Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Jiang Lan arrived at the martial arts school just as dawn broke.

The lingering force of the punch that pierced his flesh and bones at the alley entrance last night was still deep within him. He suppressed his emotions and tried his best to appear as normal as usual.

The assessment was over, and the training ground was empty except for a few early-arriving disciples standing in a corner.

He was the only one who had to retake the exam.

Coach Liu stood at the entrance of the main room, holding a teacup in his hand. His gaze was no longer as indifferent as before, but rather as if he had been waiting for him for a long time. He only glanced at him briefly before turning around and going into the room.

Jiang Lan followed her inside.

A charcoal brazier burned in the main room, making it warm and cozy. Instructor Liu sat in a grand chair, put down his teacup, and looked him up and down.

"Let's begin. The Mountain-Crushing Fist, from beginning to end, completely."

Jiang Lan clasped his hands in a fist salute, retreated to the open space in the center of the room, took a deep breath, and assumed a starting stance.

Tiger Warriors.

The fist burst forth from the waist, the force twisting along the waist and hips, traveling from the soles of the feet all the way to the fingertips.

Coach Liu narrowed his eyes slightly.

Tiger swings.

Jiang Lan did not retract her fist to dissipate the force; instead, she twisted her waist and hips, causing her fist to flip out from under her ribs and sweep across.

The most important thing to avoid in this move is to stop the momentum. In the past, he would always pause for half a step when he reached this point. That half-step pause was a fatal flaw in actual combat.

The lingering power of Tiger's Strike has not yet dissipated, and the new force of Tiger's Sway has already arisen. The punches continue, and so does the breath. The sweeping wind of the punches carries a deep and cold ruthlessness.

Hupu (a Chinese sports forum)

He threw out both fists simultaneously, his body moving in unison with each punch, like a tiger that had been lying in wait for a long time suddenly pouncing on its prey. When he landed, his feet gripped the ground firmly, his body without the slightest stagger, and his breathing remained steady as he retracted his fists.

After completing the three moves, Jiang Lan withdrew his fists and stood up, his chest rising and falling only slightly.

The fierce determination honed in last night's life-or-death struggle has now been fully ingrained in his boxing stance.

Coach Liu didn't speak. He stared at Jiang Lan for a long time, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

It's different; it's completely different from what the other disciples produced.

Those disciples' Mountain-Crushing Fist was copied from the boxing manual stroke by stroke, and every move was flawless, but it lacked soul.

Jiang Lan's Mountain-Crushing Fist carries a powerful force with every punch, unlike the training force used to hit a wooden stake... it's more like a deadly force in actual combat.

"Have you used this set of boxing techniques to fight people in private?" Coach Liu suddenly asked, his words like a thunderclap in my ear.

Jiang Lan's heart tightened suddenly, but she didn't show the slightest flaw on her face.

He clasped his hands and bowed, his tone respectful and steady: "This disciple has only sparred with Senior Brother Sun at the martial arts school, and has never fought with anyone outside."

Coach Liu stared at him, his gaze sweeping over his face like a knife. Jiang Lan kept his eyes down, standing ramrod straight and motionless.

After a few moments, Instructor Liu withdrew his gaze, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and softened his tone: "Your set of Mountain-Crushing Fist was better than any of the disciples' performances on the day of the assessment. The power flowed smoothly, the moves were fluid, and it already showed some signs of real combat."

He paused for a moment: "Talent is something bestowed by God; you can't force it. But for something as fundamental as opening acupoints, the most important thing isn't talent, but diligence. Talent determines how high you can go, but diligence determines whether you can cross the first threshold."

Jiang Lan clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Disciple understands."

"Your talent isn't top-tier, but you're willing to put in a lot of hard work." Coach Liu looked at him. "In that respect, you're far superior to those who have talent but refuse to practice."

Jiang Lan was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Compared to my cousin Jiang Hao, I am still far inferior."

Coach Liu paused, holding his teacup, and glanced at him.

"Jiang Hao is in the inner city. Steward Liu has already settled him in." His voice was calm. "He's laying low for now, waiting until the Black Tiger Gang matter is resolved. However, since he received a favor from the Liu family, he will inevitably have to join their ranks in the future."

Jiang Lan's heart sank.

Entering the Liu family's household meant signing a contract to become their servant. Jiang Hao had once told him that he didn't want to be anyone's dog, and didn't want to live under someone else's roof.

But now, he has no choice.

He clenched his hand hidden in his sleeve, and the obsession in his heart became clearer.

He absolutely could not allow himself and his mother to come to this point; to depend on others was to hand their lives over to them.

Only by clenching your fist can you truly protect those you want to protect.

"Is he...willing to do this?" Jiang Lan asked.

Coach Liu did not answer directly, but only said, "Sometimes, whether you want to or not is not up to you."

Silence fell over the room.

Instructor Liu put down his teacup and suddenly changed the subject: "You asked for leave yesterday, saying your mother was sick. How is she now?"

"It's all alright now, thank you for your concern, Master." Jiang Lan clasped his hands and bowed.

"It's good that you're alright." Instructor Liu nodded, his tone becoming more serious. "The murky waters of the Black Tiger Gang and the Canal Gang are not something a disciple your age can wade into."

Jiang Lan lowered his eyes: "Disciple understands."

Instructor Liu waved his hand: "Go back and practice your skills."

Jiang Lan left the main room and gently closed the door.

After leaving the main house, Jiang Lan stood in the connecting corridor for a while and let out a long sigh of relief.

The master could tell that his boxing skills couldn't be honed through sparring with fellow students, and that he had fought outside.

But the master didn't press for details. He only made a comment, which was both a warning and a way of leaving him room to maneuver, as well as a subtle form of protection.

He clenched his fists and walked towards the training ground.

In the afternoon, Jiang Lan practiced her boxing against wooden stakes in the training ground.

Sun Gengsan walked over carrying a water bag and squatted down next to him.

"Did you pass the makeup exam?"

"Passed." Jiang Lan took the water pouch and drank a sip.

"That's definitely going to pass." Sun Gengsan smiled. "Your Mountain-Crushing Fist is even more stable than mine."

Jiang Lan didn't reply, returned the water bag to him, and stood in front of the wooden stake again.

Sun Gengsan stood up, lowered his voice, and asked earnestly, "I heard the leader of the Grand Canal Gang wants to see you?"

"Um."

"The Canal Gang is not the same as the Black Tiger Gang." Sun Gengsan lowered his voice even further. "If the Black Tiger Gang is a dog that the Zhao family releases to bite people, then the Canal Gang is a knife held in the hands of the Liu family. If a dog bites someone, the owner pays compensation and that's it; but once a knife is drawn, it won't be sheathed until blood is drawn."

He paused, then added, "You can go, but don't go against him. Huo Yuanlong is a hundred times more ruthless than Ding Qi. If he likes you, you can walk all over the docks without anyone bothering you; if he doesn't like you, you probably won't even make it out of that ship."

Jiang Lan nodded: "I understand."

"Oh, right," Sun Gengsan suddenly remembered something, "a new disciple joined the academy this year, surnamed Shen, named Shen Qing. I heard that his aptitude is top-notch, even stronger than Jiang Hao's. Master values ​​him highly and is personally giving him extra lessons."

Jiang Lan's heart skipped a beat. Stronger than Jiang Hao?

He didn't ask any further questions, simply responding before turning back to continue punching the wooden stake. The wind howled with each punch, each blow more steady and heavier than ever before.

In the evening, Jiang Lan was packing her things to leave when Liu Tie came running over, panting.

"Jiang Lan!" He ran up to her, took out a small cloth bag from his pocket, and carefully stuffed it into Jiang Lan's hand. "This is the thirty coins I borrowed from you last time. Here it is."

Jiang Lan opened the cloth bag and glanced inside. There were thirty copper coins, neatly stacked in strings, with the edges worn shiny, clearly indicating that they had been saved up for a long time.

"Where did you get the money?" he asked.

Liu Tie scratched his head, a sheepish smile on his face: "I found a job, moving goods at the docks. The work isn't heavy, just tiring. I saved up for a month, and finally I've saved enough."

Jiang Lan looked at him and carefully put the cloth bag away: "Actually, there's no rush to return it. You have family at home..."

"It's alright now!" Liu Tie smiled, his eyes a little red. "My father is better and can get out of bed. Thank you so much, Jiang Lan. If it weren't for your money, my father wouldn't have made it through."

After he finished speaking, he waved his hand, turned around, and ran away.

Jiang Lan watched his figure disappear at the entrance of the martial arts school, stuffed the cloth bag into her arms, and turned to walk towards the dock.

To the east of the dock, a magnificent multi-story ship was moored on the river. It was the main hall ship used by the canal gang to entertain guests. It had two decks, carved windows, and two white lanterns hanging at the bow. When the wind blew, the character "漕" on the lanterns swayed slightly.

As Jiang Lan walked to the dock, a member of the Canal Gang with a short knife at his waist immediately approached him, sizing him up: "Jiang Lan?"

"Yes."

"Come with me. The boss is waiting for you upstairs."

Jiang Lan followed him onto the gangplank and onto the deck. The boat was very stable, and she could hardly feel the swaying of the river.

A dozen or so men from the canal gang stood on either side of the deck, each with a calm demeanor, their hands always on the hilts of their knives. Their gazes swept over him with scrutiny and vigilance before quickly shifting away.

The man led him to the door of a cabin on the second floor and knocked: "Boss, the man is here."

"Come in." A deep, hoarse voice came from inside, carrying the oppressive feeling of someone who had long held a superior position.

The door opened, and an oil lamp was lit in the cabin, filling the air with smoke. A chilling aura rushed in, making Jiang Lan's breath catch in her throat.

A man in his forties sat in a large armchair. He had a square face and thick, sharp eyebrows. He held a cup of hot tea in his hand. The moment he looked up, his gaze swept over him like a hawk locking onto its prey, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

Huo Yuanlong!

He didn't get up, his fingertips lightly tapping the rim of his glass, his voice low and tinged with amusement, each word piercing the deepest, most hidden part of Jiang Lan's heart:

"You're Jiang Lan?"

"The night Ding Qi died, the entire dock was in complete chaos, and coincidentally, you weren't at the martial arts school. Quite a coincidence."

Jiang Lan's hands, hanging by her sides, tensed instantly, and the pale gold panel in her mind suddenly lit up with a warning light.