Fist Sets the Measure, Twelve Bridge Hands

Lin Qing turned his head to see the master of the hall, Hong Yuan, standing not far away, watching him with piercing eyes.

"Average aptitude, yet you managed to reach the entry level of Iron Wire Fist within ten days—only two days slower than Wang Cheng."

"This perseverance is quite commendable."

Lin Qing glanced at Wang Cheng, who was still silently practicing his punches in the corner, and felt a surge of astonishment in his heart.

This man had actually mastered it two days earlier than he had.

Hong Yuan stepped forward and squeezed Lin Qing's arm, feeling the taut muscles and the faint flow of blood and qi, then gave a slight nod.

"It seems you have put in no small amount of hard work."

Being recognized by Hong Yuan brought a wave of joy to Lin Qing's heart: "Thank you for the praise, Master. This disciple is dull of talent; I can only compensate for my clumsiness with diligence."

A flicker of appreciation crossed Hong Yuan's eyes before he turned to a disciple nearby and ordered: "No more waiting. Go and summon all the new disciples to the front courtyard."

Before long, eight new disciples, including Lin Qing, were gathered in the front courtyard's training ground.

Hong Yuan stood before them with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over their young faces.

"You have been initiated for some time now, and your foundations are somewhat solidified."

"Today, I shall teach you the striking techniques of the Iron Wire Fist—the Twelve Bridge Hands!"

"Watch closely; I will demonstrate this only once."

Hong Yuan's voice rang out like a great bell, and his figure suddenly moved!

He stepped into the center, his fists striking out like dragons emerging from the sea, alternating between the rigid, forceful strikes of the Hard Bridge and the coiling, strangling movements of the Soft Bridge.

Straight bridges for direct kills, splitting bridges for cleaving, fixed bridges for momentum, and inch bridges for focused strikes.

His movements were wide and sweeping, fierce and explosive.

As his arms swung, the dozens of iron rings rattled like a sudden storm, whipping up sharp gusts of wind that stung the skin of those watching!

"Rigid, soft, pressing, straight, splitting, fixed, and inch; lift, hold, move, control, and settle the heavens and earth."

"The Twelve Bridge Hands are the core of our Iron Wire Fist's offense and defense!"

"The fist is divided into fixed and inch; use the tendons to drive the power, force penetrating to the finger bones, unmatched in its ferocity."

As Hong Yuan demonstrated, he explained the essentials of generating power.

His moves were not complex, but every strike contained immense destructive power—simple and efficient.

Reaching the climax of his demonstration, Hong Yuan let out a sudden, explosive shout that cracked like thunder on flat ground.

He dropped his stance, and his right palm struck out like lightning toward a waist-high black boulder at the edge of the yard!

"Boom!"

A dull, heavy thud, like a strike against thick leather, erupted!

Everyone felt the ground beneath their feet tremble slightly.

As they focused their eyes, their expressions shifted to one of pure horror!

That incredibly hard black stone had been shattered by a single palm strike, dust and debris cascading down.

Even the earth beneath it had suddenly sunk three inches.

Hong Yuan stood with his palm retracted, his breathing steady.

It was as if that earth-shattering strike had not come from him at all.

"If that were a person, one strike would surely..."

A new disciple stood dumbfounded, muttering to himself.

Lin Qing's heart was also pounding violently; looking at the shattered stone and the sunken ground, he felt his throat go dry.

To erupt with thousands of jin of force in an instant?

The so-called fighters of his past life were, in the face of such power, like children playing games.

The martial path of this world was truly terrifying!

By evening, Lin Qing returned to Yongning Street.

Before he even neared Benevolent World Hall, he heard the sound of crying and shouting.

The atmosphere on the street was tense; seven or eight men dressed in motley short tunics, with blades and clubs hanging from their waists, were going door-to-door collecting "incense money."

The leader was a middle-aged man with a face full of flab and a fierce, vicious gaze, known as Lord Leopard.

Chen Bao was a minor leader of the White Horse Gang, in charge of collecting incense money for dozens of streets in the outer city.

This White Horse Gang was entrenched in the White Horse Temple outside the city; they were both bandits and a gang, possessing overt influence within the city walls, specializing in the collection of incense money.

Because they frequently made generous donations to the local government and greased the right palms, the authorities tended to turn a blind eye to their activities.

At this moment, the house of Old Fan next door was in complete disarray. Old Fan sat slumped on the ground, blood streaming from a head wound, while his wife wept nearby. Their son, Fan Kui, was pinned down by two gang members, his eyes bulging with rage.

"You know the consequences if you can't pay the protection money next time," Chen Bao sneered.

Lin Qing understood clearly: the Fan family was being made an example of because they hadn't paid their dues in full.

On the other side, He Xiaoya was being shielded behind her father, Old Man He.

Lord Leopard's gaze swept over He Xiaoya's delicate face, a flicker of desire crossing his eyes.

But seeing the heavy hammer clutched in Old Man He's hands, he ultimately felt a measure of caution. He merely chuckled twice and did not press the matter further.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Inside Benevolent World Hall, Lin Wan, Lin Qing's sister, cried out as she was dragged out by several gang members.

"Heh, this young lady of the Lin family is becoming more radiant by the day," Chen Bao said, stroking his beard with a lecherous grin.

"Lord Leopard, what wind has blown you here?"

Lin Qing suppressed his anger and spoke with a calm, neutral expression.

Chen Bao was no saint; any slight misstep in his response could easily result in a brutal beating.

In the past, when his father Lin Qing was alive, Chen Bao had feared his father's prowess as a martial artist and dared not act so brazenly.

But now, things were different.

The two siblings were left to guard the legacy of Benevolent World Hall alone.

One wrong move would lead to total ruin.

Chen Bao turned around, his gaze quickly falling upon the approaching Lin Qing, lingering for a moment on his training attire.

"Young Master Lin, I hear you've joined the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall?" Lord Leopard asked with a mocking smile.

"I joined a month ago," Lin Qing replied, his eyes fixed on his sister.

"Release her. We're here to collect money, not to kidnap women," Chen Bao commanded his subordinates.

Only then did Lin Wan hurry to Lin Qing's side, her heart still racing with lingering fear.

If she were truly alone and helpless, she would have been carried off without anyone to stand up for her.

Lin Qing placed a hand on his sister's arm to comfort her.

"Sister, it's alright."

"Young Master, when will this month's protection money be paid?" Lord Leopard sauntered over.

Lin Qing knew this was not the time for a confrontation.

He forced a smile, counted out two hundred copper coins from his purse, and handed them over.

"Lord Leopard, I have it ready. Please, count it."

Lord Leopard didn't take it, instead eyeing him askance. "There's a war in the North, and the gang's expenses are high. Starting this month, the protection money has been raised across the board. It's three hundred coins now!"

"Lord Leopard, business at the medicine hall has been dismal lately, this..."

Lin Qing offered a bitter smile.

"I don't care about your excuses. If you can't pay, that family over there is your example."

Chen Bao sneered, gesturing toward the Fan family.

Lin Qing wore a look of pained reluctance, but he gritted his teeth, counted out another hundred coins to make the total three hundred, and handed them over.

Only then did Chen Bao weigh the coins with satisfaction and tuck them into his robe.

Just then, Pan An, who had crept up to Lord Leopard's side, whispered a few words, his eyes darting toward Lin Qing with malicious intent.

Chen Bao's expression darkened as he listened. He sneered and walked toward Lin Qing, his tone turning hostile. "You little brat, I heard you got lucky at Azure Cloud Ridge a while back and found a Red Blood Ganoderma?"

"Why did you offer it to the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall instead of thinking to honor our White Horse Gang's Third Master Shi?"

"Do you think our Third Master Shi can't afford the price, or that he can't protect you?"

Lin Qing's heart skipped a beat, and he cursed Pan An for stirring up trouble.

Outwardly, he remained composed. He met Lord Leopard's gaze directly and cupped his hands in a salute. "That is not the case. That Red Blood Ganoderma was a family heirloom left by my late father."

"My father once said that if we ever faced hardship, we could take the Red Blood Ganoderma to seek help from Old Master Hong. My ability to join the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall was entirely due to the old friendship between my father and Master Hong."

"Offering the Red Blood Ganoderma was simply following that path as a gesture of respect for my apprenticeship; I had no intention of slighting the White Horse Gang or Third Master Shi."

"It is only because I am of little consequence and have no one to introduce me to your esteemed gang that I dared not intrude rashly."

Hearing this, Chen Bao's opinion of Lin Qing rose slightly, and his expression softened.

It was true that Hong Yuan of the Iron Thread Fist had been friends with Lin Qing's father; he had heard whispers of this himself.

The Lin boy's choice to offer the item to a martial hall with existing ties was reasonable and justifiable.

If he were to press the issue further, it would make the White Horse Gang look unreasonable and needlessly offend the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall.

He slapped Lin Qing's shoulder heavily, using no small amount of force.

"You've got a silver tongue, kid. If you come across any good medicinal herbs next time, remember to bring them to the White Horse Gang first."

"Third Master is righteous and will never treat you unfairly!"

Hearing the thinly veiled threat, Lin Qing hurriedly replied, "Certainly, certainly. If I have any more good fortune, I will definitely prioritize offering it to Lord Leopard."

Only then did Chen Bao grunt, taking his men to continue extorting the other neighbors.

Lin Qing watched the backs of Chen Bao and his men as they walked away, then cast a cold glance at Pan An, who stood at the entrance of Security Hall across the street, looking entirely unbothered.

"Security Hall, the Pan family..."

A murderous intent surged within Lin Qing's heart.

This grudge was now officially set in stone.