Confrontation

After obtaining the dossiers from Wuyi College, Chen Chuan headed straight for the House of Fists. Once there, he found Yu Gang and explained what had happened today. "So," Yu Gang said, "you turned down their financial aid?" Chen Chuan answered frankly, "Yes, Mr. Yu. I don't want to be tied down by any so-called Mutual Aid Society." "As long as you've made up your mind," Yu Gang said. "Show me the student dossiers you got." Chen Chuan pulled the files from his satchel. Yu Gang took them, flipping through page by page, and remarked, "It's not that there's little information here, but that it's very vague. It'd be hard to formulate a detailed, sensible strategy based on this." Chen Chuan nodded. Aside from the students' names, ages, heights, weights, and areas of expertise, there was nothing truly specific. Yu Gang said, "Without accepting their aid, you have no way to gain an informational advantage. You'll have to rely on your own strength to clash head-on with those students." Chen Chuan merely smiled dismissively. "Then clash we will." In fact, after mastering the Spirit-Startling Fist, he already had the confidence to trade blows with upperclassmen who possessed jin. Mentally, he had still been somewhat cautious before. Yet for some reason, after yesterday's chaotic street brawl, though nothing seemed to have changed physically, that sense of looking up to upperclassmen appeared to have vanished all at once. Noticing his demeanor, Yu Gang asked in a low voice, "Kid, did you run into someone after heading back yesterday?" Surprised by Yu Gang's sharp intuition, Chen Chuan saw no reason to hide anything. "I was ambushed on the road yesterday by suspected gang members." Yu Gang looked at him and said, "Looks like you've seen blood. That's fine too." He did not pry into the specifics. Running into gang attacks around here was nothing out of the ordinary; people living in the West City dealt with gangsters almost every day. Besides, Chen Chuan was Nian Fuli's nephew, so there was no need for him to ask further about such matters. "Back to the retest," he continued. "There are ways to fight with information, and ways to fight without it. My advice is that over the coming month, you need more actual combat experience against opponents of different styles. Lu Ke isn't enough to serve as your sparring partner anymore. "So you can visit some boxing clubs and spar with them under the pretext of an exchange. Plenty of fighters won't turn down a worthy opponent. But you have to pick the right clubs. Some don't think like that—if you don't have backing, they'll only look for ways to cripple you." There was actually another option: the underground rings run by the two major gangs, where one could encounter all sorts of opponents. But considering Chen Chuan was Nian Fuli's nephew, Yu Gang chose not to mention it. Chen Chuan nodded. The first place that came to mind was Xiujiang Boxing Club. It had left a decent impression on him last time, and it was close by. Why not start there? After midday, he finished today's basic training and left the House of Fists early, jogging all the way to Xiujiang Boxing Club in Xigang District. Arriving relatively early, he found the lightbox outside unlit. There were only a few scattered trainees inside, with the rest all being fighters belonging to the club. Xiao Liang was using resistance bands to practice striking. When he saw Chen Chuan walk in, he froze for a moment before remembering something. Coach Gu had told him that day to let him know if this young man returned. But looking at Chen Chuan now, Xiao Liang wondered if he had mistaken him for someone else—the young man was good-looking and lacked the fierce, feral edge typical of someone who fought year-round. Stepping forward to greet him, Xiao Liang smiled. "Hey there! Haven't seen you in a while. Care to get some practice in first?" Chen Chuan got straight to the point. "I heard one can spar with fighters here. Would that be possible today?" Xiao Liang felt a twinge of wariness. He looked Chen Chuan over and said hesitantly, "Well... how about you wait a bit? Our coach just stepped out..." Just then, a voice called out, "Why look for the coach? Let me give it a go." A burly man rose from the mats and walked over. He appeared about twenty-six or twenty-seven, with rugged facial features and dense, solid muscles. A white sweat towel hung around his neck, and his eyes stayed fixed squarely on Chen Chuan as he walked. Xiao Liang hurriedly said, "This is a senior fighter from our club, Senior Brother Yan." Senior Brother Yan came up to Chen Chuan. He had originally thought Chen Chuan was the kind of person who learned a few moves, thought himself invincible, and came imitating others to challenge dojos, intending to intimidate him. But Chen Chuan looked entirely calm, and not with a forced bravado either. Yan said, "Interesting. How about fighting me?" Chen Chuan was not picky about opponents, and he wanted to test the mettle of a senior fighter from Xiujiang Boxing Club. "Sure." "Using protective gear?" Chen Chuan said, "No need." "Gutsy." Senior Brother Yan grinned. "Don't cry in pain in a bit." Chen Chuan smiled faintly. "Hardly." "Tough. I like that." Senior Brother Yan gave him a thumbs-up, yanked off the sweat towel, and went to the side to warm up. Chen Chuan took off his outer coat, remaining in just his shirt, and loosened his limbs. His warm-up routine followed the booklet Yu Gang had given him. These movements were not exclusive to Wuyi College; the booklet had been published more than a decade ago and had long since circulated outside, adopted by countless practitioners. Anyone trying to discern his style from it would glean nothing and could only wait until he stepped into the ring. It was not actually time for ring sparring yet, but people always loved a spectacle. Before, the sparring partners were always the same few faces; now that a newcomer had arrived, everyone's interest was piqued. The people present gathered around, and those who had been training also stopped to watch the fun. Someone even brought out several watermelons, slicing them open on the spot and passing wedges out to everyone. Someone started jeering, "Old Yan, go easy on him! Don't frighten our little friend." "Yeah, don't make him wet himself like that guy last time." "Hey, we're eating watermelon here! Gross! Piss off!" "Hahahaha..." Laughter broke out around the ring. Training was dull, and with rare entertainment at hand, everyone let loose. Senior Brother Yan curled his lip. "He won't get that chance." Once both had sufficiently warmed up, they stepped into the ring one after the other. This was Chen Chuan's first time stepping onto a boxing canvas. The mat beneath his feet had a slight spring to it, making it somewhat tricky to anchor his center of gravity. Senior Brother Yan spotted it immediately. He narrowed his eyes and said nothing. Since this was not an official bout, no referee was needed; how far the fight went was entirely up to the two of them. Remembering the punching bag from that day, Xiao Liang suddenly felt uneasy and called up toward the ring, "Please, don't hit too hard!" Failing to realize the warning was mainly directed at Chen Chuan, Senior Brother Yan said impatiently, "I know what I'm doing." Someone eagerly pulled the cord, and the ring bell clanged. Senior Brother Yan pressed forward immediately. As he advanced, his hands were held one in front of the other, but the front hand was low while the rear hand was high, and the ball of his lead foot tapped the mat constantly, as though ready to lash out with a kick at any moment. Chen Chuan settled into the stance of Greater Sanshou, dropping his center of gravity slightly. Though common enough that anyone could throw a few moves together, once assumed with proper form, it exuded a profound solidity. Ordinary people might not spot the difference, but many present recognized it at a glance. The jeering died down, and the onlookers grew noticeably more attentive. Senior Brother Yan also cast aside any lingering contempt. Seeing how steady Chen Chuan stood, he refused to remain idle. Lifting his lead foot, he feinted a kick, only to pivot his body into a spinning back sweep. Yet at the very instant Yan launched his move, a light flashed in Chen Chuan's eyes. Stepping forward in a sudden burst, he executed the "Pushing-Mill Hand" from Sanshou, pressing straight against Yan's waist and hip. Before Yan's sweeping leg could complete its arc, Chen Chuan drove him down from midair, slamming him onto the canvas with a heavy thud. Unless facing a formidable foe or sudden peril, Chen Chuan did not maintain synchronization with the Second Self for extended periods. Instead, he engaged it only at the precise moment of striking. This kept it discreet and unpredictable while conserving the duration of his merge. Seeing Senior Brother Yan splayed across the canvas in such disarray, someone below booed and said, "Old Yan underestimated him! He didn't even probe first. Charging in without knowing the kid's foundation—talk about looking down on an opponent." "Seriously! In a real match, getting pinned to the floor like that would've been the end of it." Of course, they were only talking. A boxing gym operated as a business and needed to draw eyes; fighters had to look good as well as fight well. Whoever went up there would feel embarrassed not to show off a flashy move before the crowd. Having landed his blow, Chen Chuan did not press the attack, stepping back immediately. This was a sparring session, not a life-and-death struggle, and he was on someone else's turf. Moreover, he still hoped to spar with the gym's coach, so he had to save some face for the home crowd. Senior Brother Yan scrambled back to his feet. He acted nonchalant—taking hits was par for the course in ring fighting, and anyone unable to control their temper had no business stepping into the ring. Yet he knew Chen Chuan had held back. There was no need for thanks, for he knew the best way to return the courtesy was to bring out his true strength and knock his opponent down in kind. ... ...