leonardwarren Chapter 24 Ming Jin
Chapter 24 Ming Jin
Zhou Yu stopped, raised his chin at Lin Mu, indicating that they could begin.
Lin Mu took a half step with his left foot and raised both hands.
Zhou Yu didn't test him; he pounced straight at him.
His right fist flipped out from his waist, his muscles and bones creaking, and with a crisp "snap," the fist flew straight towards Lin Mu's chest.
This punch used visible force.
He wanted to defeat his enemy in one move and prove himself in front of everyone.
Why should a lowly servant spar with him?
Facing this punch.
Lin Mu slightly turned his body, his palm brushing against his clothes, the wind from his punch sweeping across his cheek, and his hair fluttering.
An understatement.
Zhou Yu frowned, and the second punch followed immediately, still a powerful blow aimed straight at his face.
Lin Mu took a half step back, his fist grazing an inch in front of his nose without even touching his skin.
Zhou Yu's face darkened.
He pushed off the ground with his left foot, unleashing the full power of his sudden wind step, and shot towards Lin Mu like an arrow, while his right fist changed direction, heading straight for Lin Mu's neck.
The punch was fast and fierce, accompanied by a sharp whistle.
Lin Mu twisted his waist and moved like a gust of wind to Zhou Yu's side, his fist grazing his shoulder.
Light cloud and wind.
Zhou Yu withdrew his fist, took a breath, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Under the eaves, Chen Yuan frowned and muttered to himself:
Why hasn't Lin Mu dared to counter his attacks?
"All you do is hide?"
Cui Mingyue and Ye Lang exchanged push-hands, pretending to practice their boxing, while their eyes remained fixed on Zhou Yu and Lin Mu.
A moment later, the clues became clear.
The problem lay in Lin Mu's footwork—the Wind-Stepping Step, where each step was timed perfectly to coincide with the gaps in Zhou Yu's punches, neither too early nor too late.
This wasn't luck, it was foresight.
Lin Mu's combat ability is quite good.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, Cui Mingyue gently brushed Ye Lang's hand away, saying regretfully:
"It's a pity his aptitude isn't good; otherwise, he could have become a guard in the Cui family."
Ye Lang did not respond, his gaze remaining fixed on the courtyard.
Lin Mu dodged another punch.
Zhou Yu's punches grew heavier and heavier, but he couldn't hit his target; no matter how hard he punched, it was useless.
Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his breathing became erratic.
Lin Mu never fought back, only dodged and continuously depleted his opponent's energy.
Lin Mu only began to counterattack after his opponent's vital energy was exhausted.
Zhou Yu's response was rather strained.
At this point, even the most foolish person would have noticed something amiss.
Chen Yuan opened his mouth, no longer making a fuss, but in his heart he had vaguely accepted the fact that Lin Mu was stronger than him.
If he can't even beat Ming Jin, then it's normal that he can't beat him either.
The senior disciple, sitting some distance away, took a sip of wine and nodded.
Yan Hua passed by, noticed the somewhat awkward atmosphere, glanced at the scene, and frowned: "Useless."
As for who it refers to, nobody knows.
In the end, the instructor clapped his hands and called a halt, thus relieving Zhou Yu from the predicament.
......
That evening, there were significantly more people from the Foreign Languages Department than usual.
The moon was high in the sky, and people were still practicing martial arts in the courtyard.
Several junior disciples with lower physical constitutions did not disperse early as usual, but stayed in the courtyard, practicing their boxing over and over again.
On the contrary, Lin Mu didn't receive any message from his second uncle all day, so he returned to the village ahead of schedule.
The lack of a verbal message indicates that his second uncle was unwilling to betray him.
Although Scarface is dead, the village chief remains.
......
The old locust tree at the village entrance was shrouded in the crescent moon, and every household had its doors closed.
Lin Mu walked along the wall, his movements as swift as the wind, silently darting through the alley like a swallow.
When he arrived at the old house, he listened carefully—his second uncle's yard was quiet, with only the short "cluck cluck cluck" of the hen.
The hen was hungry.
He retreated to the base of the wall, touched the ground with his feet, and lightly flipped over the courtyard wall, landing next to his second uncle's woodpile.
The courtyard was empty, with nothing on the clothesline. The door to the main room was ajar, and through the crack, a thin layer of ash covered the tables and chairs, while the stove was cold.
Lin Mu was standing in the courtyard, about to turn around, when footsteps came from outside the gate.
He slipped behind the door and peeked out through the crack—it was Wang Ma, who lived across the alley.
She was carrying a basket of vegetables and was walking this way.
Lin Mu pushed open the door and went out.
Wang Ma was startled and patted her chest, "Oh dear, Brother Mu, you scared me to death!"
Lin Muchao glanced at his second uncle's courtyard: "Wang Ma, where's my second uncle?"
Wang Ma looked around and lowered her voice, "I don't know either. Just last night, your second uncle and aunt were arguing so fiercely that I could hear it from next door."
"It seems your second aunt wants your second uncle to do something, but he absolutely refuses."
"Later, your second aunt cried and made a scene, saying things like, 'If something happens next year, I won't live either.'"
"But your second uncle still wouldn't agree."
"The whole family left before dawn today."
"They said they were going to hide in another village."
Wang Ma sighed and pointed to the chickens in the yard.
"Isn't your cousin going to take the imperial examination? This is to help your cousin recover. Since you can't take it with you, you asked me to feed it to him."
Lin Mu asked, "Do you know why they're arguing?"
Aunt Wang shook her head: "They didn't say the specifics, but I reckon it's related to those fierce-looking guys who came before."
She paused, then lowered her voice even further, "Brother Mu, don't ask anymore, just go."
Lin Mu returned to the courtyard and waited until Wang Ma left before slipping out from under the wall and returning to his second uncle's courtyard. He left one hundred coins and departed.
......
In the following days, Lin Mu began practicing boxing like crazy.
When practicing Zhan Zhuang (standing meditation), try to sink your body to the lowest possible level.
The Long Wind Fist moves from the first move to the twelfth move, and then back to the first move, grinding back and forth.
Body tempering techniques were not neglected either.
Qi and blood disperse throughout the body and then gather back to the dantian. Between dispersing and gathering, the body's resilience becomes stronger and stronger, and the qi and blood become more and more abundant.
Over two days, my knuckles were worn raw and scabbed over, then the scabs fell off and the knuckles were worn raw again.
Until that night, he felt a thin membrane covering his fist.
Without hesitation, he bit through the dragon scale water, frantically activated his body-tempering technique, and squeezed his blood and qi to the soles of his feet.
stand.
He threw punches wildly.
Until late at night, his clothes were soaked with sweat.
A night breeze blew by, giving him a sense of sublimation.
Exhausted, he mustered his strength once more and threw a punch.
This punch is meant to shatter the long-standing humiliation of being bullied.
This punch is meant to shatter the curse of a person with extremely poor physical constitution;
This punch is meant to cleave the insurmountable barrier between servants and martial artists;
"Snap—"
The bones and muscles resonated, the crisp sound like a whip striking a stone slab, exploding in the quiet courtyard.
It was as if a long-suppressed river had been released, making him feel so exhilarated that he wanted to shout it out.
Then he noticed that the membrane on his fist was broken.
The world has become clearer.
Inside the pavilion, the eldest disciple's hand, holding a gourd of wine, froze in mid-air, wine overflowing from the gourd's mouth and dripping down his fingers.
By the window in the inner courtyard, Master Hu stood with his hands behind his back, gazing up at the moonlight, his eyes brimming with tears.
He can finally get a full night's sleep now...
Then you could hear Lin Mu practicing his punches like crazy, the sound of his bones cracking and popping, slap slap slap, slap slap slap.
After a while, Lin Mu felt that punching in the air wasn't satisfying enough, so he channeled his internal energy and punched the bamboo.
"Crack—" The bamboo snapped in response, the broken end bursting open and bamboo shavings flying everywhere.
The upper half fell diagonally, the bamboo leaves rustling.
Master Hu: "..."
If it weren't for the boy's desire to "survive" and his rigorous daily training, he probably wouldn't have been able to endure it.