Chapter Fourteen: The Tiger Bone Ring and Tai Chi Boxing!

Since cockfighting is merely a game, there must naturally be some stakes involved—this is tradition.

“I’m in good spirits today, so I’ll use this as the prize. If any of you have the skill, feel free to win it from me, ha ha!” As he spoke, the old gentleman raised his right thumb, displaying a ring upon it. Its hue was faintly yellow, its patina smooth and lustrous; at first glance, one might mistake it for jade.

Upon closer inspection, however, it was clear this was a rare tiger bone ring. The years of wear had allowed it to absorb the oils from its owner’s skin, transforming it over time until it seemed to have achieved the fabled ‘bone rubbed to jade’ effect.

Moreover, streaks of vivid red ran across the ring—not inherent, but acquired over time: blood seepage.

Moreover, it was human blood, for nothing else could achieve such a brilliant crimson.

In other words, the ring’s former master must have been a battle-hardened general, one who had carved his way out of heaps of corpses and stained his hands again and again with the blood of his foes, forging this ring through countless trials.

A priceless treasure—no amount of money could buy it. But with such a rare blood-stained tiger bone ring as the wager, what could possibly match it?

Li Zhao and Cui Zongzhi exchanged glances; the latter shook his head in resignation. The Duke of Qi’s household possessed plenty of gold and jewels, but none could rival this ring. Besides, he knew well that the ring’s true value was a thousand, ten thousand times greater, for its previous owner was no ordinary man, but a figure akin to a god—a red sun in the hearts of all the tribes under heaven.

What now? The game hadn’t even begun, and they were stumped by the wager—how humiliating was that?

But don’t fret; with a little thought, there’s always a way. And Li Zhao found one: though he lacked rare treasures, he possessed something more precious still.

“Senior, your tiger bone ring is truly beyond price; I have nothing to match it. However, I know a boxing method—perhaps it may be worthy of your consideration.”

“Haha, I’m nearing sixty now; my sinews and blood are not what they once were. I fear boxing is of little use to me.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, Senior. My boxing method is unlike any other—not for brawling or violence, but for strengthening the body. Its effects surpass even Hua Tuo’s ‘Five Animal Frolics’, especially suited for those in their later years. Practiced diligently, it can ward off disease and prolong life!”

“Oh? Truly, it can keep illness at bay and lengthen one’s years?”

The old gentleman’s eyes lit up, filled with longing. For a man of power in his twilight years, what is most precious?

Not rare treasures.

Not fine carriages or beautiful women.

But longevity.

With ample years, one can remain master of the world, command all under heaven, and continue to savor life’s pleasures!

That is why Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu of Han, in their later days, pursued immortality at all costs… The picturesque empire and fair beauties of the harem are indeed hard to leave behind!

If anything could be more important than longevity, it would be power—for a man of rank, losing power would make life not worth living.

But let’s not digress—back to the story!

Li Zhao stepped onto an open patch of ground, feet together, hands at his sides, head held straight, chest and belly relaxed, and then began slowly.

Wild Horse Parts Its Mane!

White Crane Spreads Its Wings!

Brush Knee and Twist Step!

…

Li Zhao wore a white robe today, already giving him a clean, refined air. With this slow, nimble, perfectly balanced boxing method, he seemed almost ethereal—a man among immortals, his bearing superb.

All watched in astonishment, the old gentleman in particular leaping to his feet in excitement: “Young man, what is this boxing method?”

“Yin and Yang in harmony, strength and gentleness combined, rootless and limitless, all methods natural… Tai Chi Boxing!”

“Tai Chi Boxing! What a marvel—truly priceless. I accept the wager!”

The old gentleman nodded, determined. No matter the outcome today, he must acquire this method—warding off disease and prolonging life was exactly what he needed now.

And so, the cockfighting began.

“Master, for the first round—which rooster should we send?”

“Release my White Feather General.”

“Yes, sir!”

The old gentleman’s attendants moved forward, marking out a circular arena on the ground with rope, about fifteen feet across. Then they released a fighting rooster, pure white from head to toe, not a single stray feather. Its beak was sharp, its legs long, its spirit fierce—it truly had a general’s bearing.

“White Bun, bring out our ‘Katyusha’ and let it face their White Feather General.”

“Yes, sir.”

Li Zhao’s roosters all had nicknames, but their meanings were known only to him.

White Bun brought out a black-feathered rooster and placed it in the ring.

“Cluck—cluck!”

“Good! Peck him, peck him!”

As soon as the black and white roosters met, they clashed fiercely—pecking, kicking, flapping, and sweeping, feathers flying everywhere, neither yielding an inch.

The crowd shouted encouragement, urging their side’s rooster on.

‘This is bad—finished!’ Li Zhao thought.

Though the two roosters battled fiercely and the outcome was still unclear, Li Zhao saw the truth: his black-feathered rooster was in dire straits.

To be fair, his roosters were just as well-trained as the old gentleman’s, their strength evenly matched, victory a fifty-fifty chance.

But his roosters had only been in Chang’an for a few days, struggling to adapt, their spirits low, fighting strength greatly diminished. Now, facing such a formidable opponent, victory was out of reach.

Sure enough, after dozens more rounds, the black-feathered rooster started to falter, suffering several wounds, blood dripping… Yet its fierce spirit remained, fighting desperately, willing to die in the ring rather than flee.

“Stop… I concede this round!”

Li Zhao had raised these roosters himself, forming deep bonds; he could not let them die for the sake of a single victory.

He promptly admitted defeat, lifted the black-feathered rooster from the ring, checked its wounds, applied medicine, soothed it, and returned it to its cage.

“Congratulations, Master! A victorious start. For the second round, which rooster shall we send?”

“Let my Hussar General enter.”

“Yes, sir!”

Having won the first round, the old gentleman was pleased. He sent for an orange-feathered rooster, equally robust and spirited, even surpassing the previous white one.

On the other side, Li Zhao was troubled. Surveying the situation, he knew that whichever rooster he sent next, defeat was almost certain.

If he lost again, the match would be over.

What to do? How to turn the tide… It seems only extraordinary measures would suffice.

“White Bun, bring out our ‘Desert Eagle’… and be careful!”

“Understood!”

After years together, Li Zhao and White Bun understood each other perfectly—a mere glance sufficed.

White Bun brought out a red-feathered rooster and, as he turned, stealthily took some white powder from his pocket and rubbed it onto the red rooster’s body before placing it in the ring.

“Cluck—cluck!”

An incredible scene unfolded: as soon as the red rooster entered, the proud orange rooster was startled, retreating several steps, squawking in fear…

The red rooster seized the moment, launching a fierce attack—pecking and clawing. The orange rooster dodged left and right, forced to fight, but the outcome was inevitable… After just a dozen rounds, the orange rooster fled the ring, crying pitifully, clearly terrified!

Seeing this, the old gentleman and the beardless elder exchanged bewildered glances. How could they lose?

Li Zhao and White Bun, meanwhile, celebrated gleefully, though a hint of cunning showed in their smiles.

Someone asked what miraculous elixir Li Zhao had used to help the red rooster win.

The answer: not a miracle, but powdered bones of weasels and foxes.

Chickens fear weasels and foxes most. So, when Li Zhao’s fighting roosters were young, he would place weasel and fox bones, fur, and droppings near their coop, slowly acclimating them to the scent until they no longer feared it.

Other roosters lacked this advantage; at the first whiff of weasel or fox, they were terrified, doomed to defeat.

Thus, the score was tied: one to one.

Now, the third round—the decider!

“Master, what should we do?”

“A slip is nothing to fuss over. For the final round, let my Golden Feather Emperor enter.”

“Yes, sir!”

The beardless elder brought forth a fighting rooster—robust, its comb bright red, legs strong, claws sharp as blades… Its feathers were pure gold, gleaming in the sunlight like a golden phoenix.

If the other roosters were fine specimens, then this Golden Feather Emperor was the finest of all.

Li Zhao, sharp-eyed, examined the Golden Feather Emperor and immediately concluded that none of his roosters stood a chance—even tricks wouldn’t work, the gap was simply too great.

There was no choice but to play his trump card: “White Bun, bring out our Fiery Phoenix!”

“Yes, sir!”