Upon returning home, the first thing Chen Chuan did was use an alarm clock to measure the synchronization duration with his Second Self.
Even though he hadn't ultimately defeated Coach Gu this time, he had come away thoroughly satisfied, which led him to believe there would be a substantial improvement.
The result was indeed a pleasant surprise: the synchronization time had increased by a full twenty-odd seconds over his previous baseline.
In combat, a single second could decide everything. An increase of more than twenty seconds pushed his total synchronization duration past one minute and thirty seconds, giving him far greater confidence in passing the re-examination.
He rose from the edge of the bed and looked out the window. Through that previous battle, he had also confirmed the path he needed to take going forward.
At this stage, trying to refine intricate techniques was practically useless. Whether in combat experience or fighting finesse, there was no way he could outmatch those who had started years ahead of him.
Instead, he should capitalize on his Second Self's immunity to injury, sparing no cost to unleash every ounce of power within that window of synchronization to bring down his opponent—why use two strikes if one would do? As for his shortcomings, he could easily find ways to make up for them after clearing the re-examination.
He looked down at his palm and clenched his fist.
Thanks to his tireless efforts, the duration he could sustain the breathing technique had grown longer and longer. Under its steady maintenance and drive, he could clearly feel himself progressing each day.
For now, because the Second Self was nearly identical to him, the higher his own physical fitness rose, the stronger the Second Self became. With nearly a month remaining, he could fully elevate his strength by another level.
Strictly speaking, visiting other boxing clubs was no longer necessary; strengthening his fundamental training was what mattered most.
However, looking at the candidate profiles provided by Wuyi College, he noticed that three out of five were skilled in takedowns and throws. He might very well encounter such an opponent during the re-examination.
His grappling and clinch work were comparatively weak. Lacking the time to attend to everything, he inevitably had gaps in those areas, so he decided to visit another boxing club known for its throws to broaden his horizons.
There was one club that fit his requirements perfectly: the Fanlang Boxing Club, whose reputation in Yangzhi City was even greater than that of the Xiujiang Boxing Club.
Fanlang Fist was openly advertised as a style centered on takedowns and throws, which was also its defining feature.
In truth, after being exposed to combat, he had gradually come to realize that modern martial styles were all eclectic and inclusive. No one could get by relying purely on a single style; those who practiced throws had to train their strikes and kicks, and those who focused on striking also trained in takedowns.
Just like the Xiujiang Boxing Club, many of the moves Coach Gu used were modified techniques that bore little resemblance to original Xiujiang Fist.
The Fanlang Boxing Club had a fairly good reputation and was open to welcoming outside inquiries. So the following day, after finishing his training at the House of Fists, he headed to this gym located in the Wangyang District on the eastern side of the city.
The resident coach at the Fanlang gym was very cautious. Hearing that Chen Chuan wanted to learn about grappling techniques, he did not take to the ring to spar. Instead, he personally demonstrated many of Fanlang Fist's characteristics, providing plenty of genuine, practical insight. Without realizing it, Chen Chuan spent the entire afternoon there.
Before Chen Chuan left, the coach even gifted him a booklet he had written himself and mentioned that if needed, students from the club could be arranged to spar and train with him—also free of charge for the first week. After a week, as long as the fee was paid, a coach could provide daily private training without issue.
Although Chen Chuan hadn't actually sparred with anyone, he felt the trip had been well worth it. After offering his sincere thanks, he took his leave, and the coach politely saw him out.
A senior fighter in the gym was thoroughly puzzled and asked, "Coach Huang, why take such good care of that kid?"
Coach Huang replied, "We run an open business; if we can avoid offending people, we avoid offending them. That young man is no simple fellow. To have mastered the breathing technique at such a young age, and to carry an air that clearly shows he has experienced real combat—even drawn blood—who knows how far he might go in the future? Consider it doing him a favor."
The fighter curled his lip, thinking to himself, *I've never seen you be this polite to anyone else.*
That was only natural, of course. Boxing clubs treated people according to their background and strength. Without backing or ability, who would bother giving you the time of day? But when someone looked dangerous and potentially well-connected, it was best not to cross them.
After returning home, Chen Chuan flipped through the booklet. It contained Coach Huang's personal combat reflections, mostly leaning toward throws and clinch work, while also touching on how to counter and resist grappling jin.
This wasn't really a secret; Yu Gang had explained it in considerable detail as well. Yet looking at it from a different perspective gave him fresh insights.
Over the days that followed, aside from intensifying his conditioning, he practiced Greater Sanshou over and over again.
Though this foundational routine appeared simple, the more he practiced it, the more depth he discovered within it.
Lately, however, he constantly felt he could do better, yet he couldn't put his finger on what was missing. His posture and force delivery seemed entirely correct, but there was a persistent sense of discordance, as though his power couldn't penetrate cleanly and the full strength of his body couldn't be brought to bear.
This sensation became especially pronounced after he mastered the Spirit-Startling Fist.
Because he couldn't resolve the issue on his own, he made a point of consulting Yu Gang one afternoon.
After listening, Yu Gang pondered for a moment before speaking. "The reason you're experiencing this is actually because your progress is too fast. A person requires an adaptation period. Your mind has only just adjusted to and grown familiar with directing the moves, but as your physical attributes increase day by day, you feel out of sync the very next day. Under the breathing technique, this sensation is magnified even further."
Chen Chuan was somewhat surprised. "Is that so..."
Yu Gang said, "It's completely normal. As I mentioned before, under prolonged maintenance of the breathing technique, you will enter an extended period of rapid growth once you hit a certain stage. You are clearly right in the middle of it.
"During this phase, you will keep feeling this way. You can either wait for this surge to pass, or you can step up your training and rely on your own talent and effort to adapt to these changes.
"This is actually a good thing. My advice is that during this phase of practice, don't chase explosive power or speed. You can adopt a more relaxed rhythm when drilling moves. Take every technique slowly, and feel the participation of every part of your body with complete focus.
"Throughout this process, remember that you must sustain the breathing technique; you cannot slacken for a second. Without the breathing technique, it becomes nothing more than calisthenics, and its effect will be negligible."
Hearing these words, Chen Chuan finally understood how to solve the problem. After thanking Yu Gang, he returned and followed the guidance to slow his rhythm while firmly maintaining the breathing technique.
After several days of training this way, he truly felt that awkward disconnect gradually fading. By the time only two days remained before the re-examination, he seemed to have regained complete mastery over his body once more.
Yet this did not mean his steady progress had halted; on the contrary, he had advanced even further than before.
Leaving the House of Fists that day, he jogged along his usual route and soon arrived at the spot where he had been ambushed before. Even after so many days, remnants of the fight still lingered. He cast a brief glance and ran past, when suddenly a shout came from above: "Hey, young man!"
Chen Chuan looked up to see a spiky-haired teenager standing on the balcony railing of a residential building, waving vigorously at him. "I was planning to come down and help you that day! Hey..." He bumped his fists together, looking eager for action. "Why don't you come up and have a round with me?"
Chen Chuan paused, smiled slightly, and replied, "Sure."
The boy's eyes lit up instantly.
Guided by the youth's directions, Chen Chuan found footholds on a perimeter wall, scaled it swiftly, and soon vaulted onto the balcony. The boy offered a friendly fist. "I'm Wei Dong. What's your name?"
Chen Chuan tapped his fist against his. "Chen Chuan."
Wei Dong said impatiently, "Come on, let's head to the roof. There's plenty of space up there, and no one to bother us. We can spar properly." He waved a hand and led the way.
Chen Chuan followed him out of the apartment and up an external steel staircase to the rooftop. Before he could even survey the surroundings, Wei Dong came charging straight at him with boundless enthusiasm.
Seeing him rush forward, Chen Chuan simply lifted a leg and kicked straight out.
Two minutes later.
Wei Dong lay on the ground bruised and swollen, staring up at the sky as if questioning the meaning of life.
Chen Chuan sat off to the side, looking around. "You have quite a complete set of workout equipment up here."
Wei Dong rolled over and sat up, rubbing his sore face. He said with pride, "Pretty thorough, right? An old man left it all to me."
Chen Chuan noticed a nameplate on a sit-up bench engraved with the words *Manufactured in the 60th Year of Jianzhi*. That was over thirty years ago. These truly were old relics, though they had been kept in fairly good condition.
He asked, "Did you learn your boxing from him?"
Wei Dong said, "Yeah. I practiced every day according to his methods. Later, when he passed away, he left all this to me. Looking back, what he told me most was that I looked like his grandson. Actually, I saw a picture of his grandson—I didn't look like him at all."
Chen Chuan's gaze caught on something. He stood up, walked over to a worn wooden table, and picked up a reddish-brown student registration card. Flipping it open, he found it somewhat coincidental, yet entirely plausible. He asked, "You're also taking the exam for Wuyi College this year?"
"Yeah, didn't I mention that?" Wei Dong scratched his head. "On the first day I went to register for admissions, I saw you there. After that, I saw you passing through the alley down below every day."
Chen Chuan said, "Is that so?" He set the card back down. "The re-examination is in two days. It looks like you'll be there too."
"Definitely!" Wei Dong threw two punches into the air. "That old man said his greatest wish was to see his grandson get into Wuyi. Even though I'm not his grandson, I can get in just the same. And I'll be even better than his grandson ever was!"
Chen Chuan looked at him, nodded, and set the card back onto the table. He turned toward the stairs, offering a wave. "Then I'll see you at Wuyi, Wei Dong."
"All right! See you at Wuyi, Chen Chuan!"
Chapter 28