ADTCP Ch63

The Chinese restaurant was only a kilometer from the hotel, and with Zhu Wensheng and Tao Zhen’s quick pace, the food was still hot when they got back.

The moment they opened the containers, the fragrant, spicy aroma of red chili oil burst forth. Meat slices glistening with spices looked mouthwateringly inviting. Hearing the news, Li Min and the others rushed over, their hungry eyes flashing green as they descended on the food like wolves, snatching it up and dividing it amongst themselves.

Tao Zhen was hungry too, but his mind kept circling back to what that goateed man had said. He forced himself to hold back instead of joining in, turning his gaze toward Zhu Wensheng.

The dishes on the table were so delicious they made one lose all reason, but Zhu Wensheng seemed completely unmoved. He didn’t even sit at the table. Instead, he picked up the meal box prepared by his nutritionist.

Inside were broccoli, cabbage, beef, shrimp, goji berry water, and a cordyceps soup… healthy, bland, utterly unappetizing.

Was this really all Zhu Wensheng ate?

Li Min noticed Tao Zhen staring blankly and gave his shoulder a pat, teasing:
“What are you spacing out for? If you don’t hurry up and sit down, there won’t be anything left to eat!”

Tao Zhen snapped back to his senses, nodded at Li Min, and went to sit with her at the table. But when he picked up his chopsticks, he hesitated again.

Under the puzzled looks of the others, he turned, tiptoed over to Zhu Wensheng, and picked up a spare healthy meal box at his side, muttering softly:
“…I want to eat what you’re eating.”

Zhu Wensheng was taken aback and answered honestly:
“This isn’t good.”

Wasn’t it precisely because Tao Zhen didn’t want to eat Western food that he’d worked so hard to pack food from outside? How did he come back only to suddenly want diet meals?

“It’s fine, I just want to try…”

Tao Zhen spoke quickly, stuffing a bite of nearly tasteless broccoli into his mouth. His delicate face wrinkled ever so slightly.

“Do people who train… usually have to eat like this?”

Zhu Wensheng lowered his eyes and silently picked the broccoli back out of Tao Zhen’s bowl, his voice quiet:
“Not this strict, but yes, less oil, less salt.”

Tao Zhen made a muffled “mm,” then shoved in a piece of oil-less beef, his heart bubbling with sourness.

No one said you had to have a body like a pro bodybuilder to watch MMA matches, or to like Zhu Wensheng. But to be able to learn from him, to train himself into something equally strong…

Well, he had to admit, that goateed foreigner really was a loyal fan of Zhu Wensheng.

***
After this welcoming meal, Zhu Wensheng officially began his week of pre-fight training.

The process of international competitions was far more complex than domestic ones, the difficulty greater too. Opponents were no longer nameless rookies but world-ranked heavy hitters. Strategy planning was more important than ever.

The coaches had already begun targeted analysis of his opponent long ago. Now, during his water break after warmups, they once again projected his opponent’s match footage and explained tirelessly:

“Watch Osborne’s stance here… did you catch that movement? He’s a southpaw, so he habitually strikes from his dominant hand.”

“Look at this left straight, this is his signature move!”

“Alright, Coach Liu, go demonstrate. Yes, try to mimic Osborne’s motion… No, that’s wrong! Do it again.”

Just a single movement, yet they drilled it again and again, countless repetitions. The point was to break Zhu Wensheng’s natural reactions and build conditioned reflexes against that attack.

Tao Zhen, meanwhile, imagined the goateed man as his sparring partner and flailed along at the side with serious mimicry. Before long, his arms were too sore to lift, and he collapsed onto the sofa, panting as his thoughts drifted.

Li Min came in with water. Seeing him like that, she laughed:
“See how boring their training is? There’s an arcade downstairs. Why don’t you go kill some time there instead?”

Tao Zhen forced himself upright, accepted the water, and took two gulps. His cheeks puffed as he shook his head, muttering casually:
“Does Ah-Sheng… always train like this?”

“No, of course not,” Li Min changed tone, “He usually trains much harder.”

Tao Zhen froze.

“After all, the fight’s soon. He has to prep for weight cutting, so he needs to control his body…”

Seeing Tao Zhen’s frown, Li Min quickly reassured him:
“Don’t worry. He’s fought so many matches. He’s long since used to it, he knows what he’s doing.”

But Tao Zhen pressed his lips shut, saying nothing. His arm at his side felt heavier than before.

When he looked up again, in his eyes there was only Zhu Wensheng’s figure, no trace of the arrogant, muscle-flaunting goateed man.

***

Several days of targeted training later, with a water intake maintained at four to eight liters, on the second-to-last day before the fight, Zhu Wensheng began weight cutting to prepare for the weigh-in.

Tao Zhen had never seen a fighter cut weight up close. Back during the VCC matches, he had only heard Zhu Wensheng mention it casually. He hadn’t realized it was this dangerous, summer was already sweltering, and most people hid in air-conditioned rooms to avoid heatstroke.

But fighters preparing for matches had to do the opposite: steaming in saunas, biking in sweat suits, unable to drink more than 200 ml of water all day, relying on oxygen at night just to maintain stability.

If one’s constitution was even slightly weaker, they might collapse before ever stepping into the cage.

At last, they endured to the next day’s weigh-in. Cameras clicked, reporters filled the hall, hostesses moved about, voices buzzing. The atmosphere was hot and tense. Tao Zhen broke into cold sweat on Zhu Wensheng’s behalf, more nervous than during his own college entrance exam. Standing with the coaches, he waited anxiously until the number flashed on the scale, success!

Tao Zhen’s heart surged with relief, but before he could exhale fully, he remembered an even greater trial ahead. His heart leapt back into his throat.

Finally, July 10 arrived: UFC Los Angeles Fight Night.

The arena was packed. Some fans were Chinese who had flown in from abroad, but most were Western faces, shouting and cheering, yelling the fighters’ names.

Inside the cage, darkness loomed, colored lights flashing across the stage. Two fighters entered, shirtless, clad only in shorts, muscles defined and powerful. The host delivered his signature opening line, instantly igniting the crowd, before the cameras swung to focus on the two men.

First came Osborne, a thick-lipped black fighter, shorter but his muscles like forged iron, gleaming and dense. He grinned savagely into the lens, baring his teeth. Nicknamed “the Iron-Chin King” back in China, his mere appearance set off a wave of deafening cheers.

Then, the camera panned to Zhu Wensheng. He didn’t throw out provocative gestures like Osborne. He only lifted his eyes briefly at the camera, then calmly adjusted his fingerless gloves. His expression was slightly sharp.

Compared to the seasoned Osborne, already a veteran, Zhu Wensheng was just an unfamiliar, fresh-faced Oriental fighter. And this was his UFC debut. The audience gave him cheers and shouts, but also doubt.

At the cage-side, Tao Zhen cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with all his might,
“Fight!”

The match officially began. The arena dimmed, overhead lights carving out the cold, sharp silhouette of the young man on stage.

Days of controlled diet, targeted training, dehydration, recovery… all that suppression fell away in this moment, his violent ferocity unleashed in full.

Zhu Wensheng shed the calm, indifferent façade he usually wore and revealed the beast within, fierce as a lion loosed from its cage. Sweeping strikes, counterpunches, ground grappling and pinning, one heavy fist shattered Osborne’s provocations and arrogance.

A standard UFC fight had three rounds, five minutes each.

But Osborne didn’t last. Barely two and a half minutes into the first round, he was knocked out cold by Zhu Wensheng, collapsing unconscious to the mat as the medical team rushed in.

For a second the arena fell utterly silent. Then, thunderous applause broke out, cheers and screams from the crowd and commentators rising like a tidal wave.

“So what if he’s the ‘Iron-Chin King’? If I knock you out, who cares if you’re iron, or if you’re legendary?”

In the stands, the goateed man bellowed Zhu Wensheng’s nickname at the top of his lungs, his voice one against ten. Tao Zhen, finally snapping to his senses, tilted his head back, eyes shining, and shouted Zhu Wensheng’s name with all his might.

The spotlight illuminated the young man in the cage. The next instant, he lowered his head, gaze cutting through the crowd until it landed precisely on Tao Zhen. The cold ferocity on his face melted, replaced, briefly, by a gentle smile.

Tao Zhen’s chest swelled with a rush of emotion, his nose stinging inexplicably.

During the VCC finals, he had also stood here like this.

But back then, he’d only seen Zhu Wensheng’s victory, never the effort that came before it.

***
After the fight, there were still official procedures.

As a fighter, Zhu Wensheng was supposed to undergo a medical check and face the media. But since a three-round match had been compressed into under five minutes, the host was still rambling through sponsor ads while the arena buzzed with chaos. Seizing the chance, Tao Zhen and the others slipped off together into the lounge.

They had won. Everyone’s faces were bright with joy, more exhilarated than students stepping out of the college entrance exam hall. Even the doctor examining Zhu Wensheng was infected by their cheer. Setting down his equipment, he said:

“If not for professional duty, after seeing that KO I wouldn’t have even bothered with a thorough exam… He’s fine, nothing wrong. Go on, tidy up and head to the celebration banquet.”

Good-natured laughter rang out as the group filed from the lounge. Li Min and the others decided to split up, Zhu Wensheng would face the barrage of reporters while they went ahead to reserve tables at the restaurant.

Tao Zhen was supposed to go with them. But he hesitated, then abruptly changed his mind.
“You guys go first. I’ll stay with Ah-Sheng. We’ll come once he’s done.”

Coach Liu, honest to a fault, reflexively objected:
“Are you sure? No need to keep him company, it’s just media stuff, boring questions. You could just- ”

Before he could finish, Li Min cut him off with a knowing squint and a smile. She deliberately stressed her words:
“Alright then, you two stay busy. I’ll send you the address later, don’t forget to come, just the two of you.”

The coach looked hesitant, about to say more, but Li Min dragged him away. Faintly, their voices drifted back, her playful mention of a “two-person world,” and the coach’s sudden, enlightened exclamation.

“…Of course not!”

Tao Zhen felt wronged, as if his reputation had been tarnished. It wasn’t as if they were so desperate they’d start pawing at each other backstage after a fight!

Afraid Zhu Wensheng might think so too, he quickly grabbed his wrist and shook it.
“Ah-Sheng, actually I wanted to ask… could you give me an autograph?”

His golden hair caught the light as he tilted his face up, dark eyes shimmering with hazy reflections, like stars scattered across the night sky.

“I want to give it to a fan of yours. Is that alright?”

For a moment, Zhu Wensheng seemed drawn into those eyes, dazed. He suddenly recalled all of Tao Zhen’s oddities in recent days, mentioning he wanted to start training, choosing diet meals over flavorful dishes, exhausting himself with clumsy punches in the training room…

After a pause, Zhu Wensheng asked quietly: “…Did someone say something to you?”

Tao Zhen’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Zhu Wensheng to guess so quickly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he found a golden marker and an unopened team jersey, handed them to Zhu Wensheng, and waited until his name was signed across it. Only then did he sneak out through the staff passage, looping back to the audience. Pointing toward the goateed man sitting in the stands with his friends, Tao Zhen finally explained.

“Actually, he wasn’t wrong. He saw me in the team uniform and thought I was a crazy stalker fan who’d stolen it. That’s why he lectured me, that if I really liked you, I should learn from you.”

Ah, so that’s what it was.

Zhu Wensheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You don’t need, ”

“At first, I thought so too!”

Tao Zhen cut him off, already knowing what he would say.

“Liking you doesn’t mean I have to become just like you. And I don’t have much talent for training or fighting.”

“But he reminded me, if I really like you, then I should understand the things you love. I should know how hard it is for you…”

Tao Zhen’s voice grew earnest: “Otherwise, who’s going to feel heartache for you?”