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墨書 Inktalez
"Why? Why? Why? What is so good about that jerk? You would actually take a beating for him." His voice grew louder with each question, as if he wanted to vent all the anger boiling inside him through his words.
"It doesn't matter if she uses her hands or feet; as long as she can knock me down, she wins," Yang Qianfan said to He Feng.
Seeing Yang Qianfan like this, He Feng decided not to say anything more and stepped aside to continue overseeing this utterly predictable match.
At that moment, Zhu Hui lunged forward with a punch, but Yang Qianfan was quick enough to dodge, causing Zhu Hui to miss and lose her balance, crashing to the ground. She immediately scrambled back up and charged at him like lightning. Before she could even get close, Yang Qianfan kicked her down again. This kick was particularly forceful, leaving Zhu Hui struggling to rise, clutching her chest and coughing. Despite the pain coursing through her body from the blow, Zhu Hui stubbornly got back on her feet, determined not to let her willpower falter or allow the onlookers to revel in her defeat.
Seeing her stand again, Yang Qianfan stepped forward and kicked her once more. This time, perhaps understanding the need for restraint, his kick was noticeably lighter than before. Yet even so, Zhu Hui's frail body could not withstand the force of his attack, and she fell heavily to the ground again.
After several rounds like this, Zhu Hui was left bruised and barely conscious from the relentless kicks.
"Just give up! I don’t want to keep fighting you; you can never win against me," Yang Qianfan said, gazing deeply at her with furrowed brows.
"So what if I can't?" Zhu Hui struggled to rise from the ground and shot him a cold smile. "Maybe I can't choose to win against you, but I can choose to get back up every time you knock me down."
"You know you can't win against me; what's the point of standing up?"
"The point is that I haven't admitted defeat yet."
"Is it worth getting beaten like this just to avoid admitting you've lost to me?"
"Of course it is."
"Why?"
"Because no one in this world is willing to lose to a scoundrel." Zhu Hui sneered a few times and, taking advantage of his momentary lapse, suddenly lunged at him again. Unfortunately, this time she still missed, tripping over Yang Qianfan's foot and falling to the ground.
Seeing her stubbornness and refusal to admit defeat, Yang Qianfan was furious. He stepped forward and grabbed her, his face contorted with rage as he demanded, "Answer me! You clearly don't know Taekwondo. Why are you challenging me to Taekwondo?"
"You... don't you just enjoy hitting people? I'm... I'm being beaten so badly by you right now; you should... you should find it quite enjoyable," Zhu Hui said with a mocking smile despite being in his grip.
"What did you say? You—" Yang Qianfan's heart jolted uncontrollably at her words, and he exploded with anger. "Why? Why? Is it because of that scoundrel?" he shouted, pointing at Tang Hui in the audience.
Zhu Hui followed his finger and glanced at Tang Hui, weakly nodding her head in acknowledgment.
"Your purpose in challenging me to Taekwondo is just to take a beating for that scoundrel?"
"Y-yes," Zhu Hui nodded with great effort.
The thrill of hitting someone is built on the foundation of the other person fearing the blow. If the opponent willingly accepts the beating, then all pleasure derived from it evaporates into nothingness, leaving only an empty void of disappointment.
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