Yan Wu Academy

At 7:30 in the morning.

Chen Feng got up, brushed his teeth, turned on the induction cooker, and boiled water to steam eggs.

The thought of going back to sleep was dashed—he simply couldn't fall asleep.

He took a carton of milk from the fridge, heated it in the microwave in no time, and, as usual, finished breakfast with two eggs, a slice of bread, and the milk.

Perhaps because his physical fitness had improved a bit, Chen Feng could sense that his appetite had also grown slightly.

In the past week, this breakfast had left him about ninety percent full.

But now, it felt like only eighty percent?

"Strong muscles need enough protein to maintain themselves."

"Correspondingly, the higher one's physical fitness, the more nutrition is needed to support it."

Chen Feng wasn't surprised that his appetite had increased, because it fully proved that he was indeed getting stronger.

For a time, he grew even more eager for his progress in Sanshou.

He even wondered if, when his proficiency broke through to the next level, his body's Four-Dimensional Attributes would increase again.

"I really can't wait for evening to come."

His eyes were bright—this was the first time Chen Feng had felt such longing.

Then, taking advantage of the morning hours.

He pulled out his phone again and browsed nearby job listings until one in the afternoon, when he changed into a black short-sleeved shirt and pants and walked out of the house.

Tall buildings lined both sides, and the streets were crowded with people.

Honking horns sounded from time to time, with gas-powered cars and electric vehicles driving along the road.

Everything It Looked Like very similar to Earth, but Chen Feng knew this was no longer the time and space he had once known.

First, there was the technology.

Chen Feng's gaze followed as, in the distance by the roadside, a red car with two-wheeled wings sped through the air from afar, two meters off the ground, with a pale blue flame jetting from its tail.

Whoosh!

Pedestrians' skirts fluttered, and a few middle-aged men even had their wigs blown off.

"Damn, another flying car punk!"

"What rotten luck!"

The obvious speeding drew a lot of attention, and soon a blue-and-white vehicle from the Security Bureau, similar in design, chased after it, also spewing flames.

Flying cars.

A product of this world's technology.

They could drive on the ground like ordinary cars, or activate flight mode, unfold their wings, and fly at high speed several meters above the ground.

Just this one point surpassed Chen Feng's understanding from his previous life, far more advanced than Earth.

Besides that.

Chen Feng crossed the street along the crosswalk and looked up at a giant electronic screen on a tall building.

A City Boxing Tournament was being broadcast live, showing two sturdy, burly men locked in a duel on the ring.

Fist-to-flesh combat—many passersby stopped to watch.

"City Boxing Tournament."

His eyes flickered as Chen Feng thought of another difference in this world.

Bipolar Hegemony, Multi-Power Alliance.

The Chi Kingdom he was in was one of the two poles, an imperial state, Contended Against Each Other with the western Platinum Federation.

After a world war called the Yaoguang Revolution, technology developed rapidly, and peace had lasted for one hundred and twenty years.

Perhaps because of this, combat competitions in this world were especially thriving.

From the lowest, most primal violence—amateur enthusiasts brawling.

To the division of Martial Dao Schools—professional Martial Artists dueling.

From low to high: amateur nine-dan, professional seven-level.

As long as it was a martial arts-related event, it was bound to attract immense attention and offer high prize money.

Because of this, there were many martial arts academies in this world, and the number of martial arts enthusiasts far exceeded that of the Earth from his previous life.

Tap tap!

With these thoughts flashing through his mind, Chen Feng had already stepped up to the entrance of the martial arts academy.

The sign reading "Yan Wu Academy" hung horizontally on the second-floor wall. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he could see figures moving about inside—at least several dozen people.

Some were training their physiques or using equipment, others practicing moves or hitting sandbags—it had a distinct atmosphere of its own.

Swish!

Without delay, Chen Feng pushed open the glass door and stepped inside, quickly heading to the changing room to swap his clothes.

"Chen Feng!"

Someone called out, and Chen Feng nodded in acknowledgment.

The other party was lean, about one meter seventy-eight tall, with shoulder-length hair. His name was Lin Hao.

He was a fellow student from the original body's time at the martial arts gym, barely considered an acquaintance.

"Didn't see you yesterday?" Chen Feng replied casually.

"Heh, had something come up yesterday, took a day off." Lin Hao said with a grin, then pursed his lips to gesture at a few figures on the practice field.

"Look over there, this Xu Dongtai really fights dirty—two punches and he took Zheng Qiang down."

Chen Feng looked along the flow and saw a sturdy young man collapsed on the ground, his face bruised and swollen, looking rather disheveled.

In contrast, the other person standing on the field was brimming with arrogance.

Nearly one meter eighty-five tall, a crew cut, a silver earring in his left ear, and a piercing gaze.

His muscular build was quite eye-catching, thick arms hanging at his sides, his very presence suffocating.

"What happened?"

"Tch, words were exchanged. I mean, what was Zheng Qiang thinking, going after Xu Dongtai?"

"And it was a ring match, so even the coach can't say much." Lin Hao answered briefly, shaking his head at the latter part.

Chen Feng understood the meaning but didn't offer any opinion.

This Xu Dongtai had great physical talent, praised more than once by the coach for his fighting instinct, and his sanshou progress far exceeded normal standards.

But yet, he was hard to get along with, used to throwing his weight around in training classes.

"What are you looking at? You all wanna spar with Dong Ge or what?"

"Come on, get on the stage and train!"

Xu Dongtai's lackey shouted loudly, glaring at several people, including Chen Feng.

Most didn't want trouble, held back, helped Zheng Qing up, and then went back to practicing punches.

"Tsk, that Zhou Xin kid really knows how to ride his master's coattails."

Lin Hao clicked his tongue in a curse, then watched as Chen Feng turned and walked alone to a corner.

"What are you doing?"

"Practicing punches."

A flat reply. Chen Feng paid no attention to the outside world's distractions.

Every disadvantage had only one cause.

Weakness.

So he just wanted to train and silently grow stronger.

Whoosh!

With that, he did a quick two rounds of stretching, finishing his warm-up.

Standing still, Chen Feng took a deep breath.

Gripped tightly, following his insight and memory, he thrust out his right arm.

Shwoosh!

His fist was straight, his elbow slightly bent.

The most basic straight punch.

But unlike before, this time Chen Feng could more clearly feel the smooth flow of his power.

Just like his whole body's muscles were being pulled, his waist and back strength erupting together.

His eyes lit up. Without pausing, he stepped forward and threw his left fist.

Shwoosh!

His elbow bent noticeably—a textbook left hook.

As his fist shot out, Chen Feng fully realized the gap between being uninitiated in sanshou and having entered its threshold.

The former was barely grasping the movements, with uncoordinated power.

The latter meant truly understanding the mechanics, each punch engaging more muscle groups.

Immediately, he fully adapted to the changes that came with entering sanshou's threshold.

Chen Feng opened up his strikes, and before long, he was immersed in his solo practice.

"This guy... feels like he's improved a notch?"

Lin Hao beside him was a bit surprised, but since he was still a rookie himself, he wasn't sure.

Time passed like this, sweat dripping drop by drop, gradually soaking Chen Feng's clothes.

During this time, some people stopped to rest due to sore muscles, while others gritted their teeth and persisted.

At the same time, Coach Lu from the Sanshou training class appeared quietly, observing everyone's practice and occasionally offering guidance.

His gaze lingered on Xu Dongtai for a moment, watching as the other threw punches with force and impressive momentum. He nodded to himself.

"Xu Dongtai's talent is indeed good. He's at the amateur fourth-dan level. Maybe he has a chance to pass the assessment."

"But this kid's nature is a bit too wild. He even injured Zheng Qiang today."

Shaking his head, Coach Lu withdrew his gaze, his thoughts turning.

There were quite a few people resting at the moment.

Chen Feng, still focused on practice in the corner, caught his attention with a subconscious glance.

"Oh? He's entered the Sanshou beginner level."

Without much surprise, he had long seen that the other was not far from breaking through.

"But—diligent, yes. A pity, though. His talent is just lacking."

Sanshou beginner level placed among these trainees was only mid-tier, not particularly outstanding.

Shaking his head slightly, Coach Lu soon slipped away quietly.