.

 

He was witty, quick with praise, and dissected Jin Yu’s every move with startling accuracy—even the tiniest technical details. In less than ten minutes, even the usually cool and aloof Jin Yu had laughed several times.

 

Lu Ting, thirty-two years old, was an old hand of the streets, a regular at bars and nightclubs, rubbing shoulders with the wealthy and powerful. With his silver tongue, sharp instincts, and knack for stirring the mood, he was welcome everywhere.

 

Years of hustling had earned him not just connections, but also a profitable niche—

 

He was a “guardian” in the preliminary tournaments.

 

Behind these officially livestreamed events lurked countless interests. Every faction wanted their own fighter to rise. But matches were risky. That’s where Lu Ting came in—professional “escort to victory.”

 

Unlike crude match-fixing, Lu Ting knew the game. He never backed useless trash. Against true powerhouses, he would even stage a convincing “injury withdrawal” right on camera.

 

Last year, facing a seeded champion, he dramatically clutched an “old wound” mid-fight. Not only did he save his employer’s face, he even won sympathy from the crowd.

 

“Miss, we’re fated to meet! Let me be your guardian for the prelims—friendship price, twenty percent off! What do you say?”

 

Jin Yu pushed away the arm he had slung around her shoulder. “I can handle myself.”

 

Lu Ting wasn’t offended. “Now, now, no need to reject me so fast. There’s time to think it over.”

 

Jin Yu only gave him a perfunctory, “Mm.”

 

His grin widened as he changed the subject. “Jin Mu, I booked a private room already, same old place. Let’s all go eat, relax a little, eh?”

 

Jin Mu glanced at Jin Yu.

 

“No problem,” he replied.

 

Once Lu Ting was gone, the group let out various lengths of relieved sighs and returned to the lounge for a private discussion.

 

“That guy looks like a thug,” Little Bai muttered, wiping sweat. “But the pressure he gives off is… scary.”

 

Jin Mu shot him a glance. “Stay sharp tonight. He’s far sharper than he looks.”

 

Just then, the lounge door burst open and Su Wanying stormed in, immediately plopping down at Jin Yu’s side.

 

“You again? What are you doing here, kid?” Little Bai frowned.

 

“None of your business!” She stuck her tongue out. “I’m here for Sister Jin Yu!”

 

“We’re in a meeting. Don’t mess around.”

 

“Bleh! I’ll listen if I want to!”

 

Jin Yu held back Little Bai, who looked ready to blow. “I asked her to come.” She turned to the others. “Go on—what do you think of Lu Ting?”

 

“Let’s make one thing clear,” she added firmly. “I won’t hire him as a guardian.”

 

Su Xi: “I think he’s just fishing for a payday.”

 

Little Bai: “Honestly though, he’s escorted plenty to victory. With him, prelims would be guaranteed.”

 

Jin Mu: “Exactly. And if we can beat his team, then our prelim run is basically secured.”

 

Little Bai: “Then what if we just pay him for training sessions instead of guardianship?”

 

Su Xi shook her head. “Easier said than done. His training fee can’t compare to a guardian’s payoff.”

 

Jin Yu mused aloud. “He was slick, yes, but careful with boundaries. Doesn’t seem the type to sabotage from the shadows.”

 

Meanwhile, Su Wanying was fiddling with the little potted plant on the table. “What are you talking about? Tell me! I wanna know too.”

 

Jin Yu patted her head. “Nothing you need to worry about. You going home tonight? We’ve got dinner plans.”

 

“I want to come too!” she pouted.

 

Su Xi, thoughtful, suggested, “Since Wanying can hack cameras, why not see what Lu Ting’s up to now? Might show his true purpose.”

 

Little Bai slapped his thigh. “Brilliant!”

 

Smug, Su Wanying whipped out her laptop, fingers flying. In no time, she had multiple hidden feeds from the hotel room Lu Ting was using.

 

Jin Yu frowned. “This hotel has way too many hidden cameras…”

 

Though they already knew hotels weren’t exactly safe, seeing so many spy cams still chilled them.

 

Onscreen, Lu Ting seemed to be having his own meeting. Three others were present: a masked short-haired girl, a burly giant, and a young man with black hair.

 

Mostly, it was Lu Ting blustering while the others occasionally chimed in.

 

“That’s his team, no doubt,” Jin Mu explained. “The new boy’s unfamiliar. Looks like they added him this year.”

 

Su Wanying pulled up past footage for comparison. Jin Mu elaborated: “The girl’s the sniper, the big guy’s control, and Lu Ting marks targets and baits.

 

Usually, they open with a cheap shot on lone opponents before charging in. Only against groups do they get tactical.”

 

The video showed Lu Ting and the brute ganging up on Jin Mu while the sniper fired from a tree.

 

Jin Mu had fled, beaten and bedraggled.

 

He coughed lightly. “They had great teamwork. I had no choice but to retreat. Later I regrouped with others and dismantled them.”

 

“In any case,” he concluded, “I recommend engaging with them. Could help a lot for prelims.”

 

Little Bai: “Yeah, why not? Jin Mu’s footing the bill anyway.”

 

Su Wanying: “Sister, try it! It’ll be fun!”

 

Su Xi: “Jin Yu, your call.”

 

Jin Yu: “Fine then. Let’s spar with them—pay per match.”

 

Jin Mu: “I’ll book the venue. Bai, you handle the price.”

 

Little Bai thumped his chest. “Leave it to me.”

 

Evening came quickly. They drove to the restaurant: Su Wanying insisted on riding a motorcycle with Su Xi, while Jin Mu drove Jin Yu, and Little Bai tailed them in a compact Jetta.

 

In the private room, Lu Ting made introductions. The short-haired girl and the brute were shy, but the black-haired boy was bold, greeting everyone as brother or sister. When he reached Su Wanying, he hesitated, then called her “little sister.” She snorted, ignored him, and shoulder-checked him before taking a seat.

 

Su Xi leaned toward Jin Yu. “That kid’s wearing Wilderness Dew. Probably shady.”

 

Determined to reclaim some dignity, Little Bai sat beside Lu Ting, pouring drinks.

 

Everyone except Lu Ting, Little Bai, and the black-haired boy ordered juice. Between bites of food and quiet conversation, Jin Yu noticed the boy sneaking glances at her.

 

She frowned and signaled Su Xi to block his line of sight. Sure enough, he shifted again to look.

 

Jin Yu texted Su Xi, who promptly moved over to drink with Lu Ting, freeing the seat beside her. The boy immediately slid in, using an excuse to pour her a drink.

 

“Miss Jin Yu,” he began, “I’m Wang Jiasong. Heard so much about you. Meeting you today—your reputation is well earned.”

 

“Polite words. You joined Lu Ting’s team this year?”

 

“Yes, just making a living, earning some pocket change.”

 

Jin Yu’s eyes flicked to the Rolex Submariner on his wrist.

 

Then Su Wanying swooped in, plucked a button off his collar, and tossed it into his orange juice. The liquid hissed and smoked. She had noticed the trick the moment she entered.

 

Jin Yu slammed his head onto the table. Su Xi and Little Bai pinned Lu Ting on either side.

 

“Let go.” Lu Ting narrowed his eyes.

 

They released him. He rolled his shoulders, face dark. “Miss Jin Yu, what’s the meaning of this? Ever heard of hospitality for guests?”

 

Su Wanying rested her chin in her palms. “Uncle Lu, that’s our question—why’s this guy wearing a hidden camera?” She spun her laptop around. The screen showed Jin Yu’s profile—from the exact angle of Wang Jiasong’s collar.

 

Caught red-handed, Lu Ting’s smile finally cracked. “Jiasong, what the hell?!”

 

His glare was venomous. “Sorry, everyone. Truth is, he’s the one I was supposed to escort. He insisted on matching against you, Jin Yu. I told him no—obviously you’re the real deal—but he wouldn’t listen. Said he had to see for himself. I swear I didn’t know he’d wear a damn camera to dinner. My apologies!”

 

He drained his glass as proof of contrition.

 

“Let me go,” Wang Jiasong growled.

 

Jin Yu released him. His demeanor flipped to scorn. “Strong grip. Question is—are your skills real?”

 

Jin Yu’s gaze hardened. “You’re welcome to find out.”

 

But Wang only leaned back, legs crossed. “Not worth my time. Tell you what—you name a price, and I’ll pay you to throw the prelims to me.”

 

Disgust flashed across Lu Ting’s, the girl’s, and the brute’s faces.

 

“Shut your mouth!” Lu Ting snapped.

 

Too late. The damage was done.

 

Wang Jiasong came from money, one of several brothers—overshadowed by his elder, less doted on than his younger, even his allowance short a zero. Not entirely useless though. Gym time, private coaches, dabbling in boxing and MMA—he treated fighting as a hobby, not a career. After all, pros were all walking injuries. Why suffer when you’re rich?

 

And his family forbade it anyway, calling fighting shameful.

 

Then one day he’d gone to a race. The victor had been Song Jing. Back then, Song Jing wasn’t crippled yet, taking corners with suicidal speed. Wang had been smitten, befriended him.

 

He had money to burn, Song Jing loved booze, gambling, women. They bonded fast, inseparable for half a year. Until Song Jing’s leg was ruined, forcing retirement. Contact faded.

 

Recently, they’d bumped into each other at a bar.

 

Drunk, Song Jing had ranted: the fight scene was full of posers, especially that Jin Yu—cheap tricks, he claimed, costing him a match, humiliating him.

 

Song Jing, half-educated and cocky from his racing fame, was used to adoring female fans. To him, women were disposable playthings. Being beaten by one left a bitter scar.

 

Wang, in his drunken haze, had believed him. “Brother, I’ll get payback for you!”

 

Unlike Song Jing, Wang had money and some talent. He hired pros to spar. Soon he discovered—he wasn’t half bad.

 

That fired him up even more.

 

But Jin Yu’s official matches were fully booked. He couldn’t challenge her.

 

Then someone suggested: “Why not ask Lu Ting to arrange it?”

 

Wang grinned. Perfect. Pretend to hire him as guardian, but really just to get matched against Jin Yu.

 

Only later, hearing locals praise Jin Yu nonstop, then watching her match footage, did reality sink in. Song Jing had lied. She’d beaten him fair and square. She was the strongest in Jiangbei.

 

Too late to back out.

 

So he hatched a “pay her to throw” scheme, even wore a camera for “safety.”

 

Now exposed, he was humiliated.

 

Su Xi’s face turned crimson. “Utter bullshit! Look down on women all you like, but stepping on Jin Yu to prop yourself up? Who do you think you are, some spoiled prince?”

 

Little Bai sneered. “Yeah, keep bragging. A few bucks doesn’t make you a king.”

 

Jin Mu’s tone was cold steel. “Watch your mouth.”

 

Su Wanying’s eyes blazed. “Sister Jin Yu is championship material! And you? A nobody who needs an escort to survive prelims? Who’d believe your trash talk!”

 

Even clay idols bleed when struck. And Jin Yu was forged in bl00d and fists.

 

Disgusted, she leaned forward, eyes sharp as blades. “Then let’s settle it. Fight me.”

 

Caught by her sudden ferocity, Wang’s mind blanked. “Fight? What kind of fight?”

 

“A simulated prelim match,” she declared, voice like iron. “Lose, and you leave Jiangbei.”

 

“And if you lose?” he shot back, desperate.

 

Her brow arched, eyes burning with fire. “I won’t lose.”

 

Jin Mu stepped behind her, calm as ever. “Simulated match. Tomorrow, 9 AM. Rules: Coliseum-style life-or-death round. If you lose, you withdraw. If we lose, we withdraw.”

 

Wang Jiasong shot to his feet. “Deal.”