The Almighty Martial Arts System

“Did you notice anything unusual just now?” Jiang Fei asked Cui Xiuping beside him.

He didn’t think he had imagined it—Yu Ruzhi, the leader of the Fire Spirit School, dressed in a qipao, had indeed winked at him.

“What do you mean, unusual?” Cui Xiuping asked, puzzled. His eyes still carried a trace of melancholy, likely lingering on the mention of his senior brother earlier.

“Never mind.” Jiang Fei frowned and shook his head before lifting his gaze toward the front of the hall.

The leaders of the three major schools—now the three heads of the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) Association—had taken their seats at the front. Kong Yun of the slightly stout Danxi School was the first to speak:

“The annual TCM Association symposium has convened once again. It brings me great joy to gather with the finest TCM practitioners from across the nation. The fact that Chinese medicine still holds a place in our country today is thanks to each and every one of you here. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all!”

Clap clap clap—

The crowd of renowned doctors broke into applause at Kong Yun’s words.

Kong Yun raised his hands, motioning for silence. He seemed to be the most eloquent among the three leaders, which was why he had been chosen to host this conference. The other two schools—the Attack Evil School and the Fire Spirit School—had no objections, sitting by with faint smiles, tacitly approving.

“Even if I don’t spell it out, I believe everyone here already has some idea of the main topic of this symposium, correct?” Kong Yun’s smile faded, replaced by a grave expression.

The atmosphere in the hall, which had been lively with old friends reuniting, grew solemn. Even Yu Qingsong, whose face had been flushed with anger earlier, barely restraining himself from dragging Jiang Fei out for a beating, set aside his fury to focus on the matter at hand.

After a deliberate pause, Kong Yun continued:

“That’s right. In half a month, the Western Medicine Alliance from Europe and America will send an exchange delegation to our country for an ‘academic visit.’ But let’s be honest—while they call it an exchange, what they’re really here for is the decades-old rivalry between Chinese and Western medicine!”

“Just like a month ago, when many of our colleagues formed a delegation to visit the West, giving lectures on TCM while secretly competing in medical skill.”

“Unfortunately, last time, we lost. If not for Elder Cui’s timely intervention, turning the tide at the last moment, this exchange might not even be happening now. Chinese medicine would have been utterly defeated, unable to hold its head high against Western medicine, watching helplessly as it erodes our foothold!”

As Kong Yun spoke, many of the younger doctors in the audience flushed with shame, bowing their heads. These were the members of the delegation that had been defeated abroad.

Jiang Fei listened intently, his brow furrowing again as he absorbed this revelation.

So, Chinese and Western medicine aren’t just in competition—they’ve been sending exchange delegations for secret ‘academic clashes’?

And Elder Cui—Cui Xiuping’s grandfather—hadn’t just gone abroad to treat a foreign dignitary’s illness, as Ye Zhennan had told him back in Jincheng? He had also stepped in to salvage the TCM delegation’s disastrous performance?

Jiang Fei resisted the urge to ask Cui Xiuping for details and kept listening.

“Last time, we were thoroughly outmatched. We made critical errors—misdiagnoses, failed treatments. There’s no use dwelling on it now; what’s done is done.”

“We could console ourselves by saying we were on foreign soil, disadvantaged by unfamiliarity and poor conditions. But this time, the Western delegation is coming to our turf. Can we afford to lose again?” Kong Yun’s sharp gaze swept across the room.

“No!” a few young voices shouted, faces burning with determination.

“Exactly! If we lose this time, we’ll have no excuses left. We’ll have to admit they’re better. And if we repeat the same fatal mistakes, Western medicine will seize the chance to declare ‘TCM is useless’ or ‘TCM is harmful’—nonsense that could destroy our credibility!”

“If that happens, even in our own country, Chinese medicine will struggle to survive. The legacy of thousands of years will die in our hands. No one will study it. No one will believe in it.”

Despite his portly, unassuming appearance, Kong Yun’s words carried undeniable weight, stirring the crowd into a fervor.

Jiang Fei was surprised. He had expected this symposium to focus on profit-driven schemes, but it seemed these practitioners genuinely cared about preserving TCM—even if their efforts were failing against Western medicine’s relentless advance.

“Since they’re coming, we must fight back. This won’t be a friendly exchange where both sides hold back. This time, we go all out. We’ll select the seven most skilled among us to face the Western delegation.”

“But there’s a catch. The Westerners always send young doctors, forcing us to do the same. So today’s competition will be different: only the younger generation from the three schools and major TCM families will compete. The elders will observe. The top seven will represent Chinese medicine in two weeks!”

The hall erupted in chatter.

No one protested. Instead, the younger doctors buzzed with competitive energy, eager to prove themselves. For them, this wasn’t just a duty—it was an honor.

The older physicians accepted this quietly. Western medicine had an advantage: their young doctors, even mediocre ones, could become competent quickly, while TCM mastery usually required decades of experience. Fortunately, China’s ancient lineages still produced exceptional young talents.

“If there are no objections, let the competition begin!” Kong Yun declared.

“Wait.”

A soft, velvety voice cut through the noise. All eyes turned to the right side of the stage, where Yu Ruzhi of the Fire Spirit School sat in her qipao, smiling.

“Aside from the three schools and major families, I propose adding one more participant.”

Yan Xiping, the bespectacled leader of the Attack Evil School, raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Has Master Yu discovered another prodigy? If you vouch for them, they must be remarkable. Are they here in the capital? Can they join in time?”

Normally, the three schools were rivals, but today, personal grudges were set aside. If Yu Ruzhi had found a talented recruit, no one would oppose it.

“He’s already here.” Yu Ruzhi’s eyes gleamed as they landed on Jiang Fei. “I nominate Jiang Fei of Jincheng—the man who has defeated several of our association’s finest!”

Every gaze followed hers.

Jiang Fei tensed. So, that earlier wink hadn’t been his imagination. Yu Ruzhi knew about him.

But why nominate him now?

Was this a genuine opportunity—or a trap?

And if it was a trap… what was her real goal?