Hitting a Person Like Hanging a Painting

Meng Chuan had arranged with Wang Yue on Friday to go to the martial arts gym together at seven o'clock on Saturday morning to practice.

Yong'an City had been unstable lately, and since Wang Yue's family was wealthy, his father had spent a large sum to arrange for a bodyguard with eight levels of blood energy to protect him closely.

The most eye-catching feature was that the bodyguard wore a pair of extremely form-fitting special gloves on his hands. When he unconsciously clenched his fists, four bone-white spikes would automatically protrude from the top knuckles, excluding the thumbs, much like Wolverine from his past life.

It was likely a Demon-Subduing Weapon; Meng Chuan had never seen other Demon-Subduing Weapons and dared not jump to conclusions.

"Wang Yue, will he be allowed in?"

Meng Chuan stopped at the entrance of the gym, looking at the man in the suit and sunglasses standing inseparable from Wang Yue's side, and asked with concern.

He was worried that Wang Yue's bodyguard hadn't paid the tuition and would be punched away by Luo Guanyun the moment he stepped inside.

"I paid double, of course he can!"

He still didn't understand the world of the wealthy; with the Qianyuan Thunder Movement present in the gym, there wouldn't be any danger at all.

Today, Qin Mengya, whom Wang Yue had a crush on, didn't come, and Wang Yue was somewhat absent-minded on the training ground.

"Fatty, practice properly, don't be so listless."

Meng Chuan was practicing his Bow Stance under Liu Ru's guidance. Seeing the fatty sitting on the ground lost in thought, he couldn't bear to see his father's two thousand yuan go to waste like this.

"Sigh, I don't have any energy if I can't see Qin Mengya."

He hadn't expected this fatty to be such a romantic, but based on Meng Chuan's understanding of him, this guy was just being lazy.

"Get up and practice. Qin Mengya's blood energy was measured at 1.68 last time, she's almost at two. Look at yourself, how are you worthy of her?"

"I've broken through to one too, alright! If you don't believe me, let's spar!"

Although he had always followed Meng Chuan's lead, Meng Chuan had poked at Wang Yue's sore spot, making him react like a cat with its fur standing on end.

Meng Chuan thought to himself that although Wang Yue had barely reached the first level of blood energy by taking medicine, the gap between them wasn't large, and it was the perfect chance to test his own combat ability.

"Ferocious Tiger Fist, Wang Yue! First level of blood energy, please enlighten me."

Wang Yue let out a shout, and everyone nearby who was practicing punches or stances looked over.

Meng Chuan felt so awkward he could have dug a hole in the floor; he hadn't expected Wang Yue to play along with such a cringey act.

With no other choice, Meng Chuan stood firm and returned the salute:

"National Compulsory Basic Fist Technique, Meng Chuan. Zero levels of blood energy, please enlighten me."

"I know that fatty, a rich kid here to experience life. Who is the guy opposite him?"

"The guy opposite is also an expert, born missing a screw, the future compiler of the new version of the Guoyi Fist."

"??"

This person hadn't come last weekend and didn't understand what the other meant.

"Anyway, just watch. The fatty isn't worth watching, but the Guoyi Fist of that guy named Meng Chuan has some substance. He might actually be able to win against a stronger opponent."

Even though both of them were at the very bottom of the martial arts world, the people of Chu were fond of martial arts and loved watching sparring matches even more. Many minor experts at the second and third levels of blood energy gathered around.

Now that people had crowded around, Wang Yue's mind gradually cleared, and he felt a bit of regret. He knew Meng Chuan's Guoyi Fist better than anyone else; when he practiced his punches, the whistling wind was no joke.

"Let's not fight, Brother Chuan, can I just admit defeat?"

Wang Yue's ancestors had been in business for three generations, and by this generation, his skin was quite thick; he didn't care at all about the integrity of a Martial Practitioner.

"Too late, take this punch!"

He had already shouted the embarrassing slogan and committed to the act; he had to fight!

Meng Chuan stepped forward into a Bow Stance with his left foot and launched a quick attack with his right fist.

Wang Yue was, after all, at the first level of blood energy and easily dodged Meng Chuan's probing strike.

"Damn, Brother Chuan, are you for real?"

Wang Yue held his hands in the shape of tiger claws, baring his teeth and howling. Combined with his round figure, the people around burst into laughter.

"Here I come."

Wang Yue charged toward Meng Chuan. His Ferocious Tiger Descends the Mountain also had some momentum, as his sheer size was a factor.

Meng Chuan decided to avoid the brunt of the attack. Using his left foot as a pivot, he retreated half a step to dodge the collision, then immediately stepped forward and slammed his elbow into Wang Yue's big belly.

"Damn, this fatty is truly fleshy."

Meng Chuan's elbow strike failed to break through his defense.

"Hehe, Brother Chuan, I'm a tank build. Your level isn't high enough, you can't hurt me."

Meng Chuan ignored Wang Yue's taunts and moved in to continue the assault. Wang Yue completely abandoned his defense, burying his head and continuing his Ferocious Tiger Descends the Mountain.

"How do you break a situation like this? You can't even hurt this guy."

"There's no way, but this is nothing. Those who practice body tempering are even more monstrous; you can only look for an opening."

The people around were whispering.

Facing this situation, Meng Chuan remained calm. The Guoyi Fist was a basic technique, and its consumption of physical stamina was minimal.

With the proficiency about to break its limit, he flexibly shifted his style from heavy blows to light strikes, his hands fluttering like spirit butterflies while his footwork blended the Sancai Stance into ever-changing patterns.

His fists followed his heart, and his heart followed his intent; Meng Chuan gradually became exhilarated, for this was the charm of martial arts and his own lifelong pursuit.

"Holy crap, look at that Meng Chuan, he's fighting beautifully!"

"Yeah, even though his blood-qi is lacking, his execution of these techniques is truly awesome!"

The onlookers gradually quieted down to watch the match closely; being able to perform martial arts to this level was a skill in itself, worthy of respect.

As Meng Chuan entered the zone, Wang Yue completely lost his rhythm, forced into passive defense while facing fists raining down from all directions.

After a long, intense battle, Meng Chuan finally found an opening, using a low sweep to trip him to the ground; once down, Wang Yue lacked the stamina to continue and conceded defeat.

Meng Chuan squatted down to pull Wang Yue up, then patted the dust off his body.

"It's alright, Chuan-ge, losing to you is nothing to be ashamed of."

Liu Ru took the lead in applauding, and immediately after, thunderous applause erupted throughout the training hall; Meng Chuan had put on a performance for them that was like a textbook on martial arts.

Many people began to look thoughtful; if even the most basic Wawa Fist could have such power when practiced to a high level, then the advanced techniques they were learning...

In an instant, the area around the Wooden Dummy became crowded with people.

"I was here first, let me go first."

"Who is this? Don't push me!"

Liu Ru hadn't expected Meng Chuan to have such an influential effect; as a registered disciple and instructor of the gym, she also had corresponding assessment systems.

If students failed to meet the strength standards, they would be fined as part of their tuition, so Meng Chuan had done her a huge favor.

"Do you still have energy? I'll be your sparring partner for a bit."

Liu Ru extended an invitation to Meng Chuan; her strength was far greater than his, and feeding him moves could rapidly improve his combat ability, which could also be considered a way to repay him.

"Thank you, Instructor Liu, let's go."

Meng Chuan had already grown to love the feeling of sparring, so he gladly accepted Liu Ru's invitation.

"Your leg isn't straight, and your force generation isn't quite right."

"Your straight punch lacks momentum, and your waist power didn't follow through—ah! You brat, where are you aiming?"

Liu Ru only defended without attacking; every time Meng Chuan landed a few moves, Liu Ru would exert a little force to push him back, then provide corresponding guidance.

Meng Chuan's final punch was a bit underhanded, so Liu Ru struck back a little harder, sending Meng Chuan flying into the rubber-padded wall.

"This move is called Yueshan Baji—hitting a person like hanging a painting!"