He An: "..."
Good food, good wine, and a huge pork knuckle.
And he even called me brother?
What more was there to say? This guy was all heart!!
He An took a quick turn, brought over a table, and set it in the courtyard. He also fetched a few bowls.
When he got a proper look at the side dishes Wu Wenming had bought,
He An was won over.
It was even more sumptuous than the meal he'd had at home the day he received the Yi Jin Jing.
And this
was apparently just an ordinary, unpretentious meal for Wu Wenming.
"Brother Wu, I won't say much else. Just based on this meal today, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." He An gave his word.
He took a small sip.
The spicy flavor exploded across his tongue.
But in this wretched place, the drink left He An feeling warm inside—and surprisingly comfortable.
Wu Wenming had no airs about him. He waved a hand and said, "Meeting is fate, and Brother He and I are especially fated to be working together, keeping watch over this Criminal Prison. No need to talk about asking for favors."
"As for this meal, it's my treat, Brother He."
"In fact, as long as I'm in the Division, I'll cover lunch every day. It may not be lavish, but it's definitely a lot better than what they serve here."
"I went to have a look earlier. The food in the Division is downright unfit for human consumption."
Wu Wenming's face twisted with disdain.
He An's mouth twitched, and he nearly burst into tears.
He'd just been about to go eat, only to hear someone call the food unfit for human consumption. The worst part was, he couldn't even argue. Compared with what Wu Wenming had bought,
it really wasn't fit for human consumption.
Helpless, He An picked up a piece of meat and ate it, fuming.
Damn, that's good!!!
"By the way, Brother He, which Martial Art did you choose? I've never seen anyone practice like that before," Wu Wenming asked after they'd eaten and drunk their fill.
"The Yi Jin Jing."
Wu Wenming looked surprised.
Clearly, he'd heard of the Yi Jin Jing too.
"The Yi Jin Jing? That's what you chose, Brother He? I heard there are hardly any people in Fangcheng who know it. Almost nobody studies it."
"If you hit a bottleneck, you won't even be able to find anyone to exchange pointers with."
He An didn't mind at all.
Did he have a bottleneck?
No!
As long as he kept practicing, he was sure to break through.
Seeing He An's reaction only made Wu Wenming more curious. That afternoon, when He An began practicing Martial Arts, Wu Wenming didn't slack off any longer. He joined in and practiced with him, doing a fairly convincing job.
The Martial Art he'd chosen was called "Black Tiger Fist."
The style had no flashy moves, but it was practical and domineering. Its techniques flowed together tightly, emphasizing "using stillness to control movement, striking only after the opponent, yet landing first."
As he threw his punches,
an aura seemed to emanate from Wu Wenming.
He let out a low shout, like a tiger's roar racing through the mountain woods.
He An was startled. He watched Wu Wenming's every move closely, the contempt vanishing from his eyes and giving way to astonishment.
That one move Wu Wenming had just shown was enough to prove that his "Black Tiger Fist" had reached Minor Accomplishment.
"Children of prominent families really aren't as simple as they seem!"
He An marveled inwardly.
After running through the "Black Tiger Fist" once, Wu Wenming instantly became a different person. He plopped down on the ground.
"I'm exhausted!"
"If my dad didn't make me throw a few punches every day, I'd never put myself through this!!"
"Heh, heh!"
He An finally understood.
It was already strange enough that Wu Wenming, who'd studied Martial Arts since childhood, had gotten fat.
Now that he thought about it,
it actually made sense.
He only threw a few punches each day, and ate nothing but rich food.
More went in than he burned off.
How could he not get fat?
Noticing He An's gaze, Wu Wenming gave an awkward smile. Then a hint of pride appeared on his face. "Brother He, what did you think of my punches just now?"
"Good!"
He An answered sincerely.
Wu Wenming's display had been so impressive, both in its appearance and its aura, that He An had even felt tempted to learn the "Black Tiger Fist."
Wu Wenming gave a foolish grin.
"I knew you'd understand fists, Brother He. My old man says every day that my punches are all show, and he's nearly made me lose all confidence."
"Heh!"
He An's mouth twitched.
Wu Wenming hadn't told him who he was, and He An didn't know why he'd joined the Town Martial Division.
But he'd already figured out that Wu Wenming was a member of Fangcheng's Wu Family, and quite possibly its young master. The old man he'd mentioned
was undoubtedly Wu Feng, the Wu Family Patriarch and Fangcheng's registrar.
In front of He An,
his punches might indeed have been pretty good.
But in front of a Martial Artist who'd Entered the Ranks, those moves really might be nothing but show.
"Brother Wu, how long have you been learning this fist?" He An asked curiously.
"Half a year."
He An drew a sharp breath.
Half a year?
And he only threw a few punches each day,
yet he'd still managed to bring the "Black Tiger Fist" to Minor Accomplishment.
Are you even human?
Wu Wenming didn't mind. Instead, he asked, "What about you, Brother He? How long have you been learning the Yi Jin Jing? The moves you just performed looked pretty good too."
"If I'm not mistaken, you've reached Minor Accomplishment with the Yi Jin Jing as well, right?"
He An shrugged.
"Take a guess."
"I'd guess you've been learning the Yi Jin Jing for a long time, Brother He. At least a year."
He An said nothing.
"Couldn't have been just half a year, could it?"
Wu Wenming looked surprised.
"Something like that."
"How far off?"
"Five and a half months."
He An had no intention of hiding it from a rich kid like him.
In front of someone who had no grudge against him, was strong, and had powerful connections, showing off some of his strength might not be a bad thing.
Maybe he'd even attract an investor!
"Five and a half months?"
Wu Wenming froze, then sprang to his feet.
The entire courtyard seemed to tremble.
"Brother He, are you saying it took you half a month to cultivate the Yi Jin Jing to Minor Accomplishment?"
Before He An could react, Wu Wenming was already shaking his head.
"Impossible!"
"Absolutely impossible."
"Even a Martial Art that hasn't Entered the Ranks couldn't reach Minor Accomplishment in half a month. Entry Level, maybe, but half a month is absolutely impossible!!!"
He An said nothing, only looking at him with a faint, amused smile.
After a long while,
Wu Wenming realized what this meant.
He swallowed.
"Brother He, are you sure you're not lying?"
He An shook his head.
Wu Wenming was dumbfounded. It felt as though a bolt of lightning had crashed down from a clear sky inside his mind.
Half a month. Yi Jin Jing. Minor Accomplishment...
He knew what each of those words meant. So why did they make no sense together?
After a long while,
Wu Wenming accepted the truth.
He looked at He An as though he were some kind of monster.
"Brother He, your talent is incredible. There are probably very few people in all of Fangcheng—no, in all of Qingshui Commandery—with talent like yours."
"You're not bad yourself."
He An truly meant it.
He'd reached Minor Accomplishment in the Yi Jin Jing in half a month through nothing but his fate and hard work.
But Wu Wenming relied on genuine talent.
When you got down to it, he'd thrown punches just over a hundred times—fewer than He An had—yet he'd still brought his Black Tiger Fist to Minor Accomplishment. How could that not be astounding?
Only he knew whether he'd actually opened it.
Try searching for the author if you can't find the book by its title. Maybe it was just renamed!
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