Chapter 86: Dance of the Dragon—This Is a Man's Dance

“Three-Second Fast Man Wan Sifan…”

“Young Master Wan’s two-centimeter super-sized little ding-ding…”

“You’ll never know a man’s happiness, nor can you give a woman hers…”

Listening to the tide of mockery and ridicule from the audience below, Wan Sifan was on the verge of collapse. At this moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation.

As the young master of the Wan family, when had he ever not shone brilliantly, surrounded by admiration, dazzling wherever he went, an object of envy and jealousy? When had he ever suffered such disgrace as today?

Wan Sifan couldn’t understand how his luck had turned so rotten today.

His mighty roc had always been impressive, more than enough to delight three thousand beauties in a single night. Which woman hadn’t been sent to cloud nine by him? How had it suddenly shrunk into a pitiful little thing?

Could it be that… that he would never again satisfy the beauties of his harem?

No, no, no…

Wan Sifan threw his head back and howled, desperate and on the verge of tears.

Seeing this wealthy heir collapse in humiliation, Chen Yufeng was secretly delighted. He walked over and patted Wan Sifan’s head in mock consolation:

“Young Master Wan, don’t feel inferior, be strong! Though your little thing is only two centimeters, you should confidently tell them that you’re not a three-second man—at least, you can last three minutes…”

“You… you’re courting death!”

Just the sight of Chen Yufeng infuriated Wan Sifan. It was all because of this country bumpkin that he had been so thoroughly embarrassed.

How dare he mock him?

He swore to turn Chen Yufeng into a eunuch today, so he would never again be a man.

He, Wan Sifan, could always pay for treatment—medical technology was so advanced, there was nothing to fear. But if this bumpkin became a eunuch, let’s see what he could do then. If a woman stripped naked before him, all he could do would be to stare helplessly.

He wanted to see him become the laughingstock instead.

Fuming inside, Wan Sifan shot a cold glance at Chen Yufeng and shouted to the dozen or so errand boys below the stage:

“All of you, get up here and give this bumpkin a good beating! Whoever kicks him into a eunuch gets a hefty reward from me!”

“We’re coming, Young Master Wan…”

Delighted, fourteen or fifteen errand boys immediately rushed the stage, surrounding Chen Yufeng with aggressive shouts and threats. To the onlookers below, it looked like a pack of hungry wolves closing in on a helpless lamb.

The thrill was palpable—beating someone up for money without having to take responsibility if anything happened. This was the privilege of following Young Master Wan, and it felt damn good.

“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Everyone stop! Stop! Don’t cause trouble…”

Chaos reigned onstage. The three judges hurriedly tried to restore order, and the seven or eight security guards rushed over to intervene. But under Wan Sifan’s threats, none dared step onto the stage to interfere.

Who would dare stand in the way of the Wan family’s young master?

The crowd below was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, even fueling the commotion with cheers and shouts—many happy to stir the pot.

“Damn it, you idiot, you’ve pissed off Young Master Wan! You’re dead! Take my Coiling Dragon Palm—!”

“Bumpkin, I’ll punch you into a pig’s head! Demacia’s power!”

“Watch me, Young Master Wan! I’ll kick this guy into a lifelong bachelor—taste my Heaven-Shaking Childless Kick!”

With their numbers, the errand boys didn’t take the ordinary-looking Chen Yufeng seriously at all. He wasn’t tall or imposing—what kind of fight could he possibly put up?

They were all college students, and though their shouted moves sounded fierce, in reality their punches and kicks were a disorganized mess. Still, they exuded confidence, ready to pummel this clueless bumpkin.

Against an ordinary person, their combined force would certainly be overwhelming.

But facing a freak like Chen Yufeng, they were in for a beating.

Chen Yufeng wasn’t about to stand idly by and let himself get thrashed. As Wan Sifan’s cronies surged toward him, he couldn’t help but smirk. Sorry, guys, I don’t like bullying people, but you’re practically offering yourselves up.

I’d be remiss not to accept.

Secretly pleased, Chen Yufeng quickly spent 10 points to exchange for “Heroic Spartan Possession” and “Dance Master Possession.”

The Spartan Possession instantly made Chen Yufeng feel his fighting spirit soar—blood boiling, itching for a fight. Unable to contain himself, he bellowed at the group of young men:

“Come at me, you rabble! SPARTA!”

Meanwhile, the Dance Master Possession drove his body to perform all sorts of dazzling, high-difficulty moves.

Let’s make this a masterpiece of combat, a dance for men…

Whoosh—

Suddenly, Chen Yufeng leapt two or three meters into the air, as if defying gravity. Like the Monkey King somersaulting through the clouds, he flipped several times mid-air, then landed in a striking, graceful handstand—not so much landing as balancing on two fingers of his right hand.

Twisting his legs, he spun a full three hundred and sixty degrees, sweeping his powerful legs out in an arc—knocking down three or four people in one move.

“Whoa, my God…”

“What… what in the world is this?!”

In an instant, the entire audience was stunned.

As the crowd gaped in shock, and under the influence of the Dance Master, Chen Yufeng continued to perform all sorts of spectacular, impossibly difficult moves. Sometimes leaping and flipping through the air, sometimes spinning and jumping, sometimes soaring above the ground…

Not only were his moves incredibly difficult, but they exuded a dominance, grandeur, and seamless fluidity that was exhilarating, awe-inspiring, and beyond words.

It was as if a dragon were dancing, or a tiger leaping.

At that moment, everyone present was struck by a natural realization: if women’s dances were meant to be graceful and ethereal, then men’s dances should be like this.

Not the effeminate dances of those K-pop idol groups.

If one said this youth was performing martial arts, it didn’t quite fit—no one could jump two or three meters into the air from a standstill, flip effortlessly in mid-air, then land in a spinning two-finger handstand.

But if it wasn’t martial arts, why was it so devastatingly powerful?

Just moments ago, fourteen or fifteen strapping youths had boasted of beating him senseless. Now, in the face of his fluid, dazzling moves, they were all sprawled across the floor, groaning in pain within minutes.

For those two minutes, the two thousand onlookers watched in a state of utter shock.

So stunned, in fact, that they forgot to even exclaim. They could only stare in slack-jawed amazement at the youth’s every move on stage.

Chen Yufeng’s actions challenged their understanding of the human body’s limits, overturned their perceptions of dance, and struck their souls again and again…

[Apologies for the late update, brothers, but I’ll do my best to keep to a minimum of three chapters a day. Thanks to your strong support, the book’s performance is quite good—among books released at the same time, aside from the new alt accounts of the top authors, it’s ranked in the top ten across all major platforms, and even in the top five or top three on a few. This is all thanks to your bookmarks, recommendations, and rewards. Since I’m not a big-name author, I can’t get the editors’ favor or early recommendations—just the main site push for now, though that’s already a lot. Recommendations on the bookstore front page usually wait until two or three hundred thousand words; right now this book is nearing two hundred thousand. If the results hold, the official bookstore recommendation will come even faster. When that happens, I’ll go all out with updates every day, so please keep supporting the book. For now, I’ll do my best to keep up three chapters daily. Thank you all—your every recommendation counts. I need your support to carve out a bloody path for this book. Your support is my motivation to fight on… Thank you, thank you, thank you!]