On the karate-specific training ground.
Two figures stand facing each other.
Fang Cheng holds a red rectangular kicking target in his hands.
Coach Shen stands three meters away, practicing kicking and hip-twisting movements.
Around them is a crowd of onlookers who are not afraid of causing a stir.
Coach Shen said he wanted to test Fang Cheng's ability to take hits.
Instead of using elite students for the assessment as usual, he took on the role of the striker himself, showing great importance.
The head coach of a department actually stepping into the fray made the assessment all the more eye-catching.
Xu Maochai suddenly walked up to Fang Cheng and whispered:
"Shen Haoming practices Songtao Hall Style, a black belt third dan level, his leg techniques are as heavy as mine, and he likes to launch stealth attacks."
"You need to be careful, plant your stance firmly in advance."
Having been warned by Xu Maochai, Fang Cheng nodded slightly to show he understood.
Shen Haoming stood opposite, glancing over with a teasing look in his eyes.
He is the head coach of the karate department and also a close friend and confidant of Manager Li.
Because Fang Cheng refused Manager Li's offer and chose to join forces with Xu Maochai, with whom Li often clashed, it caused considerable displeasure between the two parties.
This sparring assessment happened to run right into the line of fire, and of course, it wouldn't let him off easily.
Shen Haoming's intention in stepping in himself was to make Fang Cheng suffer.
Ideally, he wanted to kick and cause him internal injury, which would allow him to vent frustration on behalf of Manager Li and also naturally provide a reason to reject the application.
Although Fang Cheng had demonstrated physical abilities beyond those of ordinary people through the push-up test, being a sparring partner is not all about having good physical strength.
Shen Haoming, who had won the karate world championship, had been retired for many years, but his combat prowess had not diminished much.
To deal with such an outsider, wouldn't it be a piece of cake?
Thinking this, Shen Haoming immediately narrowed his gaze, his eyes turning sharp and focused.
He then assumed the Songtao Hall Style's four-directional combat stance, facing Fang Cheng sideways, his right foot's Tiger Claw rolling on the floor.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready—"
Fang Cheng had just nodded when he suddenly saw a figure charging towards him like a swift wind.
As they were speaking, Shen Haoming had already twisted his waist, lifted his foot, and gathered momentum for launch.
He sprinted forward a few steps, then leveraging the force from his right foot pushing off the ground, his body soared into the air with a flying kick.
Among the most powerful leg techniques in karate are the Three Moon Kick, Sacrifice Kick, and others.
But speaking of the leg technique with the greatest impact force, the Flying Side Kick stands unmatched.
Also known as the aerial sidekick in Sanda!
The fact that he used his killer move right off the bat meant he really did regard Fang Cheng as an immobile human-shaped target.
Fang Cheng clenched his hands into fists, holding onto the kicking target firmly, raising it above his chest.
Bang!
Even with the cushioning, the tremendous force still penetrated the sponge filling, reaching his arms, shoulders, and even his chest and internal organs.
Fang Cheng's body shook, and he quickly took a half step back.
This move slightly dissipated the impact's energy, withstanding the fiercely powerful flying kick.
It also showcased the solidity and stability of his lower body.
Hundreds of deep squats each day weren't for nothing!
Fang Cheng bore the brunt of the kick, his gaze swiftly scanning.
He saw Shen Haoming's feet touch down, full of openings and flaws.
In an instant, he wanted to throw away the kicking target, grab Shen's waist and legs, and give him a severe fall.
But then, Fang Cheng curbed that impulsive thought.
Learning to box starts with learning to take hits, and being a sparring partner is no exception.
Shen Haoming quickly recomposed himself and adjusted his footsteps.
Seeing that Fang Cheng hadn't been sent flying by his heavy kick, he frowned, ready to continue his onslaught.
At this moment, a wave of surprised questioning voices arose from the sidelines.
"Old Shen, just how much strength did you put into that kick?"
"Did you not have enough to eat? With all that show, that's it? Just like that?"
The other coaches suddenly surged forward, surrounding the two to express their opinions.
Seeing Shen Haoming unleash even an aerial kick, Fang Cheng still appeared composed and calm.
They couldn't help but wonder if this old chap was deliberately taking it easy and cheating.
Or maybe he was just showing off his graceful and beautiful leg techniques in front of the crowd.
Shen Haoming took a deep breath, focusing intently on Fang Cheng.
Then, smiling, he said:
"Young man, you're pretty good, able to withstand half of my power."
The other coaches instantly realized and nodded in agreement, praising a few words.
Saying that Shen Haoming could kick a bowl-thick training wooden pile in half, being able to withstand half his power with protective gear, the performance could already be considered excellent.
Even among professional fighters, he would definitely be above average.
Fang Cheng was somewhat surprised upon hearing this.
If just half of the power was this strong, if he really used his full strength, he might really get kicked flying.
Top professional fighters are terrifying like this...
Fang Cheng took in a small breath of cool air, and his blood surged even more with excitement.
The look he gave Shen Haoming was so intense that it made him involuntarily turn his head to avoid the burning gaze.
"Have I passed the assessment now?"
An especially talent-appreciating coach spoke up for Fang Cheng.
"Should we test the power of his punch? There's a boxing strength tester over there."
Another skinny, dark-skinned Muay Thai coach seemed to be unsatisfied.
Xu Maochai immediately retorted:
"He's not becoming a boxer, why test these things?"
"Old Xu, you are wrong there."
Coach Hu suddenly interjected: "With Fang Cheng's physical condition, he could easily make it in professional competitions."
Xu Maochai asked indifferently: "Are you prepared to sponsor his training?"
Coach Hu responded with an embarrassed smile:
"If Fang Cheng were a bit younger, maybe, but now I think it's quite suitable for him to be a sparring partner."
Professional competitions aren't as simple as just signing up, going on stage to beat a fighter, and earning a prize.
The upfront preparation costs include hiring professional coaches, strength and conditioning coaches, sparring partners, nutritionists, physiotherapists, and other team staff salaries, along with daily training equipment and venue rental fees.
On top of that, one must purchase a high level of health insurance to cover potential accidental injuries during matches.
Otherwise, one wouldn't even be eligible to register or sign up for competition.
To be honest, every famous fighter can be considered a walking equivalent weight in gold.
Since the coaching team unanimously approved of Fang Cheng's performance.
Shen Haoming didn't continue to be deliberately contrarian or difficult.
He promptly signed his name on the HR agreement.
Those who were watching dispersed with a bit of discussion.
Those waiting for class continued to wait, those training for physical fitness continued to train.
Xu Maochai patted Fang Cheng on the shoulder, encouraging him with a few words before leaving.
Coaches left one after another.
Fang Cheng also headed towards the changing room, escorted by several colleagues from the logistics department.
His body was slightly sweaty, having no lessons for the time being, so he could take a shower and relax.
On the karate department floor.
Only Shen Haoming was left standing there, not moving for a long while.
Seeing everyone walking away, he suddenly twisted his right foot quickly, his mouth contorting, and he inhaled a sharp breath of cool air.
"Hiss—"
As though he had stepped on a nail, Shen Haoming's face showed bitterness.
That flying side kick a moment ago, while showy and dashing.
But when the kick hit the kick target, it felt like he struck a lump of iron hidden inside the shock-absorbing layer.
If it weren't for maintaining composure as a master, the pain almost made him shout out.
"This kid's fists, are they not made of flesh?"
Shen Haoming was speechless.
With his many years of fighting experience, without looking down in detail, his foot was undoubtedly bruised.