Chapter Seven: I See Your Talent Is Quite Good

Five minutes later, Li Qinghe closed out her match-three game and stood up, heading for the door.

Lu Yuan, who had been drilling Military Body Fist in the corner, spotted her and hurried over.

"Sister Qinghe, are you heading out?"

"What would happen to me? Brother Ming and I go way back." She smiled. "Besides, I'm still counting on little brother Lu Yuan to make it big and get me out of this dump someday."

"I owe you one, Sister Qinghe. Thank you."

She patted his shoulder with a laugh. "All right. Brother Ming's already agreed to let you train here — go find him when he comes out and ask for his guidance."

Lu Yuan looked at her and gave a firm nod. "Don't worry. I will."

A few minutes later, Franming stepped out.

He walked over to Lu Yuan and flashed a wide, toothy grin. "You're Lu Yuan, right? Qinghe tells me you want to train body techniques here — Military Body Fist and Military Body Killing Sword?"

"That's right, Brother Ming. Any problem with that?"

"Show me."

Lu Yuan took a breath and launched into Military Body Fist.

He'd had less than a day of practice. The forms were there, but his execution wasn't fully smooth yet — a slight stiffness still ran through the sequence. Raw strength compensated. Each punch set the air churning with enough force to feel across the room.

After a full set, his face was faintly flushed and his breathing slightly quicker than before.

Beside him, Franming had started out paying little attention. Gradually, his expression grew more serious, and by the time Lu Yuan came to a stop, there was open astonishment on the man's face.

*That fist wind... it absolutely doesn't belong to someone who just Awakened and has never entered the Land of Origin.*

He blinked and came back to himself, his expression a little odd. "...Qinghe said you Awakened the day before yesterday?"

"Yes, Brother Ming. Is something wrong?"

"When you first guided your Spiritual Energy — how long did it take to sense it, and how long to absorb it?"

Lu Yuan gave him a mildly puzzled look. That was the second time Franming had circled back to something like this.

*I can't say I sensed it without even entering a meditative state. That would be too absurd.*

*An instant... that technically counts as 'less than half a day,' right?*

He went with the safer answer. "Less than half a day to absorb it."

Franming's eyes went wide — again.

"...You really just Awakened?"

"Just Awakened."

A short silence. Then: "Come here. Hit me once."

Lu Yuan stared at him. "Brother Ming — you want me to hit you?"

"What, afraid of hurting me? Go on."

*Fine. I'll just hit him.*

He stepped into stance, shifted his weight forward, twisted at the waist, and drove a straight punch at Franming's chest. The air howled around his fist.

Franming's pupils shrank. He raised one enormous hand — practically the size of a palm-leaf fan — and caught the blow flat.

Lu Yuan's fist hit like it had struck a wall of cast iron. Not an inch of give. Franming hadn't so much as swayed.

*I'm still so weak.*

He turned to look at Franming and found genuine astonishment on the man's face.

*The force behind that punch — it is absolutely not what you'd expect from a freshly Awakened Gene Warrior who has never set foot in the Land of Origin.*

The exchange left no doubt in Lu Yuan's mind: the gap between himself and Franming was not small. Not even close.

*A decent man, though.*

*I need to keep a lower profile going forward. At least until I'm in a safer position.*

Li Qinghe, watching from the side, wore an amused smile.

Franming cleared his throat and let a small smile through. "Ahem... Lu Yuan, right? Since Qinghe's put you in my hands, and I can see your talent isn't bad — I'll go ahead and take you on as a disciple. Reluctantly. What do you say?"

*Ah. So I overdid it.*

At least my potential is limitless.

Lu Yuan gave an awkward laugh. "Brother Ming, you're incredibly strong — but I haven't started university yet. Let's revisit this after I get in."

Franming heard the brush-off plainly enough. His brow furrowed slightly.

Then Lu Yuan added, almost as an afterthought, "Ahem — I only just broke through to First-Rank Warrior level. But I'm going to get a lot stronger."

Franming gave him a strange look.

*Only Warrior rank?*

He started to say something, then remembered Li Qinghe's earlier warning and shut his mouth.

"Fine. We'll talk after university."

Li Qinghe stifled a yawn behind her hand. "I'll head back now — I'm exhausted." She smiled at Lu Yuan. "Good luck."

She said her goodbyes and walked out of Daming Martial Arts Gym. A faint, satisfied smile played on her face as she left. Lu Yuan caught a glimpse of it and quietly lowered his head.

"Come with me," said Franming.

He led Lu Yuan to one of the rings.

"To sharpen your body technique, solo drilling won't cut it. I'll set you up with sparring partners — you'll train against real people."

Up on the ring, a pair of big men were going at it hard, trading punches to the body and face and accumulating bruises with every exchange. Below the ring, a sizable crowd watched, voices rising with cheers and jeers.

"Old Cat! What the hell are you doing?! Straight punch! Right hook! Lay into him!"

"Wild Boar! Put some muscle into it — did you skip dinner?! Hit him! Take him down!"

"Stop!"

Franming's voice cut through everything. It carried instant authority here. The two fighters traded one final punch out of sheer stubbornness and stepped apart, chests heaving. They wiped blood from their faces, burned glares into each other, and turned toward Franming.

The spectators cleared a path as he walked through, eyeing the newcomers with curiosity — especially the unfamiliar face.

"New face? What's a pretty boy like that doing here instead of working the Jinhui Club?"

"Hey! Pretty boy! You're not gonna piss yourself when you step on that ring, are you?!"

Laughter and whistling swept the gym.

"Xiaohu!"

A stocky fighter nearby turned around. His square face wore a goofy, good-natured grin. He jogged over.

"Brother Ming!"

"You. Get on the ring and spar with this kid."

Xiaohu looked at Lu Yuan and couldn't keep the grimace off his face. "Him? He's not even as thick as my arm. One punch and I'd be begging him not to die on me."

Not only Old Cat and Wild Boar — every spectator in the place went quiet for a beat.

Lu Yuan raised an eyebrow, took a calm look around, and wordlessly rolled up his sleeves.

"This beanpole?!" someone called out. More laughter erupted.

Franming's expression went flat with impatience. "Less talking. You're doing it. Unless you'd rather I be your sparring partner."

Xiaohu snapped to immediately. "Yes! Right away!"

He scratched the back of his head with his usual grin. "If I put him down, though, I'm not paying the medical bills."

"I'm not asking you to," said Lu Yuan.

"Ha! Xiaohu as the sandbag?! Beautiful!"

A few spectators looked toward Franming hopefully. "Brother Ming, you getting up on the ring yourself?"

Brother Ming just folded his thick arms and laughed.

Lu Yuan: *...*

Xiaohu jerked his chin at Lu Yuan and announced to the crowd, "Brothers, hate to disappoint — Brother Ming's sitting this one out. It's me and the beanpole."

"Quick, quick! Let's go! Get started!"

Franming gave a satisfied nod. "Since it's settled, get on the ring."

To the crowd's roaring whistles, Lu Yuan and Xiaohu stepped up together.