America: A Prodigy of Stereotypes

Li Qun took off his shirt, leaving only a white undershirt, and handed his glasses to his father for safekeeping.

Is it okay not to wear glasses?

Wenwu watched as Liqun squinted to adjust to the view after taking off his glasses, and realized that Liqun's eyesight wasn't very good.

"It's alright," Li Qun said.

Xu Shangqi also took off his clothes; he was wearing a black vest.

"Let's hit it with a stick."

Wenwu picked up the two red lacquered sticks that Liqun had been using for practicing martial arts from the corner and handed them to Liqun and Shangqi respectively.

"Do I need to call 'start'?" Wenwu asked again.

“It’s already started,” the old man said.

Li Qun carried the staff behind his back, raised his aura, and locked his energy onto Shang Qi.

After taking off his glasses, Li Qun seemed like a completely different person to Shang Qi, his demeanor changed drastically, making Shang Qi subconsciously nervous.

Facing Li Qun, Shang Qi felt as if he were facing his master, Li Qinglin.

Shang Qi took the initiative and swung his staff at Li Qun.

Li Qun used his stick to block, deflecting Shang Qi's stick and accidentally striking Shang Qi's shoulder in the process.

Shang Qi attacked again with his stick, but Li Qun adopted a conservative defensive stance, blocking Shang Qi's stick attacks one by one.

Wenwu watched from the side, expressionless.

He saw his father's younger self in Li Qun, a conservative one who mostly played defensively when fighting others.

The old man smiled and looked at Wenwu.

He could tell that Shang-Chi had started practicing martial arts at a very young age, but his mindset was flawed; Shang-Chi's inner turmoil suppressed the full potential of his abilities. This was likely largely due to his father's overly strict nature.

Liqun has a great mindset; it's like clouds and mist, moving with the wind.

Shang Qi became increasingly ferocious as he hit, his expression turning ferocious, and the force of his blows on the stick made Li Qun's hands ache.

However, Shang Qi's stick techniques became stale, and Li Qun discovered his weakness and poked him several times with his stick.

Li Qun also increased its strength, and soon Shang Qi, who had been attacking fiercely, also adopted a defensive posture, frantically parrying Li Qun's attacks.

Shang-Chi is one year younger than Li-Chun, but even among peers, Shang-Chi's strength, honed through years of martial arts training, cannot match Li-Chun's at full strength.

Shangqi was repeatedly defeated by Liqun.

"Stop using that stick!" Wenwu shouted from the side.

Upon hearing his father's order, Shang Qi threw down the long stick in his hand and used his more familiar fist techniques to strike Li Qun.

As soon as Shang Qi threw a punch, Li Qun sensed something unusual.

The wind from the punch brushed against his face. Li Qun used the long staff in his hand to block Shang Qi's fist, and the staff made a crisp sound as it broke.

Li Qun quickly threw away the broken stick and began to fight Shang Qi with his bare hands.

After abandoning the stick, Shang-Chi entered his comfort zone, but the situation did not become one-sided, and Li-Qun remained calm and composed.

Li Qun's hand gesture unconsciously resembled holding a cup, and the old man's drunken boxing moves flowed through Li Qun's mind.

The game was a mix of deception and reality, leaving Shang-Chi bewildered and at a loss.

Shang-Chi's training from a young age was a rigorous, ascetic-like practice, involving hard work, such as breaking bricks and tiles with his hands, carrying sticks and beating wooden stakes with his body, and sparring with his father's men in a direct, combative style.

Shang Qi couldn't understand Li Qun's drunken boxing moves, which were so unsteady that he could barely stand. He subconsciously glanced at Wen Wu.

Li Qun's shoulder slammed into Shang Qi's chest, sending Shang Qi flying.

"We admit defeat," Wenwu said to his father.

"It's not over yet, why are you admitting defeat?" The old man smiled as he looked at Wenwu.

"He can't do it."

“Even if he beats your disciple, he still can’t lift that thing,” Wenwu said sternly.

"Just because he glanced at you?"

“You’re not suited to take care of children, so what about his mother?” the father asked.

“His mother died in front of him. He watched his mother being killed,” Wenwu told his father.

"...You didn't invite me to your wedding," Dad said.

The old man understood why Wenwu had picked up the ring again after putting it down.

"Dad, is it ready now?"

Li Qun and Shang Qi stood there, Shang Qi staring at Li Qun, still wanting to fight him.

The old man shook his head at Liqun, indicating that he would not fight anymore.

Li Qun glanced at Shang Qi. Although he couldn't see Shang Qi's expression clearly, he could sense the resentment in Shang Qi's heart.

Li Qun walked up to his father, took his glasses and put them on, then put on his coat.

"Uncle Xu, shall we have dinner together tonight?" Li Qun asked Wen Wu.

“Kid, you’re only the second person in all these years to dare to invite me to stay for dinner.” Wenwu laughed, recalling something.

"Who was the first one?" Li Qun asked curiously.

"It's your master."

Liqun looked at his father.

How are your grades in Chapter 57?

Old Man and Wenwu strolled slowly toward the Yellow Crane Tower Chinese Restaurant, with Shangqi obediently following behind his father.

Li Qun went to the Chinese restaurant early to find his uncle and told him that his father was going to entertain his old friends who had brought their children to visit him that night.

Wenwu walked into the Yellow Crane Tower Chinese Restaurant and looked around. The restaurant's decor was very festive, like during the Chinese New Year, with red as the main color. There were no private rooms, but there were screens separating the rooms. There was a TV on the wall, as if wall-mounted TVs were a standard feature in every Chinese restaurant.

Liqun pulled out seats for his father and Wenwu, handed them the shrink-wrapped menus, and quickly served tea and water.

The menu provided by Liqun is a secret menu, only given to fellow villagers who come to the restaurant to eat.

If other guests of different skin colors come to eat, as long as they can speak Chinese, my uncle will also consider letting them order from the secret menu.

"Is this your business?" Wenwu asked Liqun, holding up the menu.

"Hey, why ask so many questions?" The old man smiled at Wenwu.

"Are you afraid I'll threaten your apprentice's family? I hate that kind of behavior the most." Wenwu smiled at his father.

"Not now, but who knows in the future," Dad said.

Wenwu turned his face away, somewhat annoyed.

"Would you like something to drink?" Li Qun asked.

"Do you have Moutai?" Wenwu asked.

"We don't have Moutai," Liqun replied.

"Never mind then, bring me the most expensive bottle of wine."

Li Qun turned around and went to the wine cabinet to get some wine.

"It's my treat tonight," the old man said to Wenwu.

"Hehe." Wenwu raised his eyebrows, a hint of provocation in his voice.

Fifteen-year-old Shang Qi sat stiffly in his chair, staring blankly at the bowls and chopsticks on the table.

"Shangqi, what would you like to eat?" The old man handed the menu to Shangqi.

“He can eat anything, he’s not picky about food,” Wenwu said casually.

"Don't look at your dad, look at me. It's your old man asking what you'd like to eat," the old man said kindly to Shang Qi.

"I want to eat this, dry-fried shredded potatoes..."

Shang-Chi pointed to the picture on the menu, and his father chuckled, encouraging him to order a few more dishes.

"And this, radish and pork rib soup," Shang Qi said timidly.

"it is good."

"Do you like stir-fried pork with chili peppers?" Dad asked.

"I like it." Shang Qi nodded.

"Braised beef brisket, I'll order that. Eating more beef will help you grow tall and strong."

"How many dishes?" Wenwu asked. "There are four of us, so don't order too many."

“This half-grown brat is going to bankrupt his father. Liqun can eat a lot; if we can’t finish it all, Liqun will foot the bill,” the old man said.

Wenwu ordered two dishes, and his father accompanied Shangqi to order six home-style dishes. The four of them ate eight dishes, and his father felt that eight dishes were about right.

Liqun handed the menu to his aunt, and his uncle enthusiastically started working in the kitchen, serving all eight dishes within thirty minutes.

Wenwu looked at the eight dishes on the table, picked up a piece of pork rib with his chopsticks and ate it first.

The old man didn't stand on ceremony with Wenwu either. He started picking up food at the same time as Wenwu picked up his chopsticks. The two younger brothers, Liqun and Shangqi, waited for their elders to take their first bite before picking up their own chopsticks.

"How are Shangqi's grades at school?" Dad asked.

“He didn’t go to school, so I arranged for a tutor to teach him at home.”

"Not going to school? How will he live in today's society?" The old man frowned.

“He will follow in my footsteps; going to school is the only way out for ordinary families,” Wenwu replied calmly.

"Liqun is in school, right? How are your grades?" Wenwu looked at Liqun.

“My grades at school were pretty good; I got straight A’s,” Li Qun replied.

What university do you plan to attend in the future?

"It would be best to get into the best school; Ivy League schools are my goal," Li Qun replied.