Half-human, half-ghost, the number one divine fist

"Bah! You shameless bastards! I told you to get out of Jinrong Gambling House the other day, that was giving you a way out! You just wanted to stay and wait to die, didn't you?"

It was already quite dark, and the alley was deep and secluded, with the streetlights casting a faint glow at the alley entrance.

Lin Fusheng pressed himself against the brick wall, which gave him a clearer view of the interior.

Four or five burly men wearing variegated short jackets blocked the narrow passage.

They carried short wooden sticks as thick as their arms, weighing them in their palms, their rugged faces appearing particularly harsh in the shadows.

Three people were curled up on the ground; they were the young thugs who usually took turns bringing him food and applying medicine.

One of them had his cheek pinned down by a muddy boot, half his face pressed to the ground, and he was making muffled whimpers.

The burly man who was stepping on him spat, and thick phlegm mixed with saliva landed on the forehead of another person next to him.

The burly man increased the pressure with his foot, the sole grinding against the cheekbone of the man beneath him. "Today I'll cripple three of your legs and give you a way to live, but you don't appreciate it!"

The three people on the ground struggled, their voices filled with pain and fear.

"Stop, stop hitting us! We...we're just trying to make a living..."

"Freeloading? I'll teach you to eat with a stick from now on!"

A bald, burly man next to him grinned maliciously and swung a wooden stick, about to smash it down on one of the men's calves.

Tapping.

Lin Fusheng emerged from the shadows at the alley entrance.

The footsteps were not heavy, but they were particularly clear amidst the short shouts and sobs.

The burly men paused, then turned to look at each other.

Lin Fusheng stood at the boundary between light and darkness, his figure still appearing somewhat thin inside his large, old cotton robe.

His face remained expressionless; he simply stared inside, his voice carrying out in a flat tone:

"stop."

The alleyway fell silent for a moment.

The burly men were initially a little nervous, but they immediately relaxed after noticing Lin Fusheng's age and build.

The burly man who was stepping on his face seemed to have heard the funniest joke. He grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth: "Haha! Stop? You?"

The others also burst into laughter.

The bald man pointed a wooden stick at Lin Fusheng, laughing so hard he almost fell over: "Where the hell did this kid come from? Wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket, he dares to act like a big shot? Stop? Are you fucking crazy?"

The three thugs on the ground recognized Lin Fusheng. Instead of feeling that there was any hope of saving him, they became even more anxious.

The one whose face was being stepped on desperately tried to squeeze out a sound from under the boot.

"Lin, Lin, the leader! Hurry! Go get Menye! There are too many of them... You can't handle it!"

Another, his voice trembling with tears, cried out, "Go! Don't worry about us!"

The four or five burly men understood what he meant.

Lin, the foreman?

Jinrong Casino seems to have indeed changed to a young new manager.

Is this all the kind of trash I've got?

Lin Fusheng did not move; his gaze swept over the five burly men.

These four burly men walked unsteadily, and their grip on the sticks was just like that of street brawlers, lacking the solidity of stance training.

His breathing was heavy and disordered, and his eyes were fierce but lacked any focus.

They didn't even get close to the "stone skin" (a metaphor for the core of the gang); at most, they were just thugs who were stronger and more ruthless than ordinary people.

Although I haven't learned any boxing techniques, I've mastered the Iron Armor Stance, which has doubled my blood and energy, making my muscles, bones, and skin far stronger than ordinary people. That's more than enough to deal with them.

That's why he stepped forward.

Even when beating a dog, you have to consider its owner.

He knew that these thugs looked down on him, but that was another matter.

"No need to call Menye."

Lin Fusheng's voice was flat.

"Oh ho? You're quite the actor!"

The bald man stopped laughing, and twisted the fat on his face.

"Hey guys, do you know this guy's 'name'? He seems to be the new boss of Jinrong Casino, hahaha!"

"Huh? This little bean sprout?"

"Break one of his legs!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the group of people pounced on him.

The wooden stick whistled through the air as it swept towards Lin Fusheng's waist!

They won't hold back when they strike.

The others shouted and swung their sticks, blocking their escape routes to the left and right.

The three thugs on the ground felt a chill in their hearts and were almost in despair.

idiot!

Lin Fusheng is so damn stupid.

Why play a hero at this time?

You've only been practicing martial arts for half a month, and you've already gone crazy from standing in a stance!

They could almost see Lin Fusheng being beaten to the ground with sticks, his bones broken and tendons snapped.

Lin Fusheng did not back down in the face of those sticks.

He was still a little nervous, but the analysis of the enemy and our forces calmed him down considerably.

Just as the stick was about to hit him, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

Without moving his feet, his waist twisted slightly, like a bowstring that had been taut and then suddenly released.

That seemingly powerful blow to the waist actually swept away the cotton robe.

The bald man exerted too much force, causing his body to lean forward involuntarily.

At that very moment, Lin Fusheng came to life.

The movements were not fast, but exceptionally simple.

Instead of throwing a punch, he used the force of twisting his waist to lean forward with his shoulder, slamming into the bald man's wide-open chest.

"Bang!"

The dull thud felt more like hitting a solid sandbag than flesh.

The bald man's sinister smile froze instantly, his eyes bulged out, and he was sent flying backward as if he had been gored by a galloping calf, crashing into his accomplice behind him. The two of them rolled on the ground like gourds, the wooden stick slipping from their hands, leaving only muffled groans of pain.

The remaining three were stunned, clearly not expecting this skinny boy to have such strength.

But their ferocity had already been aroused, and two of them, one on the left and one on the right, began to smash sticks down on their heads and faces.

Lin Fusheng did not dodge this time.

He crossed his arms and lifted them upwards.

This is precisely the deformation of the double arms extending horizontally to bear pressure in the iron bridge's supporting pile frame.

"Slap! Slap!"

Two wooden sticks slammed into his forearms, making a sound like striking hard leather.

The two burly men felt a jolt in their hands, and the wooden stick trembled, making it difficult for them to hold on.

Lin Fusheng, who was hit, only felt his body sink slightly, and the blue bricks under his feet made a soft "crack" sound, with a few fine cracks appearing.

The expected sound of bones breaking did not occur.

Before the other party could react, Lin Fusheng swung his arms, which had been holding off the wooden sticks, outwards and struck the two men in the ribs with his palms, which were as hard as iron plates.

"Ugh!"

The two men were struck as if by a heavy blow, feeling a clear pain in their ribs. They staggered backward, clutching their ribs and bending over, unable to breathe for a moment.

The last burly man who had been stomping on the face finally released his foot, roared in shock and anger, and charged forward with his wooden stick, bringing it down on the man's head with the ferocity of a mad tiger.

This time, Lin Fusheng dodged the blow of the stick by turning to the side. At the moment when the opponent exhausted his strength and straightened his arm, he stepped forward and his five fingers of his right hand were like hooks. This is the embodiment of "five fingers like hooks" in stance training. He accurately grabbed the opponent's wrist holding the stick and suddenly exerted force to squeeze and twist!

"Snap!"

A sickening, tooth-grinding sound of bones dislocating rang out.

"Holy crap!"

The burly man let out a bloodcurdling scream, the wooden stick clattered to the ground, his wrist bent at an abnormal angle, and he curled up in pain.

In the blink of an eye, five fierce-looking, burly men lay sprawled on the ground, groaning and crying out in pain; none of them remained standing.

Only heavy breathing and suppressed wails remained in the alley.

The three thugs on the ground, who had been in despair, had now forgotten their pain. They stared wide-eyed at the thin figure still standing there, as if they were seeing this "Boss Lin" whom they had been mocking in private for half a month for the first time.

Lin Fusheng loosened his grip and shook his wrist.

My first real-world application of power was a bit rough, and my control over my strength wasn't precise enough.

But the result was alright.

If I had mastered the Six Harmonies Fist, I wouldn't need to go through all this trouble.

Four people, four punches are enough.

He glanced at the few thugs from Jin Yu Lou lying on the ground, his voice remaining calm:

"roll."

"Breaking your wrists is a lesson in itself."

He didn't go too far, as his own strength is not currently very high.

With the Golden Hall Casino eyeing them covetously from the outside and Hua Wendong harboring ill intentions from within, it would be unwise to act too ruthlessly at this time, lest they provoke a furious retaliation from the Golden Hall Casino.

The burly men from Jinyulou struggled to their feet, their wrists twisted, their ribs aching, and their chests tight. They supported each other, their eyes filled with fear as they looked at Lin Fusheng, all traces of their former ferocity gone.

They staggered and fled into the deeper darkness of the alley without looking back, their footsteps fading into the distance.

The three thugs on the ground helped each other up slowly.

His face was covered in dirt and blood, his clothes were torn, and his exposed skin was a bluish-purple.

They looked at Lin Fusheng, then at each other, their eyes filled with bewilderment and disbelief.

half a month.

It's only been half a month.

Shoulder strike, brace, the force of crushing a wrist...

He's mastered the Iron Armor Stance in just half a month?

Is this a monster?

The moment the thought crossed their minds, all three of them felt a sudden jolt of fear.

Thinking back on the past two weeks, the dawdling when delivering meals, the disdainful looks, the crickets chirping behind me...

Cold sweat mixed with the blood and grime on his face poured down in a flash.

"Go back, everyone."

Lin Fusheng glanced at them, then turned and walked towards the alley entrance.

His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

The three thugs stood frozen in place, watching his thin figure disappear into the dim light of the streetlamp at the alley entrance and gradually walk away.

"Lin Fusheng, no... Chief Lin, is not a stingy person."

"We've talked a lot of bad things about Chief Lin behind his back, and we've never given him a kind look. We never expected that he would be willing to save us."

"Foreman Lin has truly mastered the Iron Armor Stance."

Shock overwhelmed the panic.

There's also a more complex, almost absurd feeling.

In just half a month, Lin Fusheng had reached this level of skill.

They limped and helped each other along, slowly moving in another direction.

......

When Lin Fusheng returned home, the yard was dark and the lock was intact.

He pushed open the door and went in, then lit the oil lamp.

The dim light spread out, and the furnishings in the room remained the same, covered with a thin layer of dust.

Without delay, he went straight to his father's room and moved the old wardrobe against the wall.

There was a loose spot on the wall bricks behind him. He fumbled around, pried open the bricks, and took out a long bundle wrapped tightly in oilcloth.

Open the oilcloth, and inside are two booklets.

A book with yellowed paper and a cover bound with thick thread, titled "The Six Harmonies Boxing Manual," with neat but slightly old-fashioned handwriting.

The other book was a thick volume of miscellaneous notes. The cover was blank, but when you opened it, you found it filled with densely packed small regular script calligraphy, interspersed with sketches of the human body and annotations of the direction of force, the ink of which varied in age.

This is Lin Yuanshan's handwritten notes.

By the light of the oil lamp, Lin Fusheng quickly flipped through the general outline of the boxing manual and the first few pages of the notes.

Then, he blew out the light and, in the dark courtyard, slowly began to practice the starting stance of Liuhequan, relying on his memory and the impression he had just seen.

Unskilled and stiff.

Many of the points where I exerted force and made transitions were completely wrong, and my breathing couldn't keep up with my movements.

But he managed to deliver a full set of punches, albeit with some stumbles and falls, from start to finish.

It's much better now than before; he couldn't even take down one before.

When he finished his stance, Lin Fusheng was slightly out of breath.

The images in my mind fell silent.

No new entries appeared.

There is no indication of "Six Harmonies Fist (Beginner: 0/100)" nor any feedback such as "Health, Attack, etc. +0%".

"really."

"The visualization diagram only records the cultivation methods that are 'approved by it.' The Iron Armor Stance was personally demonstrated by Uncle Rong in its entirety before my eyes, which is why it was included and forged into a visualization diagram. As for the Six Harmonies Fist, I only followed the manual and the text. Even if I practiced it a hundred times, without the true meaning and without the 'standard' approved by the visualization diagram, it would not recognize it."

"You have to see someone perform the entire routine before you can judge."

"However, it's probably not something you can fight just anyone. The deeper and stronger the opponent's boxing skills and martial arts are, the more helpful this visualization diagram will be to me."

Lin Fusheng thought to himself.

......

The next day, Lin Fusheng went to Jinrong Casino as usual.

Before even crossing the narrow corridor leading from the front hall to the backyard, a few hushed whispers escaped from the half-open door of the storage room next door.

"They come every day, but it's all useless. They just squat down at the back like they're some kind of Buddha."

"Hua got another cut on his arm yesterday. Those bastards from Jin Yulou are getting more and more reckless..."

"They take the profits but do nothing; they're really shameless."

"Practice for half a month, and you think you can achieve anything? Just putting on a show."

The voice was not loud, but carried a deliberate disdain and a sour resentment.

Every word and phrase is like a small knife, specifically designed to drill into one's eardrum.

Lin Fusheng didn't stop walking, as if he hadn't heard, and went straight into the backyard through the cotton curtain.

Just as he went inside, two of the three thugs he had saved the day before happened to come from the other side and overheard the last few sentences.

One of them, whose face was bruised, couldn't help but crane his neck and whisper towards the storage room.

"You guys don't know anything! Chief Lin, he..."

Before he could finish speaking, the door was pushed open, and Men Ye walked out with a toothpick in his mouth.

He heard about yesterday's events from another henchman.

Hehe, it's nothing special.

Monno glanced at them sideways and sneered.

"What about him?"

"Do you really think you're invincible just because you ran into a few weaklings yesterday? Jin Yulou's real experts haven't even made a move yet."

"Practicing martial arts takes time and effort; it's not a magic trick."

The two thugs who wanted to argue were silenced and their faces turned red.

Monno is, after all, one of our own.

He was Lin Yuanshan's former subordinate.

It's absolutely outrageous to say something like that now.

Although... they were like this before.

One of them wanted to say something more, but seeing the mocking looks from Monno and the others, he ultimately kept quiet.

Forget it, let the bullets fly for a while longer.

Rong Chongming had already arrived in the backyard.

Without wasting words, Lin Fusheng stood on the stakes in front of him, assuming the stance of a bridge carrying a mountain.

The breath was deep and steady, the frame was stable, and although the signs of blood and qi flow under the skin were faint, they had already taken shape.

Rong Chongming looked on with his hands behind his back, a clear look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Have you gotten the hang of it?"

Rong Chongming asked, somewhat surprised.