Mike was at a loss. "Crack!" Another loud slap landed on the other side of his face, even louder than the first—one that sent drops of blood splattering to the ground. "Go! Get it off! Or I'll take your life!" The strong Black man drew a sharp dagger from his waist and pressed it firmly against Mike's chest. Americans truly fear death—because they hold their lives more precious than gold. Mike now completely yielded, walking obediently toward Julie, his eyes downcast, his hands trembling as he pulled at his short skirt. Julie wept, thinking this was pure fate's cruelty. Dana couldn't bear it anymore. She loudly scolded the strong Black man, only to realize that at the very moment when she needed him most, danger had struck her. The strong Black man suddenly became utterly captivated by Dana—such a stunningly beautiful woman, truly one-of-a-kind in all of America! And when he glanced at Julie, how could she possibly compare? If I can just have a good chat with her today, I won't have wasted my life. Daydreaming like this, he suddenly came up with a devilish idea that would make everyone around him complain—he insisted that Mike stop moving and insisted on having Mike and Julie take photos facing him and Donna. He wanted to stage a genuine, passionate, head-to-head conquest of the women. The strong Black man taking on the white woman immediately drew a crowd of onlookers. Donna felt helpless, realizing Mike and Julie were both weak, yet she would never let the strong Black man win—she would die rather than lose her dignity. So, as the strong Black man tore off her outer dress, she clutched her chest with both hands. The man smiled with a sly, confident air, one strong black arm reaching toward her lower body. No one moved to help—everyone stood there, motionless, like spectators frozen in place. Donna felt utterly defeated. With tears streaming down her face, she closed her eyes, whispering softly, "Dad! Mom! I can no longer fulfill my duty to you. Here, I bid you farewell forever!" "As soon as the words were finished, just as Daina was about to bite her tongue to die, she heard a piercing cry. Daina snapped her eyes open—what on earth was going on? There, the black man's hand extended toward her, blood streaming freely. Looking at the gathering crowd, she saw a handsome Chinese young man holding a sharp Swiss military knife, standing firm and resolute against the powerful black man. Wow! It's Gao Liang! He's here! At this moment, seeing Gao Liang, Daina felt a surge of hope—no, she had to live! She had to live well! 'Ms. Daina! I'm sorry I came late—I'm so glad to see you're safe!' Gao Liang said politely. Daina's sapphire eyes blinked a few times, touched by an inexplicable emotion. Before Daina could speak, the strong black man had already erupted like a great beast, roaring, 'You attacked me without warning! Today, I'm taking your life!' "Having said that, he charged straight toward Gao Liang like a mountain of black stone. Gao Liang, quick-witted and agile, swiftly pushed Dai Mengna aside, safely clearing her path. The intense and heart-pounding battle began. Though Gao Liang had already ascended to godhood, he was utterly surprised—having come to the U.S. and turned off his divine abilities and martial arts, he now found himself unable to activate them at will. Thus, at present, he was merely an ordinary human. Already knocked to the ground by the powerful black man, Gao Liang endured the pain and managed to rise again, only to be kicked down once more by the same strong figure. This development left Gao Liang even more astonished. He could never have imagined that, as a distinguished martial sovereign of the divine realm and a guardian deity of the gods, a celestial protector of unparalleled status, he would be humiliated by a mere mortal black man. Damn it—during that marathon race, not only had he turned off his divine powers, but he had also 'frozen' the martial arts of the Shaolin Temple. This was the first time Gao Liang had experienced a kind of 'shock'—like Dai Mengna watched as the strong Black man brutally kicked Gao Liang to the ground, his heart aching with pain. Mike and Julie couldn't bear to watch any longer. The crowd grew concerned, and Dai quickly dialed the emergency number. A dramatic scene unfolded: every time Gao Liang struggled to rise, the strong Black man would deliver a fierce kick. Everyone felt the pain, yet could do nothing. Only one Japanese man stood out—he saw Gao Liang's bloodied and battered state and burst into laughter, shouting, "As long as you admit that the Chinese are not as good as the Japanese, I'll make him stop!" "Never!" Gao Liang firmly spat out the two words through clenched teeth. "Ah!" Gao Liang cried out in pain—his strong Black opponent had now stepped firmly on his chest and twisted his body hard, causing Gao Liang to cough up a mouthful of blood. "Just say that the Chinese are not as good as us Black people, and I'll stop!" The strong Black man, now imitating the Japanese, grew furious. "You'll never get away with it!" As the strong Black man struck high-light in the abdomen, he struggled to utter those words: "I'm done with him!" Just as the Black man raised the dagger to plunge it into high-light, sirens wailed continuously, and dozens of police officers pointed their blank guns at him. Fearing for his life, the Black man dropped the dagger with a clink, raised both hands, and was handcuffed. Three officers escorted him onto the police car. A well-dressed American officer quickly clarified the situation on the scene. He looked at the unyielding high-light lying on the ground and gave him a solid thumbs-up, praising, "High-light, great job! You Chinese are truly remarkable!" After speaking, he extended his right hand to shake high-light's, but high-light did not reach out. Instead, he struggled to rise on his own, only to fall short each time. Dai Mengna couldn't bear it anymore. She extended her delicate hands, pleading with Gao Huang not to be so silly, but Gao Huang acted as if he didn't recognize her at all, stopping her with a firm voice, his teeth clicking loudly, struggling with great determination to rise. Amid the cheers of the crowd, Gao Huang finally stood up. "The Chinese have stood up!" one Chinese exclaimed. "The Chinese are amazing! The Chinese never give up!" another Chinese clapped and cheered. "Gao Huang! You're wonderful!" Dai Mengna didn't reach out to help him; instead, she watched him with admiration, praising him warmly. Mike and Julie said at the same time, "Gao Huang, you've shown us what the Chinese are truly like! The Chinese will never be defeated!" In the Chinatown of San Francisco, more than a dozen Chinese young men lifted Gao Huang, threw him into the air, caught him, then tossed him again—pride and pride filled them at having such a Chinese man as their own. The director of the Chinese Community Center in San Francisco came over and invited Gao Liang and his three companions to sit down at the center on the spot. Gao Liang drove his striking, eye-catching Shenyong Wanger sedan, with golden-haired beauty Dai Mengna seated beside him. Behind them, Mike drove a Nasca sports car, carrying Julie. The building of the Chinese Community Center featured a strong Chinese architectural style, modeled after a traditional Chinese palace. As they looked at the vibrant Chinese knots, they were immediately drawn to a striking couplet displayed prominently: "Pillar in the Stream, Splendor of Chinese Literature."