But, Song Shuhang realized immediately, it wasn’t because the opponent’s fist were lacking in power, it was because he became stronger.
Body Tempering Liquid allowed his body to reach the limit of the human strength. After a round of foundation establishing fist techniques, his body’s inner qualities had undergone an earthshaking change.
At this time, Nan Haomeng guffawed excitedly, "You really are a true master, such impressive claw technique."
Unable to retract his buckled fist, he struck with a knee without hesitation.
Knee blows in traditional sanda are not allowed, but Nan Haomeng was not in a sanda tournament. Despite his large physique and foolish laughter, he was not an idiot. In a fight, do what’s the most effective!
Song Shuhang sighed, his dragon-clawed hands jerking upwards. They were claws like dragon dancing and clawing.
What danced was not only the dragon claws, but also the snatched prey.
Nan Haomeng couldn’t believe it as he felt his two-hundred-twenty-plus pound body leave the ground!
Moreover, his opponent used one arm.
Even Nan Haomeng’s heart skipped a beat. Such terrifying and bewildering strength, not only did his opponent pick up his good-for-nothing juniors with one arm; even a chunky guy like him was easily thrown!
But, I’m not that easily defeated!
"Hou!" Nan Haomeng let out a loud road and lowered his body, hoping to forcefully break the fall. At the same time, his right hand withdrew, waiting to launch a tempest of attacks when he lands.
It was then that Song Shuhang made a move again.
Basic Fist Number Two. Fists like shooting stars—tens of punches were unleashed in the blink of an eye, continuously landing blows on Nan Haomeng.
It was so fast that it surpassed Nan Haomeng’s reaction time. So, the lunkhead acted as a generous sandbag in midair.
Song Shuhang did not recite the ‘fist scripture formula’ as he threw his punches.
First, he had no time, and second, if he did recite the fist formula, spiritual qi would be attached to his fists, possibly opening a hole in his opponent with a single punch.
At that time, waiting for Song Shuhang would be solid jail bars.
If he were unlucky, he might enter with a daisy, and come out with a sunflower.1
Moreover, when he threw punches, he purposely withdrew half his strength.
Even so, his tempered fists were still terrifyingly heavy. Tens of punches rained down all over Nan Haomeng who was thus knocked into a daze.
Nan Haomeng… bit the dust!
Song Shuhang retracted his fist, and let out a muddled breath. It gave the feeling of a master’s demeanor.
Nan Haomeng rubbed several areas of his body painfully, and asked, "What sort of fighting style is that? Ancient Chinese martial arts?"
"Basic Fist, Number Two." Song Shuhang had an unusually serious tone.
"Basic Fist Number 2? What the hell is that?!" Nan Haomeng blurted out.
Song Shuhang immediately felt melancholic. If he could, of course he would announce an awe-inspiring and deceptive name. Sadly, he was destined to have no connection with cool names.
Seeing Song Shuhang’s unfriendly expression, Nan Haomeng accepted his defeat, "I lost!"
He sighed. They were on totally different levels. He had incredible inborn might, yet his opponent was even stronger.
He had strong sanda fundamentals, but his opponents fist techniques were superior to his sanda.
"A wise decision." Song Shuhang nodded, "Then, based on the custom, the loser must pay a price."
Nan Haomeng replied as a hoodlum would, "I don’t have money."
He shrunk his neck—no big deal, at most he’ll just take another beating; he’s got no money, but he’s got a life! He would not foster the terrible atmosphere of extortions and scams.
"I don’t need money." Song Shuhang said, but felt otherwise, he has recently been short on money. "I need you to help me investigate a few things."
One man’s power is limited, but the delinquents had their own sources of information.
Maybe he could find out from the delinquents who investigated him yesterday.
Although he was already set on asking Senior Medicine Master for help, having more preparations wouldn’t hurt!
After short while.
Nan Haomeng scratched his head, "You want me to find people to help you search for the man who investigated you yesterday afternoon?"
Things like this are not difficult. One only needed to know which student the investigator inquired, and through that student, infer the appearance of the investigator, then gradually deduce the investigator’s identity. If that did not work, he had a way to pull up the security camera footage at the school entrance; he had a solid network at school.
But, even if he lost a fight, why should he help Song Shuhang?
He only wanted an opponent to fight, but did not agree to help once he lost. In the worst case, he’d just fight another round!
"You’ll help me, right? Senior Nan!" Song Shuhang squatted next to Nan Haomeng, squinting and revealing a dangerous look in his eyes.
If Nan Haomeng were to dare blurt out a ‘no,’ he’d kill but not bury!
Nan Haomeng’s expression changed dramatically, and he scratched his head, laughing foolishly, "I got it. I’ll let some good-for-nothings and their friends help, but I can’t promise you I’ll get results."
He felt in that instant that if he hadn’t agreed… something terrible would happen!
Song Shuhang smiled from ear to ear, "Well then, thanks, Senior Nan!"
After the fight, Song Shuhang felt very happy. This fight not only let him stretch his muscles and joints, but also helped deepen his understanding of ❮Basic Buddhist Fist Technique❯.
This realization was different from the spoon-feeding realization in the ‘illusional space.’ This type of realization from a fight was more flexible. It allowed Song Shuhang to execute ❮Basic Buddhist Fist Technique❯ more efficiently. It could serve to save more stamina, and create more qi and blood!
Real combat experience would always be superior to theoretic knowledge!
‘Maybe I should find more opponents to practice my fist technique? Hmm, I’ll take note to ask Medicine Master tomorrow whether or not real combat holds significant meaning for me at this stage.’ Song Shuhang thought.
He returned to the dorms without a hitch.
Song Shuhang habitually opened up Nine Provinces Number one Group and saw that there were many unread messages.
First was the chat log from the afternoon, when Medicine Master retrieved two Foundation Establishment Techniques for Song Shuhang.
The next message came two minutes ago, from Immortal Fortune Teller Copper Trigram. "This immortal master calculated that, after a little while, it’ll soon be the end of ‘True Monarch White’s’ one-hundred-fifty-year secluded meditation, right?"
Northern River’s Loose Cultivator sent a 😑, and after a while, he typed, "A cultivation maniac, and a model of my generation. After coming out this time, he should be near Seventh Stage Spiritual Venerable, right? I reckon it won’t be long till we’ll have to address Senior White as Venerable White."
"The most important problem is, he’ll definitely contact us when he gets out, right? When the time comes, who will go receive him?" a member with the ID of Scholar Drunken Moon followed up.
Scholar Drunken Moon... Song Shuhang felt very familiar with this name. It was someone who appeared often in the chat, but for unknown reasons, had no presence. Shuhang would forget him immediately just as he turned away.
When Scholar Drunken Moon’s message was sent, the group became awkwardly silent.
After a long while, Northern River’s Loose Cultivator typed, "I’m going to say it now, I went last time. There’s no way it’s my turn this time!"
From his tone, it seemed like receiving someone who leaves seclusion was an extremely terrifying thing? Even the hospitable Northern River’s Loose Cultivator was scared out of character?
Thrice Reckless Mad Saber popped up, "Recently, I’ve felt my realm begin to stir, and I’ll be meditating in seclusion for a few years. Don’t you guys miss me!"
"Thrice Reckless, who do you think you’re tricking? You only reached the final stages of Spiritual Emperor Realm not long ago, it’s still a while before you have a breakthrough 😏" Northern River’s Loose Cultivator countered.
"I’ve had a fortuitous encounter recently, that’s why my realm is skyrocketing. It doesn’t matter if you guys believe it or not, as long as I do. Anyways, I’ll be off mediating in seclusion, so whatever trouble may occur, don’t think of asking me for help." Thrice Reckless Mad Saber adamantly said.
"What’s the rush?" Immortal Fortune Teller Copper Trigram said nonchalantly, "It’s not like he’s coming out right now, there’s still a long time to go. Things will fall in place when the time comes, there’ll always be a way out."
"Fortune Teller, could you possibly have a brilliant scheme?" Northern River’s Loose Cultivator asked.
Immortal Fortune Teller Copper Trigram, "Hmm, I do have an excellent plan. But I’ll never tell you, Northern River, so give up."
Damn it! Northern River clenched his fists. Your mom’s balls. I’ll torture this fortuneteller to death in the battle three months later at the summit of the Forbidden City, and beat you till even your own mother won’t be able to recognize you.
Song Shuhang scrolled through the chat log, wanting to send a message to show his presence. However, he didn’t know why, but when Immortal Fortune Teller Copper Trigram mentioned his ‘brilliant scheme,’ he felt a chill run all the way from his forehead to his chrysanthemum.
He had a premonition—if he interrupted, it’d only bring him problems.
So, Song Shuhang shook his head resolutely, turned off his computer, climbed onto his bed and slept.
