Chapter 64: Give It Your All

After finishing his meal, Jiang Cheng greeted his grandmother and set out.

Having changed into the Martial Arts Hall's training uniform, the glances he received on the road diminished by ninety percent.

Even when looked at, it was only a fleeting glance before the gaze was shifted away.

Upon reaching the street, not only did the pedestrians noticeably decrease, but even the street vendors setting up stalls were visibly fewer.

Besides that, a few members of the Wild Wolf Gang loitered on the street; whenever they saw a vendor pushing a cart to set up, they would immediately approach and inspect the vendor's stall permit.

This stall permit resembled the Martial Arts Hall's membership card in function, but lacked the latter's refinement—no photo for comparison, no swipe capability; it was merely a numbered plate corresponding to the stall's location, with a date below, usually valid for one month, requiring timely renewal at month's end, and if lost, needing to be repurchased.

Thus, at the beginning and end of each month, the Wild Wolf Gang conducted especially strict checks; anyone caught trying to slip through would meet a grim fate.

With the numbered plate restriction, ordinary people dared not do such a thing.

Seeing Jiang Cheng approach in Martial Arts Hall attire, several Wild Wolf Gang members did not avert their gazes like ordinary people; instead, they stared fixedly at him.

Jiang Cheng kept his eyes forward and walked straight past them.

Watching Jiang Cheng enter the Martial Arts Hall, one of them suddenly remarked, "He really is full of himself, huh?"

"Can members of the Martial Arts Hall not be full of themselves?" another replied.

Another gang member snorted coldly.

Even a fool could hear the resentment in his tone.

This street was theirs, won by the Wild Wolf Gang with real swords and spears; their status went without saying—ordinary people seeing them felt as if they were seeing their ancestors, except for the three Martial Arts Halls on the street, which did not fear them; the people inside those halls simply wore their contempt for the gang on their faces.

Even so, the Gang Leader could do nothing about them and would even take the initiative to maintain good relations.

How could they not be angry?

Yet they truly dared not provoke them, for although most Martial Arts Hall practitioners only learned Flower Fist and Embroidered Leg, some possessed genuine skill; if they dared to lay hands on the other side, the person might be unharmed, but a large compensation would be unavoidable—would the higher-ups tolerate such a payout?

But now, the situation is somewhat different.

They all have to flee; they themselves do not know where they will go next—could the three Martial Arts Halls on the street know? Several people gazed at the Flying Eagle Martial Arts Hall, as if in tacit understanding, none speaking, their eyes unfixed, wondering what they were thinking.

Upon reaching the second floor, Jiang Cheng remained the earliest arriver as before.

He placed the short staff to one side and began practicing standing post exercises.

After two days of practice, he could now persist for eight or nine minutes; on a few occasions when his condition was good, he reached ten minutes, instantly gaining three experience points.

Time passed gradually, and other members of the Martial Arts Hall arrived one after another.

Seeing Jiang Cheng arrive early and practice alone nearby, the senior members were no longer surprised.

Back when they first joined the Martial Arts Hall, they had been the same, fearing to waste money; later they gradually understood that martial arts is not achieved overnight—occasional diligence means nothing; being able to persist for several months or even years is what is truly remarkable.

Midway, Zhao Xiangyu came by once, asking Jiang Cheng whether he had encountered any trouble returning home the previous night; after learning there was none, he again reminded Jiang Cheng to pay more attention in the future before going upstairs.

Jiang Cheng turned around and looked up at the clock on the wall.

There was still a quarter of an hour until nine o'clock.

At that time, Senior Brother Zeng would come down from the third floor.

Thinking of this, Jiang Cheng's heart quickened, he felt a bit nervous, but more so anticipation.

Finally, when the second hand reached the number twelve, a burst of footsteps sounded on the stairs.

At the same moment, the other people on the second floor also turned their gazes over and greeted him.

Zeng Zhiten lightly nodded his head.

As he descended the stairs, preparing to walk over to the few people, a somewhat unfamiliar voice sounded from beside him.

"Senior Brother Zeng, could you please give me some pointers on my staff technique?"

The voice faded, and several senior members not far away were momentarily stunned; but upon recalling that this newcomer always brought two short staffs each day, they also understood.

Zeng Zhiten looked at the person before him, startled for a moment, then recalled who this person was.

"It's Junior Brother Jiang, of course."

He agreed without hesitation, glanced at the others nearby, and said, "I'll give Junior Brother Jiang some pointers first, then I'll find you."

"Okay, okay."

The several people nodded repeatedly.

Anyway, there's plenty of time; they're not in a hurry—after all, watching the spectacle isn't bad either.

At this moment, Jiang Cheng also picked up his two short staffs.

Seeing Jiang Cheng actually wielding double staffs, Zeng Zhiten's eyes flashed with surprise—after all, aside from long weapons requiring two-handed grip, common short weapons are usually single.

Upon further observing Jiang Cheng's grip on the staff and his overall posture, his eyes narrowed and he asked, "Have you practiced before?"

"?"

The few people not far away, seeing this, felt that something seemed a bit off.

In their view, even if Jiang Cheng could use double staffs as a weapon, he would still be a novice, at most able to intimidate people.

Otherwise, how could he not even know standing post, requiring Brother Zhao to start from scratch, explaining step by step?

The result was that the usually stern Senior Brother Zeng now seemed to be getting serious—could it be that this newcomer actually has some skill?

"I've practiced for a few years myself, though no one has guided me; I've just been training blindly on my own," Jiang Cheng said with a bitter smile.

"En."

Zeng Zhiten pondered for a moment, then nodded and said, "Come with me."

Speaking, he walked toward the left front.

There were placed wooden dummies, human-shaped training aids, and the like.

Jiang Cheng followed him up.

The few people not far away stared at each other.

"How is it? Want to go over and take a look?" someone asked.

"Forget it; a newcomer, what's there to see? Even if he's practiced short staff for a few years, so what? Didn't you hear him say he's been training blindly on his own?" someone shrugged, showing some disdain.

Seeing Senior Brother Zeng's expression, that kid seems to have some skill, and anyway it's not a bad time, so let's go over and take a look.

Sun Xiaoli, what do you think?

Sun Xiaoli thought for a moment and said, "Then let's go over and take a look; it's rare to see Senior Brother Zeng demonstrate the Staff Technique, perhaps we can also learn something."

Indeed.

The few of them all felt she was right, so one by one they followed over.

Zeng Zhiten, with Jiang Cheng, arrived in front of a training dummy.

The dummy has a full upper body and legs; below that is a sphere, like a roly‑poly standing still.

"Use all your strength to strike the dummy in front of you."

Zeng Zhiten stood aside, looked at Jiang Cheng and said.

Through Jiang Cheng's strength, speed, and accuracy, he can roughly judge Jiang Cheng's skill.

(End of chapter)