Chapter 4

Geniuses and ordinary people were different species. Bai Lang had merely confirmed that fact once again. His teacher had once said that some people in this world were born solely to crush others. You scored a hundred because of your tireless effort, while he scored a hundred because the test was only worth a hundred. Mo Di was exactly that kind of example. Bai Lang naturally had a competitive streak as well. "I went through nine years of compulsory education, survived the thousands of troops crossing a single-log bridge, and got into a 211 university. There's no reason I should be worse than you."

The facts proved that Bai Lang really was inferior to Mo Di, even though the other boy might have been one or two years younger than him. Thirty-two Forms Long Fist balanced attack and defense, but its attacks were not strong and its defense was weak. It was merely a martial art for loosening one's limbs, studying fist principles, and circulating true Qi. It had no particular restrictions and could easily be converted into various other martial arts. According to Liu Heita, the martial holy land Many-Hearing Temple also had Arhat Fist, while Dragon Gate Sect naturally had beginner fist arts such as Soft Fist. Changle Gang's Long Fist, however, was relatively commonplace, and probably could not compare with the beginner fist arts of those sects.

More than half of the Seven Gangs, Eight Sects, Nine Alliances used this branch of Long Fist as their introductory martial art, and Changle Gang, as one of the Seven Gangs, was naturally no exception. Yet during his daily lessons, Liu Heita spoke with great reverence of Changle Gang's Gang Leader, "Sunset Long River" Gao Yuan, and his martial art, Great Flowing Cloud Sleeve. In the black man's mouth, it was practically a divine art renowned throughout the world. "With a sweep of the Gang Leader's sleeve, it's like flowing clouds and flying waterfalls! With just one move, he killed the First Ghost, Third Ghost, and Seventh Ghost of the West Mountain One Cave Ghosts!"

Bai Lang treated such things as stories. After all, he was only a Probationary Disciple right now, and had learned merely seven forms of the Thirty-two Forms Long Fist. As for true Qi, he could only barely circulate it through half of the Ren Meridian with the support of his fist technique. With that little ability, he might not even be able to beat a strong man outside. The most important thing was that Bai Lang had never fought anyone before. He had neither the experience nor the nerve for it. Fortunately, nothing should happen before he finished learning all thirty-two forms.

Thus, Bai Lang stopped thinking about anything else, including his jealousy toward Mo Di—he truly could not muster any. If someone was one or two steps ahead of you, then you could be jealous. But when they were as far above you as clouds from mud, how could you even feel jealous? Better to focus seriously on studying his own abilities. This was power belonging to oneself; practicing martial arts well was his own business. Thanks to his nine years of compulsory education and his 211 university education, Bai Lang was not some useless good-for-nothing. His learning efficiency was quite high.

This first showed in his memory. He memorized the individual movements of Long Fist quite quickly. However, the method for circulating true Qi had no mnemonic verses, only meridian diagrams Liu Heita showed them and pointers for visualization. This martial art was probably the simplest and crudest method of nourishing Qi. With a good memory and the ability to break down movements, Bai Lang ranked among the better performers aside from Mo Di. His learning progress was slower than Mo Di's, but still a little faster than everyone else's.

Still, learning it and using it were different matters. The coordination of fists, feet, breathing, and internal force required more than attention during practice; it was also closely tied to each person's talent. One little fellow named Liu Mao could keep up with Bai Lang. His memory was nothing special, but once he learned a set of movements, his efficiency in performing it was far higher than Bai Lang's. He hardly needed to pay special attention at all. Naturally, his movements coordinated with the circulation of internal force.

There was no point envying such things. Everyone had their own fortune, and it could not be forced. Wasn't Bai Lang's own fortune his ability to analyze and memorize? It was only that his memory and learning ability were probably inferior to Mo Di's. If I competed with him in advanced mathematics, I should win!! Bai Lang was simply trying to ease his own mind. Constantly being provoked by a genius could throw one's mental balance off.

Liu Heita was not much of a teacher. Aside from praising the Gang Leader all day, there was little else to recommend him—teaching students with clubs was his specialty. As for the rest, from what Bai Lang had seen, the man seemed quite knowledgeable about women and storytellers beneath bridges. Beyond that, Bai Lang seriously doubted how many characters he could recognize. Bai Lang had already confirmed that this world used Chinese characters as well. This dog-headed fellow speaks crudely. He teaches with care, but he doesn't have much else going for him. Even so, Bai Lang still had to thank Liu Heita. No matter what, this rough man had led them through the door of martial arts.

Winter passed and spring arrived. Three months went by. Liu Heita had taught the full Thirty-two Forms Long Fist to this group of Probationary Disciples. Three people had failed to learn the entire set within those three months and had been taken away a few days ago. It was said they might be sent to work as miscellaneous laborers in the gang's various businesses, perhaps with a status slightly above that of a waiter. During these three months, Mo Di had not only mastered the Thirty-two Forms Long Fist, but had also used its techniques to open all twenty-four acupoints of the Ren Meridian with his own true Qi. Even Liu Heita became extremely polite when dealing with such talent. Forget beating him—he did not even scold him.

As for Bai Lang, he had also learned the full Thirty-two Forms Long Fist. However, he had only opened four acupoints in the Ren Meridian, and his true Qi still could not travel through the entire meridian. Among everyone, he ranked third. Liu Mao had later surpassed him to take second place. That kid had taken two months to learn the full Thirty-two Forms Long Fist, one month slower than Bai Lang, but after three months, he had opened twelve acupoints. Bai Lang had nothing to say about that.

But now, the time had finally come to enter the gang. Liu Heita had said early on, "The gang's Elders will come select disciples. You bunch of trash have gotten lucky! It'll depend on your luck which hall you get picked for." Changle Gang had several branch strongholds and several halls, each with somewhat different martial arts. When the gang recruited newcomers, the halls' Elders, Incense Masters, branch leaders, and even senior brothers would come choose people. Those with talent would become disciples, while those without much talent would be selected as ordinary gang members and lackeys.

Changle Gang's branch strongholds and halls stood on equal footing and were classified according to the Five Elements. Thus, Bai Lang was selected into Autumn Water Hall. Contrary to what Liu Heita, that rough fellow, had said, no Elder came to inspect or select anyone. A transfer order was simply issued, and several rough men came to take them away. The assignments had been decided long ago. Mo Di and Liu Mao both went to the Main Hall, while Bai Lang went to Autumn Water Hall, ranked third beneath the Main Hall. This hall was responsible for brokerages dealing in carts, boats, inns, porters, and other trades, and held a large share of the brokerage territory in Ye City.

Having just entered the hall, Bai Lang naturally did not meet the Hall Master either. He was directly assigned to guard a brokerage, then casually given two books to cultivate on his own.