abnabooks Chapter 81: The Strong Cannot Last Long; Seeking the Master of the "Mountain of Flesh"
Chapter 81: The Strong Cannot Last Long; Seeking the Master of the "Mountain of Flesh"
Chapter 82: The Strong Cannot Last Long; Seeking the Master of the "Mountain of Flesh"
On the day of the Awakening of Insects, the weather was not cooperating. There was no thunder, but the sound of flesh colliding in the backyard of the Lu residence was even deeper than muffled thunder, making one's teeth ache.
"Bang--!"
A muffled thud followed by the sound of a heavy object crashing to the ground, making even the blue bricks beneath their feet seem to tremble.
In the training ground, Shunzi was like a sack thrown by a catapult, flying three meters sideways before his back slammed hard on the ground.
The fall was quite solid. Shunzi opened his mouth wide to shout, but he couldn't catch his breath. His face turned a liverish color, and he couldn't get the breath out for a long time.
Opposite him, Lu Feng held the unsharpened, thick-backed single-edged sword in his hand, still in the stance after his slash.
The wolf cub was shirtless, drenched in sweat, its ribs heaving violently, and its eyes gleaming with an uncontrollable ferocity, making it look like a wild beast that had just bitten off the throat of its prey.
But the next second, when he saw his senior brother curled up like a shrimp on the ground, the fierce light in his eyes shattered instantly, turning into terror.
"Senior Brother."
Lu Feng threw down his knife and, in a panic, lunged forward.
"stop!"
Under the eaves, Lu Cheng sat in a grand chair, slamming the purple clay teapot heavily onto the table with a loud "clang," splashing tea all over the table.
"Master, bring the medicinal wine."
Lu Cheng stood up, took a few steps to Shunzi, squatted down, and used two fingers to stroke and press along the large tendon on Shunzi's lower back.
"hiss!!"
Shunzi gasped in pain, tears welling up in her eyes, but with that pain, she finally exhaled the breath she had been holding in.
"The bones are fine, but I pulled a muscle and injured my fascia."
Lu Cheng's technique was extremely fast; with a "snap," he repositioned the dislocated soft tissue.
He then stood up and coldly swept his gaze over his disciples.
These kids are now as strong as iron towers.
They eat tiger bones, practice Xingyi, and stand in the San Ti stance.
That's "hard skill" that comes from spending money and risking one's life.
They're capable of murder.
But acting? Especially acting in a play like "Yandang Mountain," which requires somersaults on a table, rolling on the ground, and being thrown around in the air, is something they're still very inexperienced in.
"That's what you call stubbornness."
Lu Cheng looked at Lu Feng, his tone stern, yet also revealing a hint of helplessness.
"Lu Feng, that knife of yours carries the force of a thousand pounds when you swing it. But once that force is gone, can you take it back?"
"Shunzi, when you fell, you hit the ground straight down. Are you a rock? Didn't you know how to absorb the impact? Didn't you know how to tuck yourself in? If this had been a three-zhang-high stage, you'd be a cripple by now!"
Lu Feng lowered his head, looking at his hands, which were covered in calluses and still trembling slightly.
He felt wronged and confused.
"Grandpa—you taught us to be ruthless, tough, and to thrust forward like a spear. But—how do we train this soft approach?"
Lu Feng gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse: "When I exert myself, all the muscles in my body tense up, and I can't relax at all."
I wanted to take it back, but it wouldn't listen to me.
Lu Cheng fell silent.
This is the crux of the problem.
Rigidity cannot last, nor can gentleness be maintained.
He himself possessed the "Bone Shrinking Skill" and "Ghost Shadow Steps" bestowed by the system, giving him a commanding presence and naturally enabling him to overcome strength with gentleness.
But these kids are like children who crawled out of the mud; they only know how to fight head-on.
The Qingyun Class now is like a steel knife that's been over-tempered. Too hard, and too brittle.
If it encounters a hard object or bends even slightly, it will chip or even break.
"We need to find someone who understands 'soft' techniques."
Lu Cheng turned around and looked at Zhou Daikui, who was sitting next to him with a worried expression, smoking a pipe.
"Master, you're an old hand at this. There are hidden masters in Beijing. Are there any experts who specialize in wrestling, bruise fighting, or have 'cotton-like strength'?"
"I don't want the kind of acrobatic stunts you see on the overpass; I want someone with real internal martial arts skills, someone who knows how to neutralize force."
Zhou Daikui took two puffs of his cigarette, his brows furrowing into a deep frown as he pondered for a while amidst the swirling smoke.
Suddenly, a complex light flashed in his cloudy old eyes. It was as if he had remembered something taboo, or as if he was hesitating whether or not to speak.
"There is one—but this person is a freak."
"Who?"
Zhou Daikui tapped his pipe on the sole of his shoe, lowering his voice as if afraid the wind would hear.
He was nicknamed "Tong the Meat Mountain," but his real name was Tong Sanjin (meaning "Three Jin").
"This man used to be the top wrestler in the Imperial Wrestling Battalion. He was a top-tier expert who performed wrestling for the Emperor and was responsible for subduing mad horses and lunatics before the Emperor."
"I heard he's built up a body of muscle, but it's not muscle, it's like steel needles wrapped in cotton. He weighs 300 pounds and can walk on the edge of a large vat with a Bagua step, without the water even sloshing around."
"After the fall of the Qing Dynasty, he neither went to work for a security escort agency nor opened a martial arts school."
"Where did he go?" Lu Cheng asked, intrigued.
Zhou Daikui looked both amused and exasperated, and pointed in the direction of Hufang Bridge.
"He—he was holed up in the 'Qinghua Pool' bathhouse, scrubbing people's backs."
"Scrubbing yourself in the bath?"
"Yes, a scrub. But this old man has a temper as foul as a rock in a latrine. He rarely does anything, he just sits there soaking in the bath like a Buddha. He'll only scrub someone if he likes them or if they can afford good wine."
"But his skill in 'relaxing bones' is truly divine. It is said that people who have been rubbed by him have all the joints in their bones opened up, and feel so light that they can fly."
"but----"
Zhou Daikui paused for a moment, then said, "This guy is arrogant and not easily persuaded. He's only doing this to get a free drink."
After listening, Lu Cheng's lips curled into a meaningful smile.
傲？
Only capable people are arrogant. Incompetent people are just pretending to be humble.
Every human being has weaknesses. If someone is truly a Buddha, then it is worthwhile to burn incense at their temple.
"Prepare the car."
Lu Cheng dusted off non-existent dust from his long robe, his eyes clear and bright.
"Shunzi, go to the storeroom and bring up the two jars of twenty-year-old Shaoxing wine that Third Master Li gave us the other day."
"Lu Feng, go to Tianfuhao outside Qianmen and buy ten catties of the best braised pork hock, the kind with a good balance of fat and lean meat, stewed until it's incredibly tender and oozing with oil."
"Buy two more roast chickens and four packs of lotus leaf buns."
Upon hearing there was food, Lu Feng's eyes lit up instantly, and he even forgot the grievance of being scolded earlier: "Sir, where are we going for a picnic?"
Lu Cheng glanced at the two clueless young men, then unfolded his folding fan with a "snap".
"No picnic."
"I'll take you—to take a bath!"
Hufang Bridge, Qinghua Pool.
This is the most famous bathhouse in the southern part of the city, and also a den of iniquity where all sorts of people from all walks of life gather.
A blue cloth banner hung at the entrance, its surface slightly whitened by the constant steam rising from it.
As soon as you enter, a wave of heat washes over you like a thick blanket.
The flavor was very complex.
It has the aroma of sulfurous pancreas, the spiciness of old tobacco leaves, the refreshing scent of jasmine tea, and most of all, the pungent smell of human flesh emanating from hundreds or thousands of men.
But the smell wasn't foul; instead, it had a comforting, tingling quality that made you feel completely relaxed.
"Hey, gentlemen, please come in!"
-
The waiter was a shrewd fellow, quick-witted and perceptive.
At a glance, one could see Lu Cheng's attire: a moon-white long robe, a walnut spinning in his hand, and two strong followers behind him carrying wine jars and food boxes.
This place is so grand; they must be rich.
"That's a seat on the high platform, reserved for you."
Lu Cheng waved his hand and casually flicked a silver dollar at the other end.
"I will not sit on a high platform."
"Looking for someone."
"Who should I look for?"
The young waiter caught the silver dollar, flicked it with his fingernail, made a sound, and grinned from ear to ear.
"Tong Sanjin, Master Tong."
Upon hearing the name, the young waiter's smile froze slightly, then he revealed an expression of "I knew it."
"Well, another one coming to talk to Master Tong." He muttered to himself.
Although this Fatty Tong is an expert at scrubbing people in the bathhouse, he has a strange temper and has driven away several groups of people in the past few months.
"Master Tong is soaking in the hot springs inside. But—sir, if I may be so bold, Master Tong isn't in a good mood today. Apparently, his pet iron dog died, and he's throwing a tantrum."
"It's alright."
Lu Cheng smiled and began to undress.
He took off his clothes.
The men, young and old, who had been chatting away in the locker room, all fell silent.
Lu Cheng's figure is so beautiful.
He wasn't the kind of big, muscular bodybuilder, nor did he look like a butcher with a lot of fat.
That's "strip meat".
Each muscle looked like it was made of twisted steel wire, clinging tightly to the bone, with lines as smooth as flowing water.
Her skin was as white as jade, a result of internal martial arts training that had penetrated to the bone marrow, nourishing her with qi and blood – a kind of "jade skin."
Especially his back, with two large veins bulging, as if two hidden dragons were moving under his skin with his movements.
"Wow—that physique, he's got some training."
"They look frail, but they're got real strength inside."
Lu Cheng ignored the stares of those around him, changed into wooden shoes, and folded his long robe.
Lu Feng and Shunzi also stripped naked, revealing their muscular bodies, which had been honed by the medicinal soup, making them look like two guardian deities.
The three men, carrying wine and meat, entered the misty bath area.
We walked across the steaming pool and past the group of idle men rubbing each other's backs.
In the far corner, there is a small, separate hot spring pool.
A thin layer of oil floated on the water's surface.
In the water, there lay a mountain of flesh.
That was a real mountain.
The man looked to weigh over 300 pounds, and his back alone was as wide as an eight-immortal table.
The layers of fat piled up together looked as soft and fluffy as a steamed bun.
But he didn't look clumsy lying in the water.
Instead, he was like a huge block of lard, or an inflated raft, floating lightly on the water, swaying gently with the ripples.
That's a kind of "floating force".
The specialty of the Shanpu Camp is meat processing.
Train your muscles until they become flexible, smooth, and as fluid as water.
What looks like fat is actually a "cotton belly" with hidden strength.
Lu Cheng gave Lu Feng a wink.
The two walked over and stood by the pool.
The mountain of flesh didn't move, not even lifting its eyelids; only its large, fan-like ears twitched slightly. "Greetings, Master Tong."
Lu Cheng's voice was gentle and polite.
"Who's blocking my light?"
The mountain of flesh finally spoke.
The voice was muffled, as if coming from a jar, carrying a hint of languor and impatience, and a trace of—
The arrogance unique to the remnants of the previous dynasty.
He slowly rolled over.
With a splash, water sprayed everywhere.
A large, fleshy face was revealed, with eyes squeezed into slits by the fat and a chin that was stacked in three layers, making it look like a steamed bun that had come to life.
But a glint of gold flashed in Lu Cheng's eyes.
Under his keen eyes, he saw an extremely sharp, needle-like glint in those two squinting eyes.
That was a murderous aura hidden beneath layers of fat.