The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 267
When Ye Yuanyuan heard Jiang Fei declare that he would proactively go to Huacheng to challenge Miyamoto Kazuma, she was alarmed.
She had come today to inform Jiang Fei—to prepare him mentally—not to spur him into immediately challenging Miyamoto. This was the exact opposite of what she intended!
“What on earth are you thinking?” Ye Yuanyuan demanded, her already large eyes widening further.
Jiang Fei replied coolly, “I’m just eager to meet this so-called master of the two-sword style.”
“You’re letting anger cloud your judgment—this is about avenging Liu Yunduo, isn’t it?” Ye Yuanyuan said sharply. “I know you’re skilled, but Miyamoto’s swordsmanship is beyond what you expect! Even Wang Haoran, the ‘Southern Sword Master,’ died at his hands. Isn’t that warning enough for you?”
Miyamoto Kazuma had spent over a decade in seclusion, previously little-known. But now, he had arrived in China with an invincible aura, intent on crushing the Chinese swordsmanship world. His reputation had undergone a drastic shift after he crippled Liu Yunduo and killed Wang Haoran. Many in the martial arts community paled at the mere mention of his name. For Jiang Fei to challenge him now was practically asking for trouble!
Yet Jiang Fei remained unfazed. “I won’t deny it—I do want to avenge Liu Yunduo,” he admitted coldly. “His methods enrage me, and I intend to teach him a lesson.”
“You—” Ye Yuanyuan was left speechless.
This man always had a way of leaving people stunned—whether by his words or actions.
After a long pause, she finally sighed in frustration. “Are you really confident you can defeat Miyamoto?”
Had she known Jiang Fei would react like this, she wouldn’t have bothered coming to inform him at all.
“I never act without certainty. And I don’t gamble with my life. Do I strike you as someone with a death wish?” Jiang Fei smiled, radiating confidence. He could tell Ye Yuanyuan was genuinely concerned for him.
But Miyamoto Kazuma? He absolutely had to face him.
Perhaps before, he had hesitated, unwilling to involve himself in martial arts feuds. But upon hearing that Miyamoto had not only crippled Liu Yunduo but also disfigured her, Jiang Fei’s fury burned uncontrollably. And now that Miyamoto was systematically challenging China’s top swordsmen—with Jiang Fei himself on the list—what choice did he have?
If a fight was inevitable, Jiang Fei might as well grant him his wish sooner rather than later.
He didn’t know the extent of Miyamoto’s skill or how formidable his two-sword style truly was. But he had absolute faith in his own Dugu Nine Swords.
Since Miyamoto was cutting a bloody swath through China, acting as if no one could stop him, Jiang Fei was determined to show him otherwise.
Moreover, if Miyamoto had defeated Liu Yunduo, he must be an expert who had cultivated inner strength. And Jiang Fei’s North Sea Divine Art was practically thirsting for such an opponent.
Finding someone in China who had mastered inner energy—and who also deserved his wrath—was no easy task. Miyamoto, this demon who had delivered himself to Jiang Fei’s doorstep, was too perfect a target to ignore.
As for why Jiang Fei mentioned heading to Huacheng anyway—he wanted to check on Liu Yunduo’s injuries and see if there was any hope of recovery. He had confidence in his medical skills, and with the help of his system’s pharmacy, he might just find a way to treat her wounds.
This girl, who had sworn to avenge her father and defeat Japanese swordsmanship while wearing embroidered shoes, had moved him. He wanted to help her.
Seeing Jiang Fei’s resolve, Ye Yuanyuan knew persuasion was futile. Frowning, she said, “I don’t know if this is confidence or arrogance. But I urge you to think carefully before challenging Miyamoto. Even if you insist on fighting him, why not wait until after his duel with Taoist Master Qingxu of Wudang? At least then, you’d have a better understanding of his swordsmanship.”
Touched by her concern—despite her usually cold demeanor—Jiang Fei grinned and teased, “Comrade Ye Yuanyuan, that kind of thinking is dangerous. As a soldier, shouldn’t you know the principle: ‘Those who dare offend China’s might, no matter how distant, shall be punished’? How can we, proud sons and daughters of this land, cower in fear?”
Ignoring his nonsense, Ye Yuanyuan asked seriously, “When do you plan to go to Huacheng?”
Jiang Fei exhaled, squaring his shoulders. “I can hardly wait. Let’s leave tomorrow morning. You seem invested in this—is the government monitoring these martial arts conflicts? Are you coming with me?”
Without explaining, she simply said, “I’ll be there.”
“Great. Book the flights for me while you’re at it,” Jiang Fei said with a laugh.
But as his laughter faded, his eyes turned icy again.
Miyamoto Kazuma… I may no longer be a hot-blooded nationalist, nor do I live by ‘punishing all who offend China.’ But since you’ve gone too far, barging onto our turf, how can I stand by and let you mock us?
Let’s see if you can really kill me.
…..
Huacheng International Hospital
This hospital was obscure among the general public but renowned among the wealthy. Its medical facilities and expertise were among the finest in China, particularly in trauma and dermatology.
After Liu Yunduo’s injury, Su Mengnan and others had rushed her here.
BANG!
In a doctor’s office, Su Mengnan slammed his fist on the desk, his eyes red with fury.
A bespectacled middle-aged doctor sighed helplessly. “Mr. Su, we’ve done all we can. Normally, severed tendons can be reconnected within six to eight hours with a high chance of full recovery. But Miss Liu’s injury isn’t ordinary—it’s not one cut, but two. Her hand… there’s no fixing it.”
“Useless!” Su Mengnan roared. “If her right hand can’t be healed, consider yourselves fired!”
Even if you fire me, I still can’t perform miracles, the doctor thought bitterly. Not even the legendary Hua Tuo could undo such damage.
Miyamoto had intended to cripple Liu Yunduo permanently—ensuring she could never wield a sword again. A simple tendon cut would have been reparable, but he had made sure to destroy any chance of recovery.
After venting his rage, Su Mengnan demanded, “What about her face? Can’t you at least restore that? You turn ugly women into beauties every day—how can two scars be impossible to fix?”
The doctor swallowed hard. “Miss Liu’s injury is different from standard cosmetic cases. We can minimize the scarring with advanced treatments, but complete restoration… isn’t possible. There will always be faint marks.”
BANG!
Another outburst later, Su Mengnan stormed out, heading straight for the VIP ward. He was furious—not only had he failed to avenge Liu Yunduo through force, but now even medicine couldn’t help her.
As he approached her room, he spotted movement inside and snapped at a nurse, “I said no visitors! Are you trying to get fired?”
The nurse flinched. “B-but that’s Dr. Jiang inside…”
“Dr. Jiang? What quack now?” Su Mengnan shoved the door open, ready to throw the intruder out—only to freeze mid-step.
His anger evaporated, replaced by stunned hope.
Of course! If the hospital’s doctors were useless, there was still one person who might save Liu Yunduo.
Jiang Fei wasn’t just a swordsmanship prodigy—he was China’s undisputed top physician.
…..
Jiang Fei sat by the bed, fingers pressed to Liu Yunduo’s wrist, his expression grave.
Her head was wrapped in bandages, leaving only her eyes, nose, and mouth visible. She stared at him anxiously, her voice trembling as she asked, “Jiang Fei… can my hand be saved?”
She didn’t ask about her face—only her hand.
For most women, beauty would be the priority. A crippled hand, while inconvenient, wouldn’t be life-altering.
But for Liu Yunduo, even disfigurement was preferable to losing her sword arm. Without it, her skills were gone—and with them, any hope of vengeance.
She dreaded his answer.
Yet reality was cruel.
Jiang Fei sighed. “Your face… I have medicine that can heal the scars completely. But your tendons… I don’t have a solution yet.”