“Fischer, if you put too much stock in results, it’ll twist a person out of shape.”
Ma Yifan stared at Fischer with a look as aggrieved as a neglected wife shut away in the inner chambers.
“You don’t trust my judgment?”
“Besides, it’s not like he shamelessly insisted on coming. I invited him!”
“…Fine.”
Ma Yifan did carry some weight in this little circle. Fischer clicked her tongue, then rather reluctantly slipped her hand out of her thin leather glove.
Zhou Kai did not take her earlier words to heart either, and extended his hand.
Her fingers carried a chill. They touched Zhou Kai’s palm lightly, like a dragonfly skimming water, then parted at once.
The perfunctoriness in her tone faded somewhat, replaced by a measure of formulaic courtesy.
“Fischer Vitas.”
“Zhou Kai.”
Zhou Kai’s gaze was calm, without the slightest ripple.
Before coming, Ma Yifan had already told him everything.
These people, to put it bluntly, were a group of wealthy young heirs with too much energy to burn.
They wanted to learn martial arts?
With their family backgrounds, they could casually hire champions from all kinds of competitions as sparring partners.
But the problem was, they didn’t want to suffer, and they especially didn’t want to be disciplined.
Among them, aside from Ma Yifan, who could be considered genuinely fond of fists and kicks, the others were purely in it for the novelty and fun.
Ask them to honestly take a master, hire some stern-faced uncle to watch them practice horse stance every day?
They might as well go inherit the family business.
And so, Zhou Kai’s opportunity had come.
He was young, good-looking enough, and his skills were solid.
He could serve as a sparring partner and as a playmate. He fit their needs perfectly.
…
Fischer Vitas. Her father was a locally somewhat famous foreign businessman, while she herself had been born and raised in Chixing.
Aside from that mixed-race face and tongue-twisting name, there was no difference at all between her words, actions, and those of a local.
The two beside her—one was named Yuan Duo, whose family was in real estate.
The other was Feng Mingtai, whose family ran industrial businesses.
They were a few years younger than Ma Yifan, but they had grown up together since they were toddlers.
Since Ma Yifan had spoken up, they naturally would not refuse him face.
So among this group, the only one who truly needed to be handled was the woman called Fischer.
Zhou Kai did not find it troublesome.
In theory, with his current strength, being a private instructor was more than enough.
When one had real substance in one’s belly, one’s spine naturally stiffened.
Fischer sized Zhou Kai up, but doubts were already rising in her heart.
This man was too calm. So calm it was almost excessive.
With her family background and appearance, what man, upon seeing her, wasn’t attentively courteous, with something else hidden in his eyes?
Yet Zhou Kai’s gaze remained as focused as ever—cool, objective, and without any unnecessary warmth.
It made her feel, on one hand, that this person was still fairly decent, but on the other, for no reason at all, a faint sense of disappointment.
The advantages she had always taken pride in were worthless before him.
Her pale blue eyes shifted, and she took the initiative to break the silence.
“Yifan vouching for you alone isn’t enough.”
“What kind of master can’t we hire? So if you want our money, you’ll have to prove your value first.”
Zhou Kai spat out two words: “I’m cheap.”
Fischer froze.
She had imagined countless possible answers. For example, him boasting that his practical combat ability was the real deal and that he simply disdained competing, or him delivering some profound-sounding theory about inherited martial arts.
The one thing she had not expected was for him to admit so bluntly that his core competitiveness was… low price.
The clarity with which this person understood his own position made her find it somewhat amusing, yet also somewhat offended.
But Fischer still steadied herself. She swept Zhou Kai with an assessing glance and continued,
“I said, money isn’t the problem.”
“The problem is…”
“Whether you are qualified.”
She waved toward a spot not far away.
“Old Yang, come over. Test what he’s made of.”
As soon as she finished speaking, a burly man in a black suit walked over.
He was no shorter than Zhou Kai, but his build was a full size thicker, like a moving wall.
“Yes, miss.”
Old Yang answered in a muffled, booming voice, then came to a stop before Zhou Kai, exuding an aura that kept strangers away.
Zhou Kai’s gaze swept over his abnormally thick neck, and he had a rough idea.
This man was a veteran who had immersed himself in combat sports and striking arts.
Fischer blinked her pale blue eyes and introduced him with playful interest. “Old Yang. Former eighty-kilogram mixed martial arts professional fighter. He’s won a championship belt.”
“You have to at least be stronger than him, or about the same. If you’re too far off, why wouldn’t we just have Old Yang teach us directly?”
As her words fell, Old Yang puffed out his chest. Clearly, he was still proud of his glorious record in the past.
Once the topic shifted to fighting, this taciturn man seemed as though he had drunk a few taels of liquor; even his words became more numerous.
He rotated his shoulders and wrists, producing faint cracking sounds. “Forgive me for speaking bluntly, but you’re too thin. We’re not in the same weight class.”
Zhou Kai looked at him seriously and made no comment.
Senior Brother Chen Ping was thinner and shorter than him, yet that strength was like a prehistoric beast’s, utterly impossible to contend with.
Yes. Even though his strength had advanced after the Nightmare Long Night, when he now recalled Chen Ping’s unfathomable, ghostly strength and technique, he still felt a shudder before an uncrossable gulf.
Weight, height—these so-called classes were nothing but a joke before a true expert.
Zhou Kai nodded and said only one word:
“Come.”
Ma Yifan drew a deep breath and said with great consideration, “Let’s change places. Go to the backyard. There isn’t enough room here.”
…
“Can he do it? Maybe we should talk him out of it. It won’t look good if he really gets hurt.”
Yuan Duo was slightly plump, his round face filled with suspicion. No matter how he looked at it, he felt the lean Zhou Kai would be knocked down with one punch.
But Ma Yifan shook his head with certainty. “No, you don’t understand… he’s fierce as hell.”
“I at least have that much eye for these things. At most, Old Yang is a bit stronger than Wang Jinquan from our boxing gym. But Zhou Kai? He can toss Wang Jinquan around like a little chick!”
Feng Mingtai shrugged. “That exaggerated? Is ancient martial arts really that amazing?”
His eyes flickered, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“I heard my dad mention it before. He said ancient martial arts cultivation requires taking some kind of secret medicine that can raise your strength several times over out of nowhere… But later, it seemed to have caused deaths, and even left several people paralyzed.”
“Could it be that he’s taken that stuff?”
Now it was Ma Yifan’s turn to hem and haw.
Zhou Kai probably hadn’t even formally entered the gate of ancient martial arts, right?
As for secret medicine…
He had heard of that stuff too. One had to be an official disciple to be qualified to receive it monthly, and supposedly it had to be taken long-term before it showed results.
Zhou Kai most likely had never touched it.
“Maybe,” Ma Yifan said, bracing himself. In any case, he chose to believe first.
After reaching the backyard, Zhou Kai discovered that there was a huge swimming pool here.
The pool had long since been abandoned, and a thick layer of dead leaves and dust had accumulated at the bottom.
The place where the two would spar was on the neatly trimmed lawn beside the pool. It felt soft underfoot.
“We’ll stop at first contact. I’ll hold back.”
Old Yang gave an advance warning, not intending to make things difficult for Zhou Kai.
“There’s no protective gear, so I’ll be careful to avoid vital points.”
Zhou Kai replied, “No problem. I’ll be careful too.”
Hearing this, Old Yang’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He did not think Zhou Kai could touch him at all.
When it came to combat sports and fighting techniques, the gap between an expert and a novice was so great that outsiders could not even imagine it.
He even felt that as long as he wanted to, he could make this kid lose his balance and fall to the ground with just a few feints, let alone fight him fist to flesh.
Old Yang assumed his stance, his steps steady as he moved left and right, full of oppressive pressure.
Seeing Zhou Kai take up a defensive posture, using defense as offense,
Old Yang no longer wasted words. His feet suddenly exerted force, and his entire body charged forward like a cannonball. A heavy, powerful straight punch shot straight toward Zhou Kai’s face.
“By common sense, he should raise his arm to block. This punch will smash into his forearm.”
“I’ll put a bit more force into it, let him know the immensity of heaven and earth, and have him admit defeat early.”
“Take this!”
Old Yang roared, the wind of his fist howling.
But in the next instant, the confidence on his face froze, replaced by complete surprise.