The Almighty Martial Arts System

“Smash————!”

A teacup shattered into pieces, porcelain shards scattering across the floor.

“Li Gongzi, what’s wrong?” asked a curvaceous model—a third-rate minor celebrity who had played a small supporting role in a hit movie this year—her voice cautious.

Li Jirong’s face was twisted in rage. Without even glancing at the starlet, he roared into his phone, “Useless! All of you, useless! I told you to cause trouble at the concert, and you couldn’t even do that right! What good are you? Eat shit!”

“W-we’re sorry… It’s just that the guy’s piano performance was too incredible. It completely won over the audience. If we’d tried to start trouble, not only would we have failed, we’d have been arrested…” A man’s voice on the other end sounded desperate.

“Incredible? Incredible my ass! F*ck!” Without hesitation, Li Jirong hurled his phone against the wall.

Crash!

The device split apart, the screen exploding into fragments.

This morning, nearly every major media outlet had plastered their front pages with scandalous rumors about Qiao Yiyi and Jiang Fei—all orchestrated by him. The photos of Qiao Yiyi and Jiang Fei together during her vocal cord injury? He’d paid a fortune to have those stolen.

His goal? To ruin Qiao Yiyi’s reputation.

Releasing this bombshell the day before her concert, framing Jiang Fei as a well-connected “official second-generation” and painting Qiao Yiyi as a gold-digger, he’d aimed to turn her fans against her.

That was just step one.

Step two? Arrange for agitators to stir up the already frustrated fans at the concert, creating chaos. If successful, the fallout would be massive.

With over 40,000 fans packed into the venue, any disturbance would spiral out of control—no amount of security could contain it. And if a stampede broke out? Even better. Qiao Yiyi’s career would be finished.

But fate had other plans. How could Li Jirong have known that Jiang Fei—some random doctor—was actually a piano virtuoso? His performance had enchanted the entire crowd, turning them against Li’s scheme.

With the fans now on Jiang Fei’s side, Li’s hired troublemakers stood no chance. The moment they made a move, security would’ve taken them down.

Just like that, Jiang Fei’s piano solo had dismantled Li Jirong’s meticulously crafted plan.

“Damn those two bastards!” Li Jirong’s fury refused to fade, his face contorted. The model kept her distance, too afraid to speak up again, lest his rage turn on her.

After several minutes, Li Jirong finally reined in his temper. Glaring at the model, he snapped, “Get the SIM card from my broken phone and put it in yours.”

“O-okay…” She didn’t dare refuse. This young master of Huaying Entertainment held her future in his hands—her chance at a second film role, this time as the female lead’s rival, depended entirely on him.

Retrieving the SIM card from the shattered phone, she inserted it into her own and handed it to him with trembling hands. Still seething, Li Jirong dialed a number.

“The concert’s almost over. Are you ready?” he demanded.

“Don’t worry, Li Gongzi. We’ve never failed at something this simple,” replied a confident male voice.

“Good. You’ll be paid well when it’s done.” Li Jirong ended the call coldly.

A chilling hatred gleamed in his eyes.

“Qiao Yiyi, you stuck-up b*tch! No matter how high and mighty you act, I’ll make you beg!”

“And Jiang Fei? You dare hit me? I can’t touch Ye Yuanyuan, but you? You’re dead.”

…

Meanwhile…

Qiao Yiyi’s concert had ended in unprecedented success. In today’s hyperconnected world, news spreads like wildfire—within minutes, the entire internet knew about the “scandalous boyfriend” who’d stunned 40,000 fans with a piano performance.

Of course, reporters had infiltrated the concert, hoping for a scoop on how Qiao Yiyi would address the rumors. By the time the show ended, blurry clips of Jiang Fei’s performance were already trending.

“China’s New Piano Prodigy Emerges!”
“A Once-in-a-Lifetime Performance at Qiao Yiyi’s Concert!”
“No Wonder She Fell for Him—A Genius Among Men!”

Even those who hadn’t attended understood the hype after hearing the recordings.

Though the concert had run late, ending at 11 PM, a swarm of reporters still lurked outside the stadium, desperate for interviews. Normally, artists would be too exhausted post-concert, but tonight’s drama was too juicy to ignore.

“Finally done! Ugh, I’m exhausted but so happy,” Qiao Yiyi sighed, slumping in her chair as staff removed her stage accessories.

“Aunt Mei, can you handle the press for me? I really don’t want to face them tonight,” she pleaded.

Aunt Mei, her manager, nodded sympathetically. “Fine. Sneak out the back—I’ll deal with them.”

Jiang Fei, who’d arrived with Qiao Yiyi, had no choice but to leave with her. If he went out alone, the reporters would mob him too.

So, the two slipped out through a side exit, changed into casual clothes, and made a clean escape while Aunt Mei diverted the press.

…

The Ambush

In a white van near the stadium, six men lurked in the shadows.

“Boss, only the old lady came out. No sign of Qiao Yiyi,” one muttered.

Then the leader’s phone rang. After a brief call, he barked, “Move! They’re leaving through the northwest gate—go now!”

The van sped off.

“Listen up,” the leader, a heavyset man, growled. “When we stop their car, stick to the script. No slip-ups!”

“Got it! We’ll yell something like, ‘Qiao Yiyi, you gold-digging traitor! How dare you dump Quan Yingran for some official’s son? We’re here for justice!’ Right?”

“Idiot! Just get the message across—improvise if you have to!”

“Understood!”

“And remember—light hits on Qiao Yiyi. Five slaps max, just enough to bruise. But the guy, Jiang Fei? Break him. Just don’t kill him.”

One thug smirked. “Boss, hitting a woman feels wrong… How about we ‘accidentally’ cop a feel? I mean, Qiao Yiyi’s smoking hot. I’ve dreamed about her—”

“Shut your damn mouth!” the leader snarled. “Do the job, get paid, then go to a brothel. Touch her, and I’ll break your hands!”

Grumbling, the men prepared their weapons.

All except one—a silent, icy-eyed figure in the back, his expression unreadable.