Chapter Fifty-Eight: Four Centuries of Mastery

Chapter 58: Four Hundred Years of Mastery

“You can’t be serious—are you actually interested in Lu Xiaoxiao?”

When he heard that Chen Xiao had decided to teach Lu Xiaoxiao martial arts, Xu Ershao cried out in astonishment, his eyes boring into Chen Xiao as if flowers had sprouted from the tip of Chen Xiao’s nose.

Chen Xiao shook his head. “I have my own special reasons. I just… can’t explain them to you right now.”

Xu Ershao thought for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. If you have your difficulties, I won’t press you. But you’d better be careful. Lu Xiaoxiao isn’t the kind of girl you can just flirt with. My family and the Lu family are quite close. The old man of the Lu family is very shrewd—if anyone tries anything with his daughter, he’d probably stuff them in an iron drum, seal it with cement, and toss it into the sea.”

Xu Ershao’s injuries were much lighter than Chen Xiao’s—he’d only twisted his ankle from that flying kick. Chen Xiao, on the other hand, was covered in bruises, his once handsome face swollen and battered, one eye puffed up, and his chin split open. At first, Xu Ershao wanted Chen Xiao to stay in the school infirmary’s ward, but Chen Xiao insisted on going home, worried about Yaya waiting for him there.

The aftermath of the dojo challenge was clear: for the next two days, wherever Chen Xiao went in school, people around him would cast strange glances his way, whispering and pointing. Chen Xiao didn’t need to overhear to know what they were saying—no doubt calling him a freak of monstrous strength.

Xiao Qing, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected by her “defeat.” Less than a week into her time at Gide Academy, she’d already been crowned the school’s number one beauty by more than half the male students. Wherever she went—library, gymnasium, classrooms, cafeteria—a crowd of boys would follow in her wake.

Within just a week, the great beauty Xiao Qing had broken a new record since the founding of Gide Academy: the sales of the four flower shops around campus had quadrupled in seven days! In the girls’ locker room, her locker was filled daily with gifts: fresh flowers, presents, chocolates, and much more.

Rumor had it that one besotted young scion, stunned by Xiao Qing’s beauty, impulsively spent a fortune on a luxury sports car to present to her, hoping to invite her for an enchanting evening together…

In the end, in full view of the crowd, Xiao Qing said nothing to the young man. She simply turned and strode to the sports equipment room, emerged with a baseball bat, and right there before everyone, proceeded to smash the nearly million-yuan car into scrap metal.

According to Xu Ershao, who was present at the time: even from ten meters away, he could feel Xiao Qing’s explosive energy. Watching her come out with the bat, he genuinely worried she might kill someone in her anger—thankfully, she took it out on the car.

The young heir, watching his sports car reduced to junk, was on the verge of tears. Xu Ershao kindly patted him on the shoulder and consoled, “Next time, don’t bring her a sports car. Bring a tank—a tank is harder to smash.”

•

Chen Xiao’s days recently had been quite fulfilling. First, he finally taught Yaya to sleep in her own bed, sparing himself the anxiety that, if things continued as they were, he’d either suffer a burst blood vessel or turn into a berserk werewolf.

Second, Chen Xiao began seeking advice from Uncle Tian—of the three unscrupulous old bosses on Ruined Street, he was closest with Old Tian, whose temper was as mild as a saint. After several days together, Chen Xiao had learned a bit of Old Tian’s background:

This ancient monster, now over four hundred years old, was born in the Jiajing era of the Ming Dynasty. He had originally been a martial arts master, famed for his swordsmanship, his blade swift beyond compare…

Well, Chen Xiao had to admit, when he first heard the description, he wondered if Old Tian’s real name wasn’t “Tian Boguang.”

Old Tian’s abilities were rather unique. Due to some inexplicable genetic mutation, his lifespan was greatly extended, and it seemed his body’s metabolism had changed, drastically slowing the aging process.

In truth, Old Tian had no other special abilities—he simply lived much longer than ordinary people.

But…he was still a martial arts master! A typical practitioner might spend decades honing their skills, but four hundred years of relentless training—even if it wasn’t the Nine Yang Divine Skill but just breaking stones on his chest—would be enough to make anyone the greatest martial artist in the world.

As Old Tian put it, when he was a hundred, he still looked no older than a youth of twenty, and had already bested all the martial artists under heaven, nearly invincible. By the age of one hundred and fifty, the word “nearly” could be erased—he no longer bothered with matches, turning instead to collecting martial arts manuals from all corners of the land.

It wasn’t until the end of the Qing Dynasty, when firearms became mainstream and the age of cold steel came to an end, that martial arts began their decline.

“There was nothing to be done,” Old Tian said with a sigh. “Ten years of training can’t match a single bullet. Under those circumstances, few were willing to devote themselves to bitter, thankless hard work.”

Hearing this, Chen Xiao couldn’t help but ask, “If ten years of training is no match for a bullet, then what about you? After four hundred years, could you catch a bullet?”

Old Tian’s answer sent a cold sweat down Chen Xiao’s back.

Old Tian pondered seriously, “If it’s an ordinary gun, catching a bullet is no problem. If the rate of fire is very high…it becomes difficult.” After a pause, he added, “If I really can’t catch it, I can always dodge.”

Dodge bullets… At that moment, the classic scene from The Matrix flashed through Chen Xiao’s mind—Old Tian, with his honest face, donning Keanu Reeves’s iconic black coat and performing that famous bullet-dodging bend…

Chen Xiao couldn’t help but ask another question: after living more than four centuries, had Old Tian transcended martial arts to become an immortal, stepping into the realm of cultivation?

Old Tian gave Chen Xiao a withering look and dismissed the idea with a pat on the shoulder: “You should cut back on those fantasy novels.”

With such a supreme martial artist at hand, Chen Xiao naturally sought his help. Ever since he’d promised to teach Lu Xiaoxiao, the young lady had hounded him almost eight times a day, pestering him about when he’d reveal his “divine skill.” Chen Xiao had exhausted all his excuses; any further delay and his cover would be blown.

Old Tian, hearing his plea, smiled and first taught Chen Xiao a breathing technique—not some mystical internal skill, but a simple, ancient regimen long lost to time. It wasn’t martial arts, but a health practice.

It was said that practicing it could prolong life and had remarkable effects on heart disease, high blood pressure, insomnia, anxiety, and so on. It also improved heart and lung function, and for girls, even enhanced beauty.

Chen Xiao shamelessly passed this breathing technique on to Lu Xiaoxiao, telling her it was an unrivaled supreme skill, and that, once mastered, she’d be able to shatter stones with a single palm. Having witnessed Chen Xiao’s feats of strength firsthand, Lu Xiaoxiao believed him without question, and happily went off to practice.

In addition, Uncle Tian taught Chen Xiao a set of boxing techniques, tailored specifically for him.

“Your special ability is strength, but brute force alone isn’t enough. If you lack technique, you’ll be useless against a skilled fighter. Take that Xiao Qing you mentioned—by your description, she’s a trained martial artist. If you face such an opponent, all the strength in the world won’t help if you can’t land a hit. Not just Xiao Qing—even that guy you beat, the one who practiced Hong Fist—if he hadn’t underestimated you, if he’d really fought with all his skill, you might not have beaten him.”

Chen Xiao understood the truth of this. He was like a three-year-old swinging a thousand-pound hammer—strength alone wasn’t enough.

So he earnestly learned the set of boxing techniques from Old Tian. It wasn’t complicated—Old Tian, considering Chen Xiao’s foundation, chose a straightforward style that best leveraged his strength.

“This set is called ‘Short Strike.’ I developed it myself when I was two hundred. It’s not really original; my martial arts relied mainly on diligence, not talent. In ‘Short Strike,’ I blended the most forceful moves from Tongbei, Pigua, Hong Fist, Shaolin, and other styles, making some adjustments to suit my needs. For someone with your attributes, it’s ideal.”

Though Chen Xiao had never practiced martial arts, his taekwondo training was still a form of striking art. After a few days of practice, he began to get the hang of it.

As for Lu Bancheng, in these days, Zhu Rong and Gong Gong had taken turns secretly watching over their client, but the blackmailer had made no further moves. Zhu Rong, Gong Gong, and even Old Tian, lacked expertise in psychic abilities and could only defend passively.

Fortunately, the three old fellows had plenty of time, and the job wasn’t just for money—it helped pass the tedium. So dragging it out a bit didn’t matter.

(Friendly reminder: The strong recommendation period is ending soon! Please remember to bookmark this novel, or you might have trouble finding it on the front page once the promotion ends~ And don’t forget to vote~~)

[There will be another chapter tonight!]