Zhang Fei’s Eighty-One Duels

In his sleep, Luan Yi experienced a strange dream. In it, he had become an emperor, reigning over millions, wearing a golden crown and a robe embroidered with the sacred cross. Under the gaze of countless onlookers, he ascended the divine altar. At his feet, to the left, stood all his old friends: Guo Jia, Xi Zhicai, Shan Fu, Mao Jie, Xun Yu, Xun You, Cheng Yu, and the dark-skinned young Pang Tong. To the right stood the Five Tiger Generals—Zhang Fei, Guan Yu, Zhao Yun, Huang Zhong, Ma Chao—and the Five Elite Generals: Zhang Liao, Yue Jin, Yu Jin, Zhang He, and Xu Huang!

As Luan Yi mounted the altar, the crowd erupted in shouts of "Long live!" The scene was magnificent, and Luan Yi was exhilarated. Just then, Diao Chan approached, holding a wooden box, bowed respectfully, and announced she had brought a gift.

Luan Yi summoned her to his side and opened the box, only to find Cai Yan’s severed head within. Shocked, he was about to demand an explanation when a formidable general clad in golden armor, wielding the Fangtian Halberd, stormed into the altar with a troop, clashing fiercely with the generals inside. The entire place descended into chaos.

Diao Chan seized the moment, drew near to Luan Yi, and, taking advantage of his distraction, pulled out a dagger from her bosom and stabbed at his chest—

Luan Yi jolted awake from the dream, drenched in cold sweat. "So it was just a dream! How could such a bizarre vision have appeared so suddenly?" He glanced about and realized he was lying in an unfamiliar room. Shaking off his dizziness, he remembered having gotten drunk at Zhang Fei’s winery the previous day and sleeping over at Zhang Fei’s house.

While gathering his senses, Luan Yi heard the clanging of weapons from outside, so loud it thundered through the air, certainly audible from half a mile away. But this time, it was not a dream; the sound was real, coming from beyond the room.

He hurriedly dressed and stepped outside to investigate. In the courtyard, Zhang Fei, wielding his snake spear, was locked in combat with Dian Wei, who brandished his twin halberds. They were sparring, testing their martial skills. Zhang Fei held his spear horizontally, shouting as he attacked. Dian Wei, gripping both halberds, roared incessantly. Their battle was lively indeed.

Luan Yi stood at the doorway, quietly observing, gradually discerning the nuances. Dian Wei fought with wide, powerful strokes, relying on sheer strength—much like Luan Yi himself favored brute force. Zhang Fei, however, was more agile; his spear moved with the ferocity of a tiger descending the mountain or the cunning of a serpent emerging from its lair, alternating between speed and finesse, blending hardness and softness in exquisite harmony. Yet, in the face of overwhelming strength, even the most refined technique proved difficult to withstand. After thirty exchanges, Zhang Fei’s fatigue was evident, as Dian Wei’s relentless dual halberds pressed him, leaving Zhang Fei no chance to retaliate, forced only to defend desperately.

Luan Yi was astonished—could the renowned third master Zhang truly be inferior to Dian Wei? He pondered for a while and then understood. According to the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Dian Wei’s valor was unmatched, with later generations judging his prowess comparable to Lü Bu, and any duel between them would be too close to call. Having witnessed Dian Wei’s martial skills firsthand in the Eastern Han, Luan Yi agreed that Dian Wei’s combat ability was extraordinary. Whether he could defeat Lü Bu remained uncertain, but it was clear that few could rival him in that era. However, Luan Yi also noticed a fatal flaw in Dian Wei: his horsemanship was lacking, and he practiced with a pair of short halberds. In ancient mounted combat, the length of a weapon was crucial—every inch mattered—so Dian Wei was at a disadvantage in armament. If fighting on foot, Lü Bu’s long halberd would be less effective, and Dian Wei might prevail. In mounted combat, Dian Wei would not be Lü Bu’s equal.

Today, Zhang Fei encountered the same issue against Dian Wei. His snake spear, long and heavy, was restricted in the relatively confined courtyard, while Dian Wei, a former hunter, was accustomed to all sorts of wild terrain and thrived in such an environment. As a result, Zhang Fei’s defeat was only natural. If both were mounted and fighting on a vast plain, Dian Wei would surely be outmatched.

Yet Zhang Fei was unwilling to lose to Dian Wei so easily. His large, bell-like eyes darted over to Luan Yi, standing beneath the doorway, and, his mind turning quickly, he shouted, "Hey! Brother Ziqi is awake!"

Dian Wei, concerned about Luan Yi’s condition after drinking, instinctively turned to look at him, intending to ask after his health. In that instant, Zhang Fei seized the opportunity to press the blade of his spear against Dian Wei’s neck.

"Heh, heh, old Zhang’s skills are superior after all," Zhang Fei said smugly, his demeanor that of a petty victor.

Dian Wei was indignant, "You cheated!"

"There’s no such thing as cheating on the battlefield!" Zhang Fei withdrew his spear and pursed his lips. "What’s that saying… hmm… ah, right, ‘All’s fair in war,’ all’s fair in war, you understand?"

"I don’t care! You cheated. I refuse to accept it. If you have the guts, fight me again."

Seeing Dian Wei rolling up his sleeves for another bout, Zhang Fei hurriedly made excuses, "Well, old Zhang is tired. Let’s rest for today and fight again another time." Without waiting for Dian Wei, he strode straight toward Luan Yi. "Ah, Brother Ziqi, you’ve sobered up!"

Luan Yi bowed, "Much better. Though my head is still a bit dizzy."

"Just move around and work up a sweat, you’ll be fine," Zhang Fei laughed heartily. "How about it, Ziqi? Will you spar with old Zhang?"

"Eh?" Dian Wei’s eyes widened abruptly. "How shameless can you be? Didn’t you just say you were tired? Now you’re challenging my—" Suddenly remembering Luan Yi’s earlier admonition not to mention the Holy Mother cult, he quickly changed tack, "Now you’re challenging Brother Ziqi. If you still have the energy, spar with me first, then do whatever else!"

Zhang Fei’s dark face reddened, and he replied brightly, "Old Zhang only fights one person a day, and since I’ve already beaten you, I won’t spar with you again today. Besides, I invited Ziqi first; you only asked after. You have to respect the order—you’ll have to wait your turn if you want another match."

Dian Wei, never much of a talker, found himself tangled in Zhang Fei’s clever words, confused and unable to respond, his face flushed with frustration.

Luan Yi hurried forward to smooth things over, saying to Dian Wei, "Having just witnessed Brother Yide’s remarkable skill, I feel inspired and wish to learn a little myself. Brother Dian, let me have a turn first!"

Dian Wei’s expression relaxed considerably, "Then I’ll fetch my lotus hammer."

"Thank you, brother," Luan Yi replied.

Soon, Dian Wei returned from the house, unstrapping a long leather case from his back and carefully unfolding it. Two exquisite, gleaming weapons emerged: one was a hammer, the other a club. The hammer was over four feet long, its body adorned with lifelike carvings of lotus flowers and leaves, especially dense around the grip for slip resistance. The hammerhead formed five lotus blooms, beautifully arranged into an oval. The sharp tips of the blooming petals served as cold, intimidating spikes. The club, also over four feet, featured iron carvings of lotus and leaves, and one end bore a pointed spike, resembling a halved spear. "What kind of weapons are these?"

Luan Yi took the club in his left hand and the hammer in his right, smiling, "These are my own creations, called the Lotus Hammer." He then joined the ends of the hammer and club, twisted them together, and they transformed into a single long spiked hammer nearly ten feet long. With another twist, they separated again into two short weapons.

Zhang Fei, a connoisseur of martial arts and weaponry, immediately understood: the long hammer was ideal for mounted combat, while the two short weapons suited fighting on foot—one weapon, two uses, ingenious indeed. He exclaimed, "The Lotus Hammer is truly extraordinary!"

"The quality of the weapon is secondary; the key lies in the person wielding it. Brother Yide, let us prove ourselves through our hands," Luan Yi declared, wasting no time. He raised the hammer overhead, club and hammer together, and launched a move called ‘Fire Burning the Heavens,’ striking straight at Zhang Fei’s face. "Take this!"

"Good move!" Zhang Fei was delighted, not alarmed, and parried with his spear. With a loud, ringing clash, Luan Yi retreated three steps.

Zhang Fei was forced back three and a half steps, holding his spear, eyes wide. He had intended to use only seventy percent of his strength, thinking Luan Yi young, but had underestimated him. Despite his youth and slender frame, Luan Yi’s strength was astonishing—though not as great as Dian Wei’s, he was only fifteen years old! If he had such power as a youth, how much stronger would he be as a grown man? This realization shocked Zhang Fei; his playful gaze at Luan Yi became much more serious.

"Again, Brother Yide," Luan Yi pressed forward, using his left hand to block Zhang Fei's spear with the club and his right hand to swing the hammer down at Zhang Fei’s head. "Phoenix Nods!"

Zhang Fei, unhurried, spun his spear to deftly avoid the club, sidestepped Luan Yi’s hammer, and retreated, making no counterattack, watching Luan Yi from a distance.

Luan Yi realized Zhang Fei was holding back, and feigned annoyance, "If you keep letting me win, don’t blame me for being rude!"

Zhang Fei laughed, "Haha, I’ll let you three moves. After that, I won’t hold back!"

Luan Yi calculated silently—they’d exchanged two moves already, just one left to fulfill the promise. He pressed ahead, "Fine, three moves. Watch for my third!" He charged, club and hammer raised, and struck fiercely at Zhang Fei’s left. Zhang Fei blocked vertically, and with another loud clang, both retreated—Zhang Fei two steps, Luan Yi three. Regaining his composure, Luan Yi launched another strike at Zhang Fei’s right, using the move he had practiced thousands of times: Wild Horse Parts Its Mane.

"Three moves have passed! Brother Ziqi, be careful—old Zhang won’t show mercy!" With that, Zhang Fei thrust his spear, moving with sudden speed to precisely tap the center of Luan Yi’s lotus hammer, using clever force to divert the incoming blow aside, avoiding it with ease.