Chapter 10: The Broomstick Battle

While they were still talking, Chai Xiao was already panting heavily after running three laps.

With each lap, it seemed he was about to stop at any moment.

But he didn’t stop; he just kept running.

By the time he finished the third lap, it was clear he was done for.

The fat on his body shook violently, as if it would all fall off onto the ground the next second.

“Your Majesty! That’s enough! Take a break!”

“Your Majesty! Wipe your sweat!”

Zhang Bao, along with He Yun and Lan Zhi, kept calling out.

But Chai Xiao paid them no mind. Though his pace wasn’t fast, he continued running step by step.

“Thud! Thud! Thud!”

His footsteps were so heavy.

Each step forward felt like a massive stone crashing hard onto the ground.

Zhang Bao could no longer stand it.

“He Yun, go quickly fetch the Junior Tutor! Ask if this is some exercise assigned by him to His Majesty.”

“Lan Zhi, hurry to summon Consort Shu! Surely it’s not her punishing His Majesty for making a mistake? But His Majesty hasn’t made any mistakes!”

The two women hurriedly agreed with a “Yes” and turned to run.

“No need!” Chai Xiao called from afar, waving both hands.

“I chose to do this exercise myself! Otherwise, with this body, how could I possibly go to Taizhou to oversee the dike breach?”

“That little scamp... could he really be going to that disaster-stricken place where even starving wolves dare not go, to supervise the dike's closure?”

Zhang Bao’s face turned pale, like a frostbitten eggplant.

His chest heaved up and down, as if resonating with Chai Xiao’s heavy panting.

He soon gathered his breath, and the chief steward’s eyes sharpened, as if deeply stirred. He shouted to the nearby guards:

“What are you all standing there for? His Majesty already started training early this morning, and you still want to keep gathering, scattering, and making a fuss?”

“We’re coming!”

The guards hurried over, jogging laps behind Chai Xiao.

At a glance, they too were rusty in battle formation, gasping for breath after only a few steps.

Chai Xiao glanced at Zhang Bao with a strange expression.

This guy’s reaction was quick!

The moment he saw me running drills, he immediately thought to have the soldiers, who had been neglecting training, run with me.

If it were my old body, I could easily lead them for twenty or thirty laps.

But with this weak, useless frame, I’m already drained.

I’m forcing myself to keep going purely by willpower!

If you make them come now, at least I’d have to run two or three laps with them.

Wouldn’t that be risking my life?

A sovereign, why must he always be put through the fire when he has no choice?

Chai Xiao placed one hand on his hip and the other supporting his large belly, ran two more laps, then stopped.

“Your Majesty!”

Zhang Bao, He Yun, and Lan Zhi hurried forward.

Just as they were about to wipe his sweat and hand him water, they saw him puffing his cheeks and waving them off, then turning his back.

“Wah!”

As soon as he turned, he spat out.

Zhang Bao quickly stepped forward, gently patting his back.

“Your Majesty! You ran so suddenly and fiercely!”

“It’s fine! I’ll get used to it in a few days!”

Chai Xiao took the handkerchief from He Yun and wiped his mouth.

Then, supporting himself on his knees, he gasped for a full five minutes before straightening up.

“Zhang Bao, did you ever study martial arts before?”

Zhang Bao was startled.

This little scamp had never asked such a question before—what was going on?

Had he really changed?

Though puzzled, since his martial arts background wasn’t a secret or shameful, he calmly answered.

“Yes! When I was young, I was a novice monk at the Southern Shaolin Temple. Later, the temple was completely destroyed by a lightning fire, leaving us no livelihood, so I had no choice but to enter the palace.”

“What styles do you know? Teach me!”

At that moment, Chai Xiao strolled over to the weapons rack at the training ground, picking up and weighing several weapons.

A broad saber, wolf tooth club, flower spear, sword and halberd.

But he only tried them briefly before putting them down.

It wasn’t until he saw a broom nearby that he grabbed it, swinging it a couple of times.

Zhang Bao exhaled deeply, a smile creeping to the corner of his mouth.

Thank goodness!

The little scamp chose a broom, not a sharp weapon.

After running himself to vomiting this early morning, if he saw blood now—

Consort Shu, who valued her precious son’s life above all, would surely massacre the entire internal affairs department!

But before Zhang Bao could laugh out loud, Chai Xiao spun the broom’s handle in his palm and suddenly struck hard.

“Your Majesty! What are you doing?”

Zhang Bao instinctively half-turned, dodging to the right, causing the broom to strike empty air.

Chai Xiao smiled faintly, holding the broom upright with his right hand, then lightly flicked his wrist.

The broom’s head tapped the ground once, then again.

“Come on! Pick a weapon you’re comfortable with! If you lose, it’s the Shaolin Temple’s reputation on the line!”

“This…”

Zhang Bao’s body trembled, as if struck by lightning.

His eyes widened like copper coins, mouth agape, unable to close for a long while.

He stood frozen, as if under a paralysis spell.

Just now, Chai Xiao’s move was actually the opening stance of a weapons duel.

One tap is called the “Golden Rooster Nods.”

Another tap is the “Immortal Points the Way.”

With the way he held it upright, lightly flicked, and tapped, it indicated several years of training at least.

My little scamp!

Did you dream last night of the Shaolin Patriarch Bodhidharma or the Sword Immortal Lü Dongbin?

Have you learned many moves and so came to train early this morning?

But how to explain this stance, which requires years of skill?

Could it be that he has received a supreme inheritance, able to train in his dreams?

A fleeting dream equaling ten years in reality?

Before he could figure it out, Chai Xiao lunged forward with the broom!

“Swish!”

The tip was about to strike the forehead.

Zhang Bao dodged back desperately.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another broom behind him, flipped over like a hawk, and grabbed it.

Knives, spears, clubs, swords, halberds—

He dared not take any of those!

If blood were shed, no need for Consort Shu’s punishment; he might as well commit suicide right then!

“Clap! Clap!”

After two heavy strikes from Chai Xiao, Zhang Bao tried to counterattack.

He first feinted with the broom, then jabbed obliquely upwards, followed by a horizontal sweep.

In truth, he was using the essence of the Southern Shaolin “Coiling Dragon Staff Technique.”

Of course, he dared not put in much force, and his moves were only “used” but not “actual.”

Touch and stop.

Not even touching—just pretending.

But at least, he shifted from defense to offense, letting the little scamp know that this chief steward of the internal affairs department had trained in child’s kung fu since youth.

This was no mere show!

“Well done!”

Chai Xiao lightly shouted, spinning the broom with a flourish.

He ignored Zhang Bao’s feints, simply using the broom shaft to block the oblique jab and horizontal sweep.

“Bang! Bang!”

Feeling the force from the opposing long pole, Zhang Bao was utterly stunned.

This was genuine skill!

No time to daze, Chai Xiao’s large frame began to leap and spin.

Clutching the broom tightly in his right arm, he swung it out with full force repeatedly.

One strike!

Another strike!

Like Pangu wielding the heavenly axe, smashing again and again against Zhang Bao’s barely blocking broom shaft!

“Bang!”

“Bang!”

“Bang!”