Chapter 115: The Strongest Man, Real or Fake?
The exact time Wu Jian would come to challenge the dojo was still unknown. The only thing King and the others could be sure of was that Wu Jian was almost certainly coming for Bang.
In that case, things were simple. All they had to do was wait peacefully at the dojo, conserving their energy for the coming battle, and Wu Jian would naturally find his way to their door.
And so, for the next two days, Bang had King play a number of ancient competitive combat games passed down in the dojo. For example, there was "Let's Find the Differences," a particularly brutal game where you had to find the differences between a pile of pictures of beautiful twin girls. It was a special test and training for a participant's powers of observation.
When asked about the significance of such a game, Bang stated with perfect justification that its purpose was to train everyone's observation skills for finding flaws, thereby increasing their combat effectiveness.
King thought about it and found it quite reasonable.
And so, the battle began.
King and Bang fought three hundred rounds to determine a winner. The result was that Bang fought and lost, lost and fought again, successfully forging the image of an unyielding warrior.
Bang was completely stunned by his losses, his mind a chaotic mess, to the point he nearly questioned his very existence. Seeing as he had almost never beaten King at a game, he decided to declare a truce for a day. They would each rest and recuperate, building up their energy and sharpening their spirits.
Whenever the games were brought up over the past two days, he would sigh, "That fellow King's observation skills are too formidable. He can spot the difference of a single strand of hair between twin beauties at a glance. I, this old man, admit defeat wholeheartedly!"
Of course, this was what he said publicly. In private, he had already cursed King countless times. "Damn you, King! Bullying this old man for my failing eyesight! You don't have a shred of the fine virtue of respecting the old and cherishing the young."
King had no objections to resting. However, though it was called a rest day, it wasn't as if everyone just buried their heads under their covers and slept. Early in the morning, King was "moved" by Charanko's diligence. After greeting Bang and finishing breakfast, he threw himself into the practice of Tai Chi.
Just as he was getting into the zone, Bang ambled from the front courtyard to the back and stood quietly to the side, watching King practice Tai Chi. His eyes held a hint of delight. King was actually secretly... practicing martial arts?
He watched for a while, his brow slightly furrowed, staring in confusion at the moves King was making. What kind of nonsensical boxing was this? Utterly incomprehensible! Hmm, I have a responsibility and an obligation to guide this martial arts "rookie" onto the right path.
After a long while, he finally opened his mouth to ask, "King, which school do you follow? And which style of boxing are you practicing now?" The boxing King performed was very strange. With his years of experience, he couldn't identify even a single clue as to its origin.
King was slightly stunned. He looked at Bang, who had appeared behind him at some unknown point, and shook his head. "I have no school or style. As for this set of boxing... hmm, I happened to secretly learn it by chance. Then I added my own blind explorations and created it myself. The style is called Tai Chi."
He really did learn his Tai Chi by eavesdropping. He remembered how the "Little Apple" song would blast on time from the old men downstairs early in the morning, waking him up. Whenever that happened, he would carry a bucket of water to the window, debating whether or not to pour it on the Tai Chi-practicing grandpas. After seeing it time and time again, he ended up memorizing those Tai Chi forms.
Of course, he had memorized them, but when he performed them himself, his posture was a mess, definitely not the standard Tai Chi moves. Hmm, you could barely call it creating his own branch of Tai Chi.
Bang had a sudden realization. "Secretly learned? Self-created? Hehe, King, you've never studied martial arts before, have you?" This slow, plodding boxing style was clearly amateurish stuff, a fake form. It might be useful for a performance, but using it in a fight would be suicidal. You'd be guaranteed to get beaten black and blue.
"Yeah, I haven't."
"No wonder, no wonder. This boxing set of yours basically doesn't conform to the principles of martial arts. It's messy and disorganized, slow and powerless. It's essentially a worthless style. It might be fine for strengthening the body and staying healthy, but in a fight... it would be tragic. Although the initial purpose of martial arts was to strengthen the body, as it has developed to the present day, it has become a killing art. It's a combination of physical factors like strength and speed—sometimes as fast as lightning, sometimes as powerful as a thousand-pound weight, sometimes tricky and ruthless... But your boxing... to be honest, I can't see any strengths in it at all."
Bang had denigrated King's Tai Chi to being utterly worthless.
King was greatly displeased. How could a divine technique from the great nation of Hua become worthless scrap metal in this old man's mouth?
He wanted to refute Bang's assessment, but just as he opened his mouth, he remembered that the other party was a martial arts grandmaster, while he was a complete novice. He definitely wouldn't be a match for Bang in an argument.
Thinking of this, he waved his hand dejectedly. "It's not that Tai Chi isn't impressive, it's that I didn't learn the whole thing. Over the years, I've forgotten most of it."
He simply took the blame himself to avoid tarnishing the name of Tai Chi.
"King, if you really want to learn martial arts..." Bang said with a grin, "I can teach you."
"Teach me?" King was surprised. "Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist?"
Bang nodded solemnly. "That's right. My signature martial art—Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist. What do you say? Are you interested?"
"Hmm?"
King pondered for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Not interested." You have to lay a foundation before you can construct a building; similarly, you have to train your body before you can practice martial arts. Although he admired and very much wanted to learn a martial art for self-defense, the prerequisite for all of that was a strong physique. Otherwise, even the most powerful martial art would be nothing but amateurish stuff in his hands.
And training one's body... is very hard!
I'd better just watch TV and play games to pass the days.
So he thought.
"Oh, is that so!"
Bang nodded in disappointment. Ugh, still haven't managed to lure this guy into bed... ah, no, I mean, get him on board!
"King, since you're not interested in learning Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist, I won't force you. However, practicing boxing isn't just about simply studying moves. It must be paired with other training methods, advancing on all fronts, to truly learn a martial art well. Practicing boxing on your own like this, I'm afraid you'll have little success. Why don't you join us for the time being? You can work with Charanko to build a solid foundation in martial arts?"
He decided to try a roundabout strategy. If you won't learn Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist when I offer to teach you directly, then I'll have you integrate into the basic martial arts lifestyle. Over time, it will naturally influence you, making you unknowingly invest yourself in studying the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
He nodded in satisfaction at his own plan.
"Paired with training?"
King mulled it over. He was idle anyway, so he might as well practice boxing in the front yard with Charanko to pass the time. It would also be a good opportunity to see the basic training for the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
Thus, Bang's treacherous plan succeeded. He took King and Charanko... for a run.
The three of them jogged slowly up and down the dojo steps. On the way down, King could barely manage to seem relaxed, but on the way back up, he was once again tired as a dog. The moment he reached the dojo, he lay down and refused to move another inch.
Training together under the same regimen, Charanko, who was only slightly out of breath after one lap, looked at King collapsed on the ground in great astonishment. "Teacher, what kind of training method is this? How is he this tired after just one lap?"
Bang's brow was tightly knitted. He didn't answer Charanko's question.
He remembered that this fellow King had been similarly exhausted when he came up the mountain before, without a hint of a powerful person's demeanor. At the time, he thought it was King's unique training method. But now, observing him carefully, he couldn't find any special training techniques on King. It was just an ordinary run. The result was that King still had to rest multiple times on his way up the mountain and was even exhausted to the point of collapse.
Why was this? With King's strength, could he not even climb a cliff?
A seed of doubt was planted in his heart.
With this doubt, he would naturally continue to observe. As a result, he discovered that many of King's usual behaviors were suspicious. His whole body was full of openings when he walked, his stance was unstable... Adding to that his useless boxing and so on, King didn't have a single shred of a strong person's aura about him.
Could it be that King was just a fake?
A startling thought popped into his head.
Before, his preconceptions had led him to subjectively believe that King was strong, so he had ignored all these flaws. Now, thinking about it carefully, was King really as powerful as others said?
His brow furrowed deeply as he stared at the panting King. If King only had an empty reputation, then how could one explain the superhuman observation skills he had displayed during their games these past two days?
His heart was in turmoil. A trace of confusion appeared in his usually sharp eyes.
Is the Strongest Man real or fake?
(end of chapter)