Fists can't cross Tianjin

Chapter 35 Helping Out

As soon as I entered, it felt like I had entered another world.

Outside, the streets were bitterly cold, but inside was a tranquil and elegant garden. Several tall magnolia trees and a few wintersweet bushes grew in the yard. Although it was winter, the yard was spotless, without a single fallen leaf.

A person was standing at the bottom of the steps of that red brick building.

A burly man wearing black training clothes and cloth shoes with multi-layered soles.

The man was probably in his forties, with a buzz cut, prominent temples, and his hands behind his back, as steady as a mountain, like a stake driven into the ground.

He's a trained fighter.

The middle-aged man who had led the way walked up to the burly man, whispered a few words to him, and then handed him the note.

The burly man took the note, glanced at it, casually stuffed it into his pocket, then looked up, his gaze shooting towards Chen Zhuo like lightning.

"Anyone introduced by Lao Xie is one of our own."

The burly man's voice was loud and clear, full of energy. "However, the Zeng family has its own rules. If you want to enter this house, you have to get past me first. My name is Zhang Weiguo, the head of the guards here. You can call me Old Zhang."

He took a step forward, not striking any pose, but simply standing there casually.

But in Chen Zhuo's eyes, this station blocked all routes of attack.

This is a master.

"Which style of martial arts do you practice, friend?" Old Zhang cupped his hands slightly, offering a traditional greeting.

This is the road.

"Xingyi." Chen Zhuo returned the greeting with clasped hands. "You're a self-taught practitioner; you've never formally studied under a master."

"Xingyi?" Old Zhang raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. "Xingyi is a very prestigious school in Tianjin. A school that Old Xie would take notice of must have something special about it."

He stomped his foot slightly, and the blue bricks on the ground made a soft "creak" sound.

"I practice Bajiquan. Want to lend a hand?"

Old Zhang stretched out one hand, palm up, making a "please" gesture.

This is the rule of the underworld.

Making a move is both a test and a contest. It requires determining who is better while also saving face.

Chen Zhuo knew he had to get through this hurdle. And not only had to get through it, but he had to do it well. He couldn't afford to lose too badly, nor could he win too decisively. After all, he was there to apply for a job, not to cause trouble.

"Please give me your guidance, Master Zhang."

Chen Zhu clasped his hands in a salute, then took a deep breath and stepped forward.

He extended his right hand and placed it on Old Zhang's wrist.

At the touch of a hair.

The moment their wrists touched, they didn't immediately exert force, but instead, like two snakes, they intertwined and probed each other.

This is "listening skill".

Chen Zhuo felt that Lao Zhang's arm was as heavy as iron, as if it contained an explosive force, like a landmine that could detonate at any moment.

The cheat code quietly activated.

In his vision, the flow of energy within Old Zhang's body was clearly visible. It was a red torrent rising from the Yongquan acupoint on the sole of his foot, passing through his knees, waist, and hips, and finally converging at his spine, like a fully drawn bow.

These are the unique "sinking force" and "cross-shaped integrated force" of Bajiquan.

Sudden.

Old Zhang made a move.

Without any warning, his wrist suddenly flipped, like an iron clamp gripping Chen Zhuo's pulse point, and then his foot stepped forward, his shoulder slamming into him like a mountain.

Bajiquan, leaning against the mountain!

This impact was so powerful and heavy that if it had landed squarely, Chen Zhuo's small frame would have been completely broken.

If it were the old Chen Zhuo, he would probably have instinctively used brute force to withstand the blow, or used his striking skills to resist it.

But now, after the butcher's guidance, the word "pine" flashed through his mind.

Relax your shoulders, drop your elbows, tuck your chest, and straighten your back.

Chen Zhuo did not resist head-on, but instead followed Lao Zhang's force, his body slightly sinking and his shoulders slumping down loosely.

"what?"

Old Zhang let out a soft "hmm." He felt as if he had bumped into a ball of cotton, and most of his strength had been dissipated when he leaned against it.

Immediately afterwards, Chen Zhuo flipped his wrist and, using the momentum of his body sinking, grabbed Lao Zhang's wrist with his other hand, then suddenly jerked his shoulder.

Bear shank!

This tremor uses the strength of the whole body, a springy tremor driven by the spine.

Although he had only just begun, this feeling of relaxation and sinking energy came extremely suddenly.

Old Zhang felt a strong force surge through his wrist, and his center of gravity swayed slightly.

But he was a seasoned veteran, and his reaction was extremely quick. In the instant he lost his balance, he changed his palm into a fist and delivered a powerful, short-range strike to Chen Zhuo's chest.

A fierce tiger stubbornly climbs the mountain!

If that punch had landed, Chen Zhuo would have broken at least two ribs.

Chen Zhuo did not retreat, nor could he retreat.

He took a deep breath, his chest contracted sharply, and he crossed his arms to protect his chest.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Chen Zhuo stumbled back three steps until his back hit a magnolia tree before he stopped.

Old Zhang also backed down.

The courtyard was deathly silent.

The middle-aged man who had led the way looked at Chen Zhuo with some surprise. He knew how formidable Old Zhang was; he was a reconnaissance company commander who had crawled out of piles of corpses, and ordinary three or five strong men couldn't even get close to him. This seemingly down-on-his-luck young man could actually hold his own against Old Zhang?

Old Zhang stopped his attack, looked at Chen Zhuo, and the sharpness in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a hint of appreciation.

"What a fine 'bear shoulder'!"

Old Zhang nodded. "You're a bit like Old Xie. You have a good foundation, but your body is a bit weak, and you haven't fully mastered the skills yet. If you wait another two years, I might not be able to beat you with my old bones."

Chen Zhuo rubbed his numb arm and said with a wry smile, "Master Zhang went easy on me. If you hadn't held back at the last minute, I would be lying on the ground by now."

He was telling the truth.

Old Zhang held back 70% of his strength the moment he made contact with that punch. Otherwise, he would be spitting out blood instead of air.

In fact, in that instant, the Golden Finger's vision clearly showed the circulation route of Old Zhang's internal energy, the points of force exertion, and even the flow of his blood and qi. If Chen Zhuo wanted, he could easily try to simulate the explosive force of Bajiquan.

But he didn't dare to move.

In the martial arts world, stealing someone's skills is a major taboo, potentially leading to the loss of limbs.

Moreover, he's here to beg for shelter. If he were to "steal" someone's best skills the moment they meet, he might not even be able to leave alive, let alone get in.

So he could only endure it, using his half-baked "bear's shoulder" to tough it out.

"In this courtyard, you have to learn to keep things under control."

Old Zhang said meaningfully, "Too stiff and it'll break easily; too soft and it won't stand up. Your balance between stiffness and softness is still lacking."

Just then, everyone looked up at the same time.

Chen Zhuo also looked up.

A window on the second floor had been opened at some point.

An elderly man with a full head of silver hair, wearing an old long gown, stood in front of the window, looking down at the scene in the courtyard.

Although they were far apart, Chen Zhuo could sense the glint in the old man's eyes.

It was the majesty of someone who had long held a high position, and also the world-weariness of someone who had seen through the vicissitudes of life.

The old man glanced at it, then nodded slightly to the middle-aged man downstairs before closing the window.

The middle-aged man breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Chen Zhuo, saying, "Old Zeng has agreed. From today onwards, you'll stay here. You'll be on probation for three months, with room and board provided, and a stipend of twenty yuan per month. After three months, we'll see how you perform and then decide whether you stay or leave."

Twenty yuan.

Although it's not as good as a regular job, it's an astronomical sum for a migrant worker. More importantly, it includes food and lodging.

"Thank you." Chen Zhuo didn't waste any more words, but simply said thank you calmly.

"Come with me, I'll take you to where you're staying."

The middle-aged man led Chen Zhuo around the main building and to a row of rear houses in the backyard.

This place was originally where servants and coachmen lived. Although the conditions were not as good as the main building, they were much better than the tenement.

"This place is yours from now on."

The middle-aged man pushed open one of the room doors.

The room wasn't big, only about ten square meters. There was a wooden bed, a table, a chair, and some miscellaneous items piled up in the corner. But it was clean and didn't let in any draft.

"I'm the housekeeper here, call me Uncle Liu," the middle-aged man said, standing at the door. "There aren't many rules here, but there's one you must remember: don't look at what you shouldn't see, and don't ask what you shouldn't ask. Old Zeng prefers quiet, so don't go near the main building unless you have to. Also, don't go into that small storage room in the backyard without a key."

"Understood, Uncle Liu."

"Okay, then you can get ready first. Go to the kitchen later and find Aunt Li to get two sets of clothes. Dinner is at six o'clock tonight."

After saying that, Uncle Liu turned and left.