Chapter 35: Iron Wall Strike
Chapter 35: Chapter 35: Iron Wall Strike
Seeing the burly man—who was a full size larger than himself—about to kneel, Fang Chen quickly reached out to stop him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he explained, "Brother, get up! That was just me talking trash on stage. I was joking around, you can’t take it seriously!"
But Iron Hand stubbornly refused to rise. He looked up, his eyes exceptionally serious.
"No, Mr. Feng! You used your strength to teach me a profound lesson! If you had merely relied on your Body Technique to evade and defeat me, I might not have accepted it. But you chose the most direct method! You defeated me head-on using the fists I was most arrogant about! I, Luo Wu, am utterly convinced by my loss!"
His tone was filled with excitement and earnestness as he continued, "You’re so young, yet your Inner Power and Fist Technique are so exquisite. I don’t have any great abilities, but I only ask that you, Master, might occasionally offer me a pointer or two in the future. I will definitely follow your lead and serve you without hesitation!
"Since you, Mr. Feng, brought up ’taking a disciple,’ you must have seen my potential. You even pointed out midway that my intentions were too obvious. I’m not someone who fails to appreciate a favor, so I beg you to agree, Master!"
Fang Chen felt a massive headache coming on. "If I told you I was purely just trying to act cool, would you believe it?" he thought.
Just as he was organizing his words to refuse, Luo Wu pulled a bulging kraft paper bag from his backpack. Holding it with both hands, he presented it to Fang Chen.
"Master! This is the money I earned in Geta recently. I spent some, but there’s still seventy-three thousand left! Consider it my apprenticeship gift! I hope you won’t disdain it, Master!"
Saying this, before Fang Chen could react, he actually knocked his head against the ground three times—THUMP, THUMP, THUMP—making a string of muffled sounds.
"If you don’t agree, Master, I’ll kneel here today and never get up!"
Fang Chen’s gaze was instantly and firmly drawn to the several bundles of crisp banknotes visible through the open mouth of the bag. Oh ho! There was even money involved? This... His originally firm resolve to refuse was severely shaken.
However, Fang Chen still showed a very conflicted expression on his face, though his tone softened. "Why would you... bother with this? I just luckily beat you by one move, there’s no need for such a grand gesture..."
He reached out to pull Luo Wu up, but the man was as heavy as a rock and wouldn’t budge.
Finally, Fang Chen sighed. "Well... alright. I’ll accept. But normally, we should just call each other brothers. Being called ’Master’ is too conspicuous," he said, eyeing the bag of money.
Hearing this, Luo Wu was overjoyed and excitedly knocked his head against the ground twice more—THUMP, THUMP. "Thank you, Master!"
Only then was Fang Chen able to forcefully pull him up.
"May I know your esteemed name, Master?" Luo Wu asked respectfully.
"Fang Chen."
"Yes, Master!" Luo Wu quickly replied, offering the money bag again. "You must accept this money!"
Fang Chen looked at the thick stack of cash, feeling extremely tempted, but as his gaze swept over Luo Wu’s sling-supported arm and heavily bandaged fists, he suppressed the urge to take it all. He reached into the bag and counted out three bundles of cash—exactly thirty thousand—and pushed the rest back to Luo Wu.
"Your injuries aren’t light, and the club’s basic treatment isn’t enough. You’ll need money for follow-up care and medicine.
"In our line of work, apprenticeship emphasizes ’leaving a deep mark.’ I’ll take these three bundles for the number ’three,’ symbolizing a solid foundation, which also fulfills the proper etiquette.
"You must keep the rest to properly treat your injuries. Your body is your greatest asset."
Luo Wu looked at the returned money, deeply moved. He hadn’t expected this young master to not only be strong but also so righteous and considerate!
"Master... this..."
"Listen to me," Fang Chen said in an unquestionable tone. "Hurry up and get your injuries treated, don’t delay it. If you have any... uh, questions regarding Martial Arts, we can talk about them after you heal."
Fang Chen cleared his throat and feigned seriousness as he grasped Luo Wu’s shoulders. "That Fist Technique you cultivate packs quite a punch. What realm have you practiced it to?"
Hearing this, a look of shame immediately appeared on Luo Wu’s face as he hastily answered with respect, "To answer you, Master, that Fist Technique is called Iron Wall Strike. Your disciple’s aptitude is dull; I’ve practiced it for seven years and... and still haven’t been able to break through to the Great Success Realm. I’m truly ashamed."
Fang Chen pondered inwardly, "It’s merely at the Minor Achievement realm, yet its power is so fierce and domineering that it nearly made me suffer a loss. If it were practiced to Great Success... I’m afraid that even if I practiced Rock-Breaking Fist to Perfection, I might not gain much of an advantage in a head-on clash."
The immense impact a good Cultivation Technique had on improving a Martial Artist’s strength came from the overwhelming superiority of the technique’s own grade and characteristics.
Seeing Fang Chen deep in thought, Luo Wu offered an explanation. "I got this Cultivation Technique seven years ago when I was in my rural hometown. I happened to save a severely injured man who, unexpectedly, turned out to be an official from the Martial Arts Association. After he recovered and returned, the association rewarded me with this Iron Wall Strike Cultivation Technique and stated that I could handle it however I saw fit."
"Oh?" Fang Chen’s interest was piqued; this origin was quite similar to that of his Finger-Tapping Divine Techniques. "Then how much progress do you feel you lack to reach the Great Success Realm?"
"How much progress?" Luo Wu paused, scratching his head in confusion. "That... I can’t say for sure. I feel like I’m lacking a little over ten percent? It’s just a feeling. I’ve touched the threshold, but I always lack that final breath to break through."
Only then did Fang Chen notice that Luo Wu’s wrist lacked the Spirit Seal engraved after a Superpower Spirit Awakening. He had most likely missed the Spirit Awakening age. Without a Spirit Core, he naturally couldn’t clearly see the exact percentage progress of each skill through an interface like Fang Chen could, and had to rely on vague feelings and experience to judge.
Suddenly remembering something, Luo Wu’s eyes lit up and he hurriedly said, "Oh, right, Master! Your disciple has always kept the Cultivation Technique Secret Manuals for Iron Wall Strike safely stored back in my rural hometown. When I go back this time, I will definitely retrieve them and offer them to you! With your natural talent and comprehension, Master, you’ll certainly be able to grasp them quickly!"
Fang Chen’s heart skipped a beat. There was such a good thing? Yet his face remained impassive as he nodded slightly, his tone flat.
"Hehe, we can talk about that later. There’s no rush for this matter; focusing on healing your injuries is what’s important. My next match is in three days, so you can bring them then.
"Since there’s nothing else, get some good rest and hurry up to seek medical treatment."
"Yes! Master! Your disciple understands!" Luo Wu replied respectfully, before leaving the alley.
Fang Chen watched his back disappear, touching the thick thirty thousand bucks in his pocket, and then thought of the powerful Fist Technique secret manual he was about to get his hands on. The corners of his mouth finally curved up uncontrollably.
"Taking this disciple... doesn’t seem like a loss?" he mused.
The next day, at the school gates of Jinchuan Three Greats.
According to the previous notice, today was the day the students of The Three Greats would be assigned to temporary schools. As expected, it was even noisier than usual.
Students had already formed three layers deep around the massive red notice board.
"Excuse me, please let me through!"
"Did you see it? Which school are you in?"
"The Fifth Greats! I’m in The Fifth Greats! That’s great!"
"Sigh, I’m in The First Greats, which is alright, I guess..."
"Damn it, why is it The Ninth Greats? I heard the management there is the worst..."
The students were chattering away; some cheered for joy, while others hung their heads in dejection.
Fang Chen squeezed into the crowd, his eyes quickly searching through the dense mass of names. Finally, in the middle-to-latter half of the list, he saw his temporary school.
The Seventh Congress.