Chapter 24 Introduction to Sanshou

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[Free Combat lv0（0/100）]

Seeing the newly unlocked skill entry on the panel, Fang Cheng finally confirmed a fact.

He had indeed mastered the "Free Combat" skill.

It was a pleasant surprise, yet somewhat expected.

Originally, he had only intended to practice various leg and throw techniques in combat out of curiosity.

It is known that Free Combat includes kicking, punching, throwing, and grappling as its four techniques.

Fang Cheng's punching had already reached Expert Level.

His leg techniques and throws, after being tested in real combat tonight, were also enough to be considered beginner level.

Only grappling eluded him, as it remained unmastered.

Since it's banned in professional matches, coaches didn't pay much attention to it, and he only had a brief introduction to it during an Anti-wolf Techniques lesson.

Now, Fang Cheng had proven a system rule with his own actions.

To unlock a complete skill, it's not necessary to master all the fundamental techniques it encompasses.

When some of the basic techniques reach an exceptionally outstanding level, the entire skill can still be unlocked.

Fang Cheng thought to himself that with his current leg techniques and throws, he could easily contend with professional fighters.

If not for the lacking technique, the "beginner" appraisal would actually be quite low.

Thinking of this, and looking at the "experience babies" crying on the ground, a thought couldn't help but emerge in Fang Cheng's mind:

"Maybe... I should play with them a little longer?"

"Ah——————"

"Brother Fei, brothers, I'm coming!"

Just then, another hooligan emerged from the crowd with a beer bottle in hand.

He stared blankly at the scene, and seeing his good brothers scattered on the ground, his mouth agape in shock.

With a clatter, the beer bottle dropped from his hand and shattered.

He then turned tail and ran without hesitation, not even caring about the safety of his own boss.

Brother Fei was lying on the ground, his face as dirty as if he had eaten dirt.

Just a moment ago, Fang Cheng had delivered a reverse sidekick, sending one of the underlings flying and hitting several bystanders who were enjoying the show.

He was one of those unfortunate 'collateral damage' recipients.

Under the peculiar scrutiny of Fang Cheng's gaze, his heart immediately started pounding.

He couldn't help but guess if this expert who could fight against ten men had that kind of predilection.

"We... we admit defeat!"

"We're all from the Jianghu, we'll have to face each other sooner or later, there's no need to take things too far..."

He rambled on, and between his words, there was only one meaning: begging for peace.

Fang Cheng suddenly approached, raising his hand as if to slap him.

Brother Fei, frightened, shrank his head and tried to scramble to his feet, his legs flailing helplessly.

As he looked around in panic, searching for an escape route,

Fang Cheng merely extended his hand, pulling him up, then patted the dust off his body and asked:

"Do you know Ma Donghe?"

Brother Fei was stunned for a moment before nodding repeatedly:

"I know, I know, Brother Ma is quite a figure around Jiangbei, who doesn't know him?"

The so-called "figure" refers to someone in Jianghu with a loud reputation and considerable influence.

Fang Cheng gave a faint smile, then added:

"I've traded punches with him a few times; we're sparring partners, you could say."

"Ah?"

Brother Fei was greatly surprised and then showed due respect:

"Respectable master, so you know Brother Ma. That's... that's like a flood hitting the Dragon King Temple..."

Hearing Fang Cheng say this, the street boss not only calmed his anger but also eagerly began to chat with Fang Cheng.

He couldn't stop talking about Ma Donghe's heroic tales of punching the West Mountain and kicking Jiangdong, claiming him as his idol.

It seemed as though the two were close.

Fang Cheng listened and nodded, then took out a hundred-yuan note from his pocket and handed it over.

"Sorry about earlier, I went a bit too far. Take this for your brothers to get treated for their injuries."

Brother Fei was once again stunned.

"This..."

He sneaked a peek at Fang Cheng, seeing a calm demeanor that implied no room for refusal.

So, he hurriedly took it with both hands.

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"Thank you, thank you, esteemed master, you are really too kind!"

Don't mention that the medical fees were pitifully small, such a gesture of goodwill obviously means giving face to Brother Fei!

Seeing the money being accepted, Fang Cheng then pointed towards Zhou Xiumei who was standing not far away.

"This is my sister; take care of her in the future."

"Ha-ha, no problem, it was all just a misunderstanding before."

Brother Fei seemed to have completely adjusted his attitude and immediately laughed heartily:

"My brother's sister is my sister, as long as I, A-Fei, am at North Corner Night Market for a day, nobody will dare to bully her."

He looked rather smug, almost completely forgetting the pain of his fractured wrist.

Being recognized by a high-skilled master of almost the same level as Ma Donghe was an honor; no harm, no foul.

This made him, who mixed in the Jianghu, feel no shame, but rather it brought him glory.

In the midst of conversation, they were on friendly terms, and he almost insisted on pulling Fang Cheng to have a drink and chat, short of shamelessly swearing brotherhood.

Fang Cheng declined with a smile.

After being refused several times, Brother Fei finally left reluctantly with a group of limping and whining underlings to a nearby clinic for treatment.

However, halfway there, he suddenly remembered that he didn't even know the other person's name…

The night market was still noisy.

The crowd of onlookers was still pointing and discussing.

They saw such an exciting fight, one against ten, and each of them was excited, taking it as a topic of conversation.

The way they looked at Fang Cheng was like seeing a Kung Fu movie star.

If not for fear of also being beaten, they would have probably swarmed up to ask for a photo to commemorate the moment.

"Brother Cheng, are you hurt? Let me check, do you need to apply some medicinal alcohol…"

Seeing those hoodlums finally retreat, Zhou Xiumei's anxious heart finally settled down.

She immediately ran up, gently grasping Fang Cheng's right arm which was just used to block a stool, intending to roll up his sleeve and check his injuries.

Fang Cheng withdrew his hand, signaling her with his eyes:

"Even if we need to check for injuries, we can't do it in a place like this."

Feeling the many gazes around them, Zhou Xiumei couldn't help but blush and quickly let go of her slender fingers.

The two then looked towards the stall.

They noticed that the handicrafts displayed on the carpet were already in complete disarray and a mess.

Some of them were even trampled and crushed, turning into a pile of broken parts.

"Ah, no!"

Zhou Xiumei immediately exclaimed, hurried over in small steps, and crouched down.

While picking out the intact surviving items, her heart was filled with agony, and she couldn't stop muttering:

"What should I do now…"

Her fair melon seed-shaped face was tightly furrowed, her eyes faintly shimmering with tears.

Fang Cheng also crouched down beside her to help clean up, casually asking:

"Why didn't you make it clear who you were, that you're the daughter of Inspector Zhou Yongnian? Those thugs should not dare to bother you."

Zhou Xiumei paused for a moment upon hearing this and apologized softly after a brief silence:

"I'm sorry, for causing you trouble…"

"It's me who caused you trouble."

Seeing this, Fang Cheng changed the subject to comfort her:

"Don't worry, those hoodlums won't come to harass you anymore."

The handicrafts for sale were more than half destroyed, and there were still onlookers watching for fun, so obviously, the business couldn't continue.

Zhou Xiumei decided to close up shop early for the night.

Within a few minutes, all the goods were packed up and placed in a hand-cart parked nearby.

"Let's go."

Fang Cheng got on the driver's seat of the hand-cart directly, looking at Zhou Xiumei, indicating her to sit in the back.

"Brother Cheng, let me do it."

Zhou Xiumei said in a low voice, with pursed lips.

Fang Cheng smiled slightly:

"I exercise every day now, and I weigh over 160, are you sure you can still carry me like before?"

Zhou Xiumei looked down, compared her delicate figure, and immediately deflated, obediently sitting in the cart.

With the main character leaving, the audience also lost interest and gradually dispersed, each going about their own business.

Among the crowd, there was a middle-aged man around fifty years old, with a slight limp.

He was holding a bag of skewers in his left hand and a can of bottled liquor in his right.

His gaze rested on the figure riding away in the distance and was thoughtful.