FWF Chapter 18 I Owe You a Favor
Chapter 18 I Owe You a Favor
The atmosphere inside the antique-style martial arts hall was somber.
A dozen or so elderly and middle-aged men, their temples bulging, sat together watching a video projected on the wall.
The image freezes precisely on the moment Ma Cong delivers a powerful, mountain-hugging strike that sends the bread cart flying.
"It is authentic Neijia Bajiquan (internal martial arts style)."
A middle-aged man, dressed in a black training uniform, spoke in a deep voice, his body brimming with vigorous energy like a furnace.
"Moreover, it's a 'bursting' force that's been honed to the bone."
"We must find out the truth!" Another hot-tempered elder of the Zhang family slammed his fist on the table. "The authentic secrets of my Bajiquan sect are never leaked! Where did this kid steal them from?!"
"Junior Brother Zhang, please calm down."
At the head of the table, an elderly man with white hair and beard and a gaunt face slowly spoke.
He is Wu Yu, the current head of the Bajiquan sect and the patriarch of the Wu family.
"This child's talent is terrifying, unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. A seventeen-year-old Ming Jin master, he may even have the potential to reach the elusive Hua Jin grandmaster realm in the future."
Wu Yu's voice silenced the entire martial arts hall.
"Instead of investigating where he learned it from, we should find a way to bring him into my Bajiquan school."
"Such a prodigy, if he could join my sect, it would be a great fortune for my Bajiquan sect."
Wu made a decision.
"I will go to Jincheng myself."
The room fell silent; no one objected.
The middle-aged man, brimming with vigor and vitality, gave a wry smile.
"Apart from you, Sect Master, and a few elders in seclusion, I'm afraid none of us are a match for that kid."
Inside the martial arts hall, everyone had their own thoughts.
Ma Cong, who was far away in a ward at Jincheng Hospital, was completely unaware of this.
......
In the ward, Ma Cong was idly cracking his wrists.
A few broken bones are really a minor problem for him.
Any medicinal herbs in the martial arts inheritance system, taken out at random, are priceless healing treasures.
A medicinal bath can stimulate blood circulation and help bone fragments grow back on their own.
To put it bluntly, he's now more robust than an ox.
But Zhou Xing doesn't think so.
She has taken a long leave of absence from school, citing that a relative of hers was in a car accident and needs someone to take care of them.
When Ma Cong asked her which relative she was, she blushed and said it was her distant cousin.
As a result, Ma Cong, this "distant cousin," was forced to lie in a hospital bed and receive VIP care.
"Come on, open your mouth and drink the soup."
Zhou Xing carried a thermos, scooped up a spoonful of golden chicken soup, carefully blew on it, and offered it to Ma Cong's lips.
That fragrance was incredibly strong.
Ma Cong originally wanted to say that he could move on his own and didn't need to be fed.
But faced with Zhou Xing's unyielding demeanor, she swallowed back the words that were on the tip of her tongue.
Fine, let's drink it.
A sip of chicken soup warms you as it slides down your esophagus into your stomach.
Ma Cong smacked his lips; the taste was indeed quite good.
Just then, there was a knock on the ward door.
It's the same Officer Chen from last time.
He saw Zhou Xing feeding the soup and a smile appeared on his face, but he quickly suppressed it.
"Ma, how's your recovery going?"
"Too good, you won't die," Ma Cong replied.
Officer Chen didn't care about his tone, pulled up a chair and sat down, getting straight to the point.
"Your case is closed."
"Sun Niu and others were found guilty of gang fighting, provoking trouble, and suspected of intentional homicide."
"You acted in self-defense and will not bear any criminal responsibility."
This result surprised Ma Cong.
His actions crippled dozens of people, and the leader, a blond-haired man, was knocked into a vegetative state by a single punch and is still lying in the ICU.
This can be considered legitimate self-defense?
He had assumed it would at least be an act of excessive self-defense.
Officer Chen noticed his confusion and explained, "Although your actions caused serious consequences, there are countless witnesses and complete video evidence to prove the cause and process. That bread truck was a deadly threat, and all your retaliation was within reasonable limits."
"So, legally, you're fine."
Ma Cong nodded, accepting the result with equanimity.
"However..." Officer Chen changed the subject.
"Young man, I'll take advantage of my age and say a few more words."
"Martial arts are about killing, not performing arts. Your skills are too flashy."
"In the future, if you encounter something, be patient and never ruin your precious youth because of a moment of impulsiveness."
Officer Chen's tone was very sincere; it was heartfelt advice.
"Thank you for the reminder, Officer Chen. I've got it." Ma Cong agreed on the surface.
But in his heart he didn't think so.
Isn't the purpose of practicing martial arts to follow one's heart and seek revenge?
If you have to keep a low profile when you encounter injustice, what's the point of practicing kung fu?
Unless one day I can be like those great heroes of ancient times, leaving without a trace after accomplishing my task, concealing my merits and fame.
Otherwise, when the time comes, we must take action.
After completing his task, Officer Chen gave a few more instructions and then got up to leave.
No sooner had he left than another visitor arrived.
He was an elderly man with gray hair, wearing a loose white martial arts uniform, with a ruddy complexion and a steady gait.
Ma Cong knew at a glance that this person was a trained fighter.
And he's an expert.
The old man's aura was comparable to that of the old boxing master Chen who taught him boxing. Although he hadn't reached the level of a Ming Jin master, dealing with seven or eight strong men would be a piece of cake for him.
"Um... Ma Cong, I'm going back now. I'll bring you food tomorrow."
Zhou Xing was very sensible and could tell that the old man was someone important and must have something important to discuss with Ma Cong.
She stood up, packed up the thermos, and waved to Ma Cong.
Ma Cong hummed in agreement.
Watching Zhou Xing's departing figure, he didn't have any particular thoughts in his mind.
He couldn't afford to think about matters of personal affection for the time being.
Ming Jin (明劲) is just the beginning of Chinese martial arts.
The hidden strength, the transformative strength, and even the legendary, ethereal and elusive Gang strength that followed—that was the pinnacle of martial arts he sought to pursue.
"Young friend, I apologize for coming uninvited."
The old man, with a loud voice, clasped his hands in a fist salute to Ma Cong.
"You're too kind, sir. Please have a seat," Ma Cong replied politely.
The old man sat down on a chair by the bed and introduced himself.
"I am Huang Tianxiang, the president of the Chancheng Martial Arts Association."
President of the Chancheng Martial Arts Association?
Ma Cong was genuinely surprised.
He had heard of the martial arts association president before he went to Chancheng to challenge the martial arts school.
This is no small figure; he is a powerful and influential person in Chancheng and even the entire Lingnan region, with countless high-ranking officials and wealthy individuals as his guests.
Why would someone like that make a special trip all the way to Jincheng to find a high school student like himself?
Huang Tianxiang seemed to see through his thoughts and spoke with a smile.
"Master Ma, there's no need to be surprised. I've come here today for two reasons. First, I want to make your acquaintance, young hero."
"A seventeen-year-old Master Ming Jin, such talent is something I have never heard of in my fifty years of martial arts practice."
"Secondly, I also want to tell you that the outcome with Superintendent Jincheng is one where you don't have to take responsibility; it's because I used some connections."
Ma Cong suddenly realized.
No wonder.
He said that things were handled too smoothly, almost abnormally smoothly.
It turns out there was a mastermind behind it all.
"Thank you for your help, Chairman Huang."
Ma Cong struggled to sit up in bed and solemnly cupped his hands in greeting to Huang Tianxiang.
"I, Ma Cong, will remember this favor. I will never refuse any request in the future."
"Oh, young master, you flatter me."
Huang Tianxiang waved his hand, "You've vindicated Chinese martial arts, and it's only right that we, as people of our generation, lend you a hand."