"Zhou Quan, you little bastard, I asked you to fill the water tank, but you forgot to remember to eat and not take food!"
"Boom!"
The door of the woodshed was kicked open, and the housekeeper walked in with a dark face, lifted up the bedding, and when he saw, there was no one on the bed.
"Hey, little brat."
Seeing that Zhou Quan was not in the room, the steward was stunned for a moment. This kid didn't sleep in the middle of the night. Where did he go?
In doubt, the steward suddenly remembered something, turned around and walked out of the woodshed, and walked toward the backyard along the inconspicuous corner path.
Walk to a courtyard at the end of the martial arts hall.
The yard was pitch dark. Judging from the dilapidated state of the doors and windows, it could be seen that the yard had been abandoned for a long time.
The steward glanced at the opened courtyard door, and his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
Those triangular eyes suddenly became sharp. From the corner of his eye, he saw a pile of firewood and stepped forward to pick up a stick.
The stick was made of solid wood, and the heavy weight in his hand made the steward's anger intensify in vain.
"Okay, Zhou Quan, if you don't take the road to heaven, there is no way to hell to break in. You are seeking death on your own, but no wonder I am so cruel."
The steward took a deep breath and muttered to himself.
I quietly opened the door and saw that the room was empty, with not a single piece of furniture inside.
The steward stretched out his hand and pulled it on the ground.
"Kakaka..."
A secret door actually rose up from the ground. When you look at the fire below, you can still vaguely hear the sound of boxing practice.
The steward sneered when he saw this. This was a privately built dungeon built by the martial arts school. The people imprisoned in it were the traitors of the martial arts school. The person responsible for delivering food to the traitors during this period was Zhou Quan.
So seeing that Zhou Quan was not in the room, the steward thought about it and concluded that this boy was probably in this place.
He practices boxing in private and colludes with traitors. Even if he beats people to death, he can't be blamed.
Thinking of the steward, he crept down and stood in the corner, tilting his head and looking inside.
Under the dim light, an old man and a young man.
The old man sat cross-legged on the straw mat, his shoulders were chained with lute bones, his hair was disheveled, his face was covered with mud, but his eyes were bright and bright.
"An own goal!"
Hearing this, the young man took a big step forward with his left foot, bent his left leg into a half-squat, straightened his right leg and straightened his knee, forming a left lunge. He turned his body to the left, straightened his right arm and swung it to the left, and then opened his fists left and right, making a sound.
Sound.
"good!"
Seeing this, the old man slapped his thigh: "Ziwu beat, Dahong beat, turn around, three unique palms..."
Upon hearing this, the boy's moves changed, his hands were like hammers, he stepped forward, jumped up at the waist, turned around and punched three more times in the air.
The steward, who was secretly standing in the corner watching, his eyes widened at this time.
There was a sudden storm in my heart.
He has been in charge of the boxing gym for so many years. It is impossible to say that he does not have some real kung fu, but it is not necessarily true how good his kung fu is.
But the eyesight is always the same.
Zhou Quan was able to do this without blushing or out of breath, and he was as precise as any boxer who had been practicing in the martial arts hall for several years.
"This kid can really practice martial arts?"
The steward lowered his head and thought, "It's impossible. This guy is very weak. He eats so poorly every day and doesn't have a few drops of oil and water for a month. How can he have the energy to practice martial arts?"
The so-called poor in literature and rich in military affairs.
This has been an unchanging truth from ancient times to the present.
If you can't eat meat, and you don't have the help of secret medicines to build muscles and bones, you won't be able to pass this level.
There are quite a few people who fail to master kung fu in the end and become crippled by the training.
In fact, let alone ancient times, it is the same in modern times.
Shooting is not allowed in China, but rich people can go abroad for fun. A bullet costs two thousand yuan, and they can also take you hunting. This is something that poor people cannot afford.
"OK."
The old man watched Zhou Quan finish a set of punches, patted his thigh and said: "The last move is just the center cannon. If you let me out, I will pass it on to you."
When Zhou Quan heard this and was about to say something, his ears twitched and he noticed the sound of breaking wind behind him, so he hurriedly stepped aside.
After seeing the steward's face clearly from the corner of his eye, his heart moved, he grabbed his hands back, and used a move from Hong Fist to hold the moon in his arms.
But the steward did not hide. Instead, he rushed forward and hit Zhou Quan's face with his elbow. Zhou Quan unconsciously leaned back, but at the same time he kicked the steward in the face.
"Hehe, I'm still a beginner after all. It's really hard for you to practice for a few more years."
The steward wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, suddenly raised his left foot, and kicked Zhou Quan's lower abdomen with a swallow, and then a sharp whip leg made a harsh whistling sound in the air!
Seeing this, Zhou Quan quickly raised his hands to parry, and the thin man was immediately kicked back and forth.
"Don't you want to learn the gravity cannon? I'll teach you!"
Seeing Zhou Quan lose his center of gravity, the steward's eyes showed a cold light, he stepped forward with his left foot, raised his hand and grabbed Zhou Quan's wrist, rotated his waist internally, and drew back his other fist.
"See clearly, the shoulders and legs are in line, the waist is like a bow, the punch cannot be fully discharged, and the strength can penetrate the mountain!"
The manager was sure of victory, and without hesitation, he struck Zhou Quan directly in the chest with a sideways punch from his shoulder straps and waist strength.
This punch was very powerful. I am not very good at it, and I have slacked off a lot over the years, but I can still kill a child with one punch.
only……
Is he really a child??
"boom!!!"
The fist hit Gao Zhuo's chest, and Gao Zhuo's body trembled slightly.
He raised his head and looked at the steward quietly with his eyes.
"you!!"
The steward was startled, looking at those clear black and white eyes, which were cold, dull, and without even a trace of human emotion. He suddenly panicked. Those eyes were not what a child should have.
Even the old owner has never had such a terrifying look.
He was afraid.
"You little bastard!"
As he spoke, he twisted hard, and the palm holding Gao Zhuo's wrist suddenly twisted downwards. But at this moment, the thin and thin palm turned out to be like a diamond. When he broke it with force, the palm did not move at all.
"Thank you, my mission is completed."
A smile gradually appeared on Gao Zhuo's face, and his fingers slowly came together.
This process was very slow, and the steward was still struggling at first, but soon found that he couldn't even pull his hand out. This is not the strength that a person should have at all.
"You!! What on earth are you!!"
What frightened him even more was that his fingers had begun to hurt slightly, and in front of him, Zhou Quan, whom he was familiar with, was always looking at him expressionlessly.
"Let go! Let go!!!"
The intense fear and pain on his fingers made the steward even more crazy, but no matter whether he hit him with his fists or kicked him, Zhou Quan in front of him didn't even move his eyebrows.
Seeing this, the steward picked up the stick in his hand, rounded it up and hit Gao Zhuo on the head.
"Bang bang bang bang!!"
I don’t know how many times he was hit. Gao Zhuo’s forehead was covered with sawdust, but other than that, there were no wounds left.
His fingers were still slowly moving closer.
"Click!"
The sound of bones breaking caused the steward's body to tremble violently, and he let out painful wails and calls for help.
Unfortunately, when this cell was first built, it was thought that it might disturb the neighbors.
Therefore, in order to ensure the sleep quality of the neighbors, thick stone slabs were installed on the surrounding walls. Not to mention his screams, even if he danced in the square here, there would never be any sound outside.
"Ah!! Zhou Quan, I was wrong, let go!!"
The pain in his fingers caused the steward to kneel on the ground and beg loudly.
But the person in front of him was not Zhou Quan. The Zhou Quan whom they bullied as a slave was already dead.
When the task was completed, he was completely dead.
The person in front of him now is Gao Zhuo, a ruthless player.
Facing the steward's nearly collapsed plea, Gao Zhuo finally raised the corners of his mouth slightly: "Don't worry, I won't kill you!"
As he said this, Gao Zhuo let go of his hand.
But at the same time, three slender silver needles were clamped in the palm of the hand and aimed at the steward's head.
"Puff puff!"
Three silver needles penetrated the steward's head.
The steward's pupils tightened, and the fearful expression on his face gradually relaxed. With Gao Zhuo's finger slightly prodding, he stood up with a numb expression.
"Come on, come with me to meet our old owner."
Gao Zhuo urged the steward to go out.
"Hey, Xiao Zhou..."
The old man behind him was stunned for a second, and then he hurriedly called him to let him go out together.
However, before he could finish his sentence, when the old man saw the bloody murderous aura in Gao Zhuo's eyes, he immediately swallowed back half of what he said, his tongue seemed to be tied up, and he came out tremblingly.
Three words: "You walk slowly."
Early the next morning.
As soon as it dawned, the iron gate of Dashilan had already been opened. The shopkeepers on the street came out, removed the door panels, cleaned, and started a new day of life.
"Fourth child, why do I always feel like... something is wrong?"
The shopkeeper of the grocery store shook his neck and walked slowly downstairs, holding a purple clay pot in his hand.
When the waiter heard this, he scratched his head and said, "Yes, I always feel that there is something wrong with it."
After saying that, he patted his head: "Hey, by the way, why didn't you hear the morning training at the Hong Family Boxing Gym today??"
Being reminded by the waiter, the shopkeeper immediately stamped his foot: "Oh, yes, I hear them humming and haha every day when they practice boxing in the morning, but today they suddenly stopped. I'm still a little used to it."
Normally, before dawn, the boxing gym has already started morning training. Therefore, the first thing the owners of several shops around the boxing gym do when they get up in the morning is to greet the eighteen generations of ancestors of the boxing gym.
Of course, I only dared to curse a few words in bed, after all, being a sandbag for others is not a cost-effective business.
It was rare that I got up early today, and suddenly I couldn't hear the usual sounds of boxing practice, which inevitably made these shopkeepers feel cursed.
"You pack it up and I'll go take a look."
Seeing that the door of the Hong Family Boxing Gym was still open, the shopkeeper walked up to the door with a precious purple clay pot in his hand. He wanted to see what the boxing gym was doing today. Why were they not training? Are everyone dead?
As a result, as soon as he walked to the door, a strong smell of blood came out. The shopkeeper looked at the boxer lying neatly on the ground in the yard, with the purple clay pot in his hand.
It fell to the ground with a "bang" sound.
The sound of the purple clay pot breaking caused the only steward standing in the courtyard to slowly turn around. He was covered in blood and holding a big knife in his hand. He bared his teeth and smiled at the shopkeeper: "Come to practice boxing, come in quickly.
