Chapter 662: Anticipation

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Under police interrogation through the night, Fremini did not hold out long and confessed; his lawyer, faced with ironclad evidence, failed to deploy his famed eloquence.

Considering he had only intended to cause trouble for the Albert Group and never meant to harm Albert's family, he wished to confess sincerely and hoped Eric would show mercy.

Hancock is surely doomed to spend the rest of his life in prison—whether he'll ever walk free is uncertain.

As for Fremini, though he is indeed a billionaire, the Wester Group is not entirely under his control.

Once he's imprisoned, his siblings and relatives are eager to seize his position immediately.

Thus, there was little internal resistance within the Wester Group; some even seized the opportunity to propose a truce with the Albert Group.

Fremini won't be locked up for decades like Hancock, but he will still serve time in prison.

Still, he'll likely be released on medical parole soon—he's a wealthy man, after all.

Justice has its source, and debt has its owner; Eric had no intention of driving Fremini to total ruin, for though Fremini was foolish, his moral bottom line was still higher than Hancock's.

If Eric showed no mercy at all, he might just create another deadly enemy.

With this, the matter ended—but online discussions remained heated, for the scale of the scandal, involving so many celebrities and wealthy families, could not easily extinguish the public's thirst for gossip.

After spending one night in their old home, Eric's family moved to Huaerjie.

The property was arranged by Mia's father—a fat man with a belly nearly half a meter in diameter, clearly ravaged by American fast food, weighing at least three hundred jin.

From his appearance alone, one could never guess Mia, such a stunning beauty, was his daughter.

Yet this man named Karawa was quite amiable, always smiling, and even helped arrange the movers during the relocation.

Their new residence was in a building on Huaerjie.

It wasn't particularly tall—only about thirty floors—and not a landmark of Huaerjie, its exterior appearing quite ordinary.

But it was a building exclusively for the ultra-rich, with every two floors forming a single suite, each with unique, distinctive interior design; some suites rivaled the golden villas of Arab princes in opulence.

Yet Eric disliked such flamboyant styles and chose a simpler design, claiming it was inspired by British royal architecture—elegant, luxurious, yet refined.

But Eric had once lived in Buckingham Palace as if it were his own home, and could not see any resemblance between this suite and British royal design.

Yet design interpretation rests with the designer; laypeople don't understand, so they simply accepted his claim.

As long as it was spacious enough, that was all that mattered.

This suite spanned two floors, over a thousand square meters—quite sizable.

Natural light and ventilation were excellent, and Mia's home was directly below; now Mia could visit without driving—very convenient.

After inspecting the house, Mia's father ordered the moving company to begin work.

The items to be moved weren't excessive—mainly Eric and his wife's clothes, books, and baby supplies.

Then came Miss Luo Quan and Liang's studio equipment: mainly large items from the recording studio, several computers, and three Steinway pianos.

Originally there was only one; Eric added one after Miss Luo Quan arrived, and another after Luo Xi was born.

Though they had barely been played since purchase, having them was better than not having them.

The moving company worked all day; Miss Luo Quan had already packed her clothes and settled into her new room.

"Fans, we've moved to our new home—what do you think of the environment?"

Miss Luo Quan held up her phone, showing her fans the new bedroom.

The room's overall style was a very girlish pink tone, with lace pink gauze draping the four corners of the bed, making it resemble a princess's boudoir.

"Oh, this damn pink—my heart is melting."

"Already moved into a new home? That's inhumanly rich!"

"Family in real estate? This must be basic operation."

"By the way, where's the location? How much per square meter?"

"Look at the bathroom—the quality of a bedroom lies within the bedroom!"

…………

Fans bombarded the live chat with questions, but the address could not be disclosed; however, fans wanting to see the bathroom was perfectly fine to show.

"I can't reveal the address, but it's in Manhattan—let me show you the bathroom," Miss Luo Quan said, opening the bathroom door.

The interior was even more spacious than she expected, entirely pink, about thirty square meters, half of which was taken up by a bathtub.

"Wuhu, such a huge bathtub."

"Alright, today's livestream ends here."

"????"

"Your thinking is so erratic—you couldn't wait just because you saw the bathtub?"

"Content below requires paid unlock."

………………

"You guys are something else…" Miss Luo Quan laughed helplessly, then walked out after touring the bathroom.

"Alright, that's the tour done. Yesterday, many fans asked me to teach them martial arts—today I'll teach you."

Miss Luo Quan placed her phone on the desk, stood in front of the camera, and opened Bilibili on another phone, screen facing herself:

"The Some Zhihu answer yesterday already explained clearly—I've shown Wing Chun, Baji Quan, Xin Yi Ba; I also know some Tai Chi and Xing Yi Quan. Which one do you want to learn?"

"They all sound like deadly techniques."

"Martial arts are killing techniques—only ruthless ones deserve the name 'traditional martial arts.'"

"Can you teach Beidou Beidou Shenquan?"

"I want to learn military-style boxing."

"Let's vote."

…………

Half the comments were serious, half humorous—some viewers genuinely wanted to learn, others just came for the spectacle.

That was normal—not everyone had the resolve to fulfill their Wu Xia dream; training martial arts was never comfortable.

Following the live chat's suggestions, Miss Luo Quan launched a vote—the most voted technique turned out to be Wing Chun.

Thinking about it, that made sense.

After all, the Ip Man film series in this world was currently the best and most popular martial arts action movie franchise.

The Ip Man universe was among the top IPs in Inheriting Huaxia, with far more films produced than in her previous life, and many more martial arts styles featured.

Half the current popularity and prestige of traditional martial arts came from Ip Man and Wing Chun.

Among the public, the most recognized martial art, besides Tai Chi, was Wing Chun.

Moreover, as a martial art created by a woman, Wing Chun held considerable practical value—many UFC fighters and special forces units abroad trained it.

Including Miss Luo Quan herself—Wing Chun was among the first martial arts she had exchanged for.

There was no choice—it was too well-known, and its power was genuinely impressive.

"You guys picked well," Miss Luo Quan smiled. "But practicing Wing Chun requires a wooden dummy—I don't have one here yet, so we'll have to wait a while."

"Still, some techniques don't need a dummy."

Miss Luo Quan picked up a pillow and hung it on a wall-mounted hook: "For example, the Sun Zi Chong Quan I'm about to demonstrate—a famous, visually explosive technique from the Ninety-One Wing Chun forms."

"The key isn't speed—it's mastering steady breathing and alternating punch rhythm. Once you achieve these two, speed naturally follows; if you chase speed alone, you'll only become flustered…"

Miss Luo Quan stared into the camera, explaining the technique's details with full seriousness; the live chat erupted in delight.

"She really wants to teach us how to punch."

"Luo Bao looks so adorable when she's serious."

"Why are you all just standing there? Take notes!"

"My long-dreamed-of Miss Luo Quan teacher appeared in this exact way."

"Are you moved?"

"Can't move, can't move."

…………

Miss Luo Quan ignored the playful comments, raised both hands, and took a deep breath: "Watch closely—don't blink. Observe the correct way to execute this technique."

As soon as she spoke, her fists struck the pillow in rapid succession like pile drivers, so fast they formed an elliptical afterimage.

Viewed together, they truly resembled the character " Ri "—hence the name Sun Zi Chong Quan.

But Miss Luo Quan's speed far exceeded what was shown in films; even through the thick pillow, her punches made the wall clap loudly.

The sound resembled heavy rain on banana leaves—rhythmic, relentless, continuous.

After thirty seconds of continuous striking, Miss Luo Quan felt she could no longer hold out and finally stopped.

Under normal circumstances, she could have sustained it longer.

But to prevent excessive upper-body movement, she had expended most of her strength tensing her muscles—this was physically draining.

When fighting bandits, of course, one didn't care about such details—do whatever feels natural.

But this was a livestream—she had to consider her image and couldn't be too casual.

After completing this set, the playful comments in the live chat vanished entirely.

"Damn, that's fast!"

"Unreal—can you really punch that fast?"

"Faster than what I saw in previous videos."

"Each punch feels like it could kill me outright."

"You can remove the 'feeling' part."

"This is what traditional martial arts truly look like—once unleashed, it's either death or crippling. Ordinary people can't withstand this."

"So now all of this has been banned."

"Coach, I want to learn this!"

"Coach: You want to learn? I damn well want to learn too!"

…………

Seeing the comments finally turn serious, Miss Luo Quan smiled: "Reaching my level requires slow, patient practice—step by step. Unless you're naturally gifted, progress is usually very slow."

I spent just over a year mastering it. If you want to train, three to five years should be about right."

"But before that, you must first build up your body. Martial arts demand good nutrition and strong health. If you're all in subpar condition—unable to run a thousand meters without nearly dying—how are you even going to train?"

"Now that you say that, I've completely lost interest. Being a shut-in is better."

"I envy you guys who can run a thousand meters—I'm already exhausted just walking."

"In high school, my body was fine, but since college, it's gotten worse every day."

"They say the poor study, the rich train. My family is poor—I'll stick to reading."

"They say all trades are lowly except scholarship."

………………

Seeing a flood of commenters backing down, Miss Luo Quan sighed and feigned dramatic disappointment: "Sigh, I knew your bodies couldn't handle it…"

"What's wrong with us? You can insult me for being poor, short, or ugly—but don't say I'm incapable!"

"Those words are the greatest insult to this man of honor!"

"Woman, it seems I must show you my manly prowess."

…………

The comments exploded with excitement—though that was only natural. Which man wouldn't be stirred by such words, especially coming from Miss Luo Quan?

Yet facing this outburst, she calmly pulled a wooden board from her backpack.

She'd picked it up from the floor of her old home during the move—a high-end solid wood floorboard, a finger's thickness.

"I just demonstrated the Sun Punch. Now I'll show you another famous technique of Wing Chun—the Cun Punch."

Miss Luo Quan gripped the board with her left hand and held it before her: "Don't blink—watch closely. I'll demonstrate this only once."

As she spoke, she opened her right hand, fingertips aimed at the board.

In the next instant, her entire body snapped forward like a spring, driving her fist forward exactly one inch.

In the blink of an eye, the board shattered and flew off, slamming into the wall.

The break was a jagged tear—fresh, clean, with no trace of trickery.

"This punch took twenty years of training. Can you block it?" Miss Luo Quan held up the broken board, grinning triumphantly.

"My god, if this hit me, would I even survive?"

"Luo Warrior, take my knees!"

"No wonder she's China's top female fist—absolutely incredible."

"I really want to learn this."

"True—if I mastered this, I wouldn't fear thugs anymore."

"Wing Chun really works for self-defense."

………………

Seeing her fans now spoke with genuine conviction, Miss Luo Quan set the board aside: "I understand your passion—but remember, you must first train your body."

"Only with a strong physique can you lay a solid foundation. Rushing into training risks injuring yourself."

"Decided! I'll exercise one hour every day!"

"I'll train two hours!"

"Somehow, I doubt promises like this last long."

"Master, I bow before you!"

"Guardian goddess, from now on I believe in you—bless me with smooth fortune!"

"You guys are really something."

…………

Though the comments still had their share of nonsense, at least they had achieved Miss Luo Quan's intended effect.