Punching a Man onto the Wall Like a Painting

Meng Chuan had made plans with Wang Yue on Friday to go to the martial arts school together at seven on Saturday morning to practice.

Yong'an City had been unsettled lately. Wang Yue's family was wealthy, and his father had spent a fortune hiring a bodyguard with eight Qi-Blood stages to protect him at all times.

The most eye-catching thing was the special gloves fitted snugly over the bodyguard's hands. Whenever he unconsciously clenched his fists, four bone-white spikes automatically sprang out from the uppermost knuckles of his fingers, except for his thumbs, just like Wolverine from Meng Chuan's previous life.

They were probably a Demon-Subduing Weapon. Meng Chuan had never seen any other Demon-Subduing Weapons, so he didn't dare jump to conclusions.

"Can he come in, Wang Yue?"

Meng Chuan stopped at the entrance to the martial arts school, looking worriedly at the suited, sunglass-wearing giant who stood close beside Wang Yue without ever leaving his side.

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

"I'll pay double. He has to be allowed in!"

The world of the rich was beyond him. With Qianyuan Thunder Movement in the martial arts school, there was no way anything dangerous could happen.

Qin Mengya, the girl Wang Yue secretly liked, hadn't come today. Wang Yue was clearly distracted on the training floor.

"Fatty, focus on your training. Don't sit there looking so down."

Under Liu Ru's guidance, Meng Chuan was practicing his stance. Seeing the fatty sitting on the ground in a daze, he couldn't bear to watch his father's two thousand yuan go to waste.

"Ah, I just can't get motivated when I can't see Qin Mengya."

Who would've thought this fatty was such a lovesick fool? But Meng Chuan knew him well enough to realize his laziness had just kicked in.

"Get up and train. Qin Mengya's Qi-Blood measured 1.68 last time, and she's nearly broken through two. Look at yourself. How could you possibly be good enough for her?"

"I've broken through one, too, okay? Don't believe me? How about we spar?"

He'd always followed Meng Chuan's lead, but Meng Chuan had hit Wang Yue right where it hurt. He bristled like a cat with its fur standing on end.

Meng Chuan thought that although Wang Yue had barely forced his way through the first Qi-Blood Pass with pills, the gap between them wasn't that big. It was a good chance to test his own combat ability.

"Ferocious Tiger Fist—Wang Yue! First Qi-Blood Pass. Please, teach me!"

Wang Yue gave a loud yell, and everyone nearby who had been practicing punches or stances turned to look.

Meng Chuan's toes practically dug out a three-bedroom apartment. He hadn't expected Wang Yue to make things so awkward.

There was no helping it. Meng Chuan took his stance and returned the salute:

"National Compulsory Basic Fist Technique—Meng Chuan. Zero Qi-Blood stages. Please, teach me."

"I know that fatty. Rich kid, trying out life as an ordinary person. Who's the other guy?"

"The other guy's a master, too. He was born missing a screw, and he's going to be the next editor of the revised Guoyi Fist."

"??"

This person hadn't come last weekend, so he didn't understand what the other guy meant.

"Just watch. That fatty's nothing special, but the other guy, Meng Chuan, knows his Guoyi Fist. He might actually pull off an upset."

Even though the two of them were at the very bottom of the martial arts world, the people of Chu loved martial arts—and loved watching others fight even more. Plenty of promising fighters at the second and third Qi-Blood stages had gathered around.

With everyone crowding in, Wang Yue gradually came to his senses. He was starting to regret this. He knew Meng Chuan's Guoyi Fist better than anyone, and the whooshing sound of his punches was no fake.

"Let's not fight, Brother Chuan. How about I admit defeat?"

Wang Yue's family had been merchants for three generations. By the time it came to him, he'd inherited a remarkably thick skin and didn't care at all about a martial practitioner's honor.

"Too late. Take this!"

He'd already shouted an awkward challenge, and he'd pulled his pants halfway down. He had to see it through!

Meng Chuan stepped forward with his left foot and took the Bow Stance, then swiftly attacked with a punch from his right hand.

Wang Yue was, after all, at the first Qi-Blood stage. He easily dodged Meng Chuan's probing strike.

"Damn, Brother Chuan, you're serious?"

Wang Yue raised both hands like tiger claws, baring his teeth and roaring. Combined with his round, chubby body, it sent the people around them into fits of laughter.

"Here I come."

Wang Yue charged at Meng Chuan. His Ferocious Tiger Descends the Mountain had quite a presence, after all, he had the bulk to back it up.

Meng Chuan decided to avoid his charge. He pivoted on his left foot and retreated half a step to dodge the collision, then immediately stepped in and smashed an elbow into Wang Yue's big belly.

"Damn, this fatty's really got some meat on him."

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

"Hehe, Brother Chuan, I'm built for tanking. Your level's too low—you can't hurt me."

Meng Chuan ignored Wang Yue's taunt and rose to continue his assault. Wang Yue had completely abandoned defense and kept charging blindly with Ferocious Tiger Descends the Mountain.

"How do you deal with this? This guy's impossible to hurt."

"Can't be helped. But that's nothing. Those body-tempering types are even more ridiculous. You just have to wait for an opening."

The people around them chatted among themselves.

Facing this, Meng Chuan remained calm. Guoyi Fist was a basic fist technique and consumed very little stamina.

On top of that, his proficiency was nearing its limit. He fluidly changed his approach, switching from heavy punches to light strikes. His hands fluttered like butterflies, while his footwork flowed into the Sancai Stance, shifting freely.

His fists followed his heart, and his heart followed his will. Meng Chuan gradually got swept up in the fight. That was the charm of fist techniques—and his lifelong pursuit.

"Damn, look at Meng Chuan! His moves are gorgeous!"

"Yeah! His Qi-Blood's weak, but his fist techniques are incredible!"

The spectators gradually fell silent, watching closely. Being able to perform a fist technique like that was a skill in itself, worthy of respect.

As Meng Chuan got into the flow, Wang Yue completely lost his rhythm. With punches coming at him from all directions, he could only defend passively.

After a long, fierce battle, Meng Chuan finally found an opening and swept Wang Yue's legs out from under him. After hitting the ground, Wang Yue ran out of strength and surrendered.

Meng Chuan crouched down and helped Wang Yue up, then dusted him off.

"It's fine, Brother Chuan. There's no shame in losing to you."

Liu Ru led the applause. A moment later, thunderous clapping filled the entire training floor. Meng Chuan had put on a performance like something straight out of a textbook on fist techniques.

Many people began to look thoughtful. If even the most basic Wawa Fist could become so powerful when mastered, then what about the advanced fist techniques they'd learned...?

In an instant, people swarmed around the wooden dummies.

"I was here first! I get to go first!"

"Who's that? Quit shoving me!"

Even Liu Ru hadn't expected Meng Chuan to inspire everyone else. As the hall master's named disciple and an instructor, she was also responsible for evaluating the students.

Students who failed to meet the required standard were fined as part of their tuition. Meng Chuan had just done her a huge favor.

"Still got some strength left? Want me to spar with you?"

Liu Ru invited Meng Chuan to spar. She was much stronger than him, so feeding him moves could quickly improve his combat skills. It was also a way to repay him.

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

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

"Your leg isn't straight enough. You're not putting enough force into it."

"Your straight punch doesn't have enough drive. Your waist isn't adding power—hey! Where are you hitting, brat?"

Liu Ru only defended. After Meng Chuan threw a few moves, she would gently use her strength to force him back, then offer corrections.

Meng Chuan's last punch had been a little too underhanded. Liu Ru hit a bit harder than she meant to, sending him flying into the wall padded with soft rubber.

"This move is called Yueshan Baji—Punching a Man onto the Wall Like a Painting!"