Old Deng awakens: He starts by eliminating the yoga pants in the county town!

"Old Lin, raise your hands to protect your chin."

Atai leaned against the ropes and pointed to a young man in his early twenties wearing full protective gear.

"Xiao Fei, go up and train him."

The young man flipped onto the stage, bumped his gloves-clad fists together twice, and his eyes revealed the excitement of a newborn calf.

Atai turned his head and stared intently at Lin Dawei.

"Old Lin, I'm warning you."

"You absolutely cannot throw a powerful follow-up punch! Not even one!"

"Your brute strength could cripple even me. Xiao Fei is frail; one punch from you would send him to the ICU."

Atai tapped the wooden floor with a short stick.

"Tonight, you can only use your jab to disrupt them. Put all your energy into defense, dodging, and footwork."

"Did you understand?"

Lin Dawei nodded.

He put the mouthguard in his mouth and bit down hard.

On the arena.

Lin Dawei was soaked in sweat.

He wore thin practice boxing gloves, his arms tightly clasped together to protect his face and ribs on both sides.

Standing opposite him was Xiao Fei, a young student in his early twenties.

The young man was tall and had long legs. He moved with agile steps, and his eyes showed eagerness to try.

"Brother Lin, then I won't stand on ceremony."

The young trainee shouted.

He suddenly exerted force with his feet, and slid forward.

The left hand quickly reached out.

Hey, hey, hey.

Three rapid jabs landed precisely on Lin Dawei's cheek and forehead.

The flesh made a dull thud.

Lin Dawei's head was knocked back slightly, and a burning pain shot through his brow bone.

But he didn't even furrow his brow.

He forcibly suppressed the urge to retaliate.

He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on the young trainee's shoulder.

This was the first lesson Artest taught him.

Don't look at the opponent's fist; look at the contraction of their shoulder muscles to predict their attack trajectory.

Seeing that he indeed did not fight back, the young trainees became bolder.

He took another step forward.

This time it was a powerful right hook, aimed straight at Lin Dawei's soft abdomen with a whooshing sound.

Lin Dawei saw things clearly this time.

He reacted the instant the kid's right shoulder sank.

Lin Dawei lowered his center of gravity slightly, and using the force from his lower body, he quickly twisted his waist half an inch to the right.

call.

The heavy punch that was meant to hit his liver grazed past the edge of his damp vest.

It only hit a patch of air.

"it is good."

Atai slapped his thigh hard from the sidelines.

"That's the rhythm. Use your waist to absorb the force, and use your shoulders and back to withstand what you can't avoid."

Lin Dawei exhaled a breath of stale air, slowly moved his feet, and realigned himself in the standard holding position.

A habit of forty-six years cannot be changed overnight.

It lasted a full half hour.

Lin Dawei was like a human punching bag, bombarded by various combinations of punches in the ring.

Every time he was beaten, he forced himself to correct his instincts.

When the bronze bell tolls to signal the end.

The young trainee in charge of sparring was so exhausted that he collapsed on the ropes, panting heavily.

His arms were so sore that he couldn't even lift his boxing gloves.

In contrast, Lin Dawei...

Aside from a few bruises on his face, his straight back was like a mountain, and his breathing remained long and steady.

"Brother Lin, your body must be made of iron."

The young trainee was panting, his eyes filled with awe.

"My arm is almost dislocated from swinging it around, and you're acting like nothing happened."

Lin Dawei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his boxing gloves and nodded slightly to him.

"Good job, you played well."

He flipped over the ropes and jumped off the ring.

Atai tossed a clean towel into his arms.

"His comprehension is barely passable."

Artest commented.

"We'll continue tomorrow afternoon, and I'll add footwork training then."

"it is good."

Lin Dawei wiped the sweat from his face with a towel, put on his coat, and pushed open the glass door of the boxing gym before walking out.

It was a little after nine o'clock at night.

The open-air night market near the university town in the eastern suburbs is filled with smoke and fire.

The crowd was full of people.

Lin Dawei chose the most popular Northwest barbecue stall and sat down on the outermost plastic stool.

His stomach is like an unfillable black hole, desperately demanding more carbohydrates and fats.

"Boss, twenty skewers of lamb kidneys, thirty skewers of lamb, and two more orders of grilled lamb chops!"

"Put on plenty of oil and lots of chili!"

Lin Dawei shouted in a rough voice.

Not long after, the sizzling hot meat skewers were served.

He didn't care that it was hot; he grabbed a handful of lamb skewers and shoved them into his mouth.

Swallowing large mouthfuls of meat juice down my throat greatly soothed my raging hunger.

boom!

Just as Lin Dawei was enjoying his meal, a loud, jarring sound of a bottle shattering came from the next table.

Beer splashed onto Lin Dawei's trouser leg.

He frowned slightly, chewing on a lamb chop, and glanced over.

"Baka!"

"Are you blind?"

A man in a short-sleeved shirt, speaking with a slight accent, was swearing at the waiter who was serving the dishes.

The man was accompanied by four other people.

The other two men were dressed similarly, one of them was talking incoherently and acting arrogantly.

Two women were sitting next to me.

A woman wearing a short skirt.

The other one was wearing tight-fitting navy blue yoga pants and a low-cut chiffon blouse.

Lin Dawei recognized the woman.

Liu Li, from a Japanese-owned factory.

The man who was cursing was none other than Watanabe, the Japanese manager who had a close relationship with Liu Li.

The waiter serving the dishes cut his hand on a shard of broken glass and looked aggrieved.

"Boss, he clearly leaned back and bumped into my tray, which is why he spilled the wine..."

Snapped!

Before the waiter could finish speaking, Liu Li suddenly stood up.

She grabbed a handful of oily edamame skewers from the table and slammed them hard into the waiter's face.

"You dare talk back?"

Liu Li crossed her arms and pointed her finger at the young waiter's nose with an air of superiority.

"Do you know how much Mr. Watanabe's shirt costs?"

"We couldn't afford to lose money even if we sold your entire mess!"

"Get your boss out here right now, bow and apologize to Mr. Watanabe, and waive our bill. Otherwise, I'll call the city management and have you shut down tomorrow!"

She launched a fierce attack on the deliverymen and waiters at the bottom of society, but when she turned to look at Watanabe, she put on a fawning and ingratiating smile.

They even used tissues to wipe Watanabe's clothes.

Watanabe shoved Liu Li's hand away and, fueled by alcohol, slapped the waiter across the face.

"Get to work, work like crazy!"

The slap was extremely powerful; the young man screamed and staggered backward.

Coincidentally.

The waiter's back slammed solidly into Lin Dawei's folding table.

Whoosh!

The table shook violently, and the dozen or so skewers of large kidneys, along with half a roasted lamb chop, on the iron plate all overturned onto the cement floor.

Lin Dawei was still holding an iron skewer in his hand, with half a piece of mutton still in his mouth.

He stopped chewing.

His eyes instantly turned cold.

Hearing the commotion, the barbecue stall owner quickly ran out from behind the grill. Seeing the mess on the ground and his beaten-up employee, he hurriedly apologized.

Watanabe continued to press the issue relentlessly.

He raised his foot and kicked the young man in the stomach.

A large, strong hand suddenly appeared out of thin air and clamped onto Watanabe's ankle.