C16 His Ability to Break His Legs

The waiter served Zhao Huaiyuan a cup of tea before excusing himself. Du Xin had yet to arrive, prompting Zhao to stroll over to the window and gaze down at the dance floor below. Thanks to the triple-glazed soundproofing, the office was a bastion of silence. To Zhao, the dancers below appeared as if they were neurotically twitching—so absurdly foolish it bordered on comical.

He watched for a moment until the door clicked open. "Hehe, Young Master Zhao, your presence truly graces our humble establishment," came the greeting.

"Hehe, Mr. Xin, you're looking more vibrant than ever. Business must be booming, I presume?" Zhao replied, turning to greet Du Xin with a warm handshake.

After exchanging pleasantries, they settled onto the low stools by the tea table. Du Xin took it upon himself to brew some kung fu tea for Zhao. Despite his urban upbringing and having fought his way up the ranks through sheer tenacity, Du Xin's every gesture still betrayed a rough-hewn vigor, even after spending a fortune to master the art of tea.

Offering Zhao a cup with a smile, Du Xin said, "Young Master Zhao, we're all friends here, so feel free to speak your mind. If there's anything you need from me, just ask."

Zhao expressed his gratitude, then carefully lifted the glazed white porcelain cup, appreciating its aroma before savoring the tea in three sips—his manners impeccable.

Setting the cup down gently, Zhao let out a sigh. "Ah, Mr. Xin, I must confess, I've been duped recently, and it's been weighing on me."

"Really?" Du Xin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Someone in East Sea City dared to swindle Young Master Zhao? Who is this person? What's his background?"

"If only he had a notable background, I wouldn't be so vexed," Zhao said with a wry smile. "I've looked into it. He's an unwanted wild child, raised in an orphanage, with no connections to speak of—just a shadow to his name. It's a trivial matter, really. He just took advantage of my pride and conned me into buying him a meal."

You know me—I'm proud and have high standards. I only dine with those I deem worthy. To be swindled by that street kid for no good reason, it infuriates me."

Du Xin's eyes twinkled with mischief as he smiled. "What would you like me to do?"

"Round up a few toughs to give him a beating. Better yet, break one of his legs."

"That's an easy task. Consider it done."

"Thanks, Mr. Xin."

As Zhao Huaiyuan was about to rise, a thought struck him, and he quickly added, "I don't want it getting out that he was targeted for crossing me. Have your guys handle it off school grounds. And before they strike, find a pretext. Make sure it doesn't trace back to me."

Du Xin confidently thumped his chest, "Not a problem. I guarantee he'll never suspect you're behind his broken leg."

Zhao Huaiyuan nodded with a smile, pulled out his phone, and sent Du Xin Feng Manlou's profile. Standing up, he said, "Mr. Xin, I know you're a busy man, so I won't take up more of your time. I'll organize a grand dinner to treat you soon."

"Haha, think nothing of it. You're too courteous, Young Master Zhao," Du Xin replied, chuckling as he saw his guest out.

Once Zhao Huaiyuan had left the bar with Hsu Wei, the other four, and the two women, Du Xin tapped away on his phone.

Shortly thereafter, two menacing-looking men entered. "Boss, did you call for us?"

Du Xin forwarded the information to their phones and directed, "Check this guy's background. If it's all clear, break one of his legs outside the East Sea Institute. But make sure you have a solid reason, and keep our involvement under wraps."

The men nodded in agreement and exited the office.

With the room to himself, Du Xin booted up his computer, extracted the video of his conversation with Zhao Huaiyuan, and secured it on a rugged external hard drive.

Outside the bar, Zhao Huaiyuan observed Hsu Wei and the others, utterly enchanted by the two women. He instructed them to find a hotel room on their own while he drove back to his place.

As for the wild night that ensued for Hsu Wei and his party—well, that's another story.

At that moment, Feng Manlou in his dorm room powered up his computer, just like Du Xin had done.

He had snagged this secondhand computer for a few hundred yuan at a used goods market. It was still running on the XP operating system, but thankfully, aside from not being able to handle gaming, it functioned well for everyday use.

He connected his phone to the computer with a data cable.

"Ding~"

The device was successfully connected.

He pulled out a USB drive and plugged it into the port, copying the video of himself and Zhao Huaiyuan on the rooftop. Then, he shut down the computer, retrieved a small plastic bag from the drawer, and climbed back up to his bunk.

"What's wrong? Is your wound really painful?" Zhou Sihai, groggy with sleep, mumbled, "If it hurts that much, let us know, and we'll take you to the hospital."

"No, I just drank too much water and needed to pee," Feng Manlou replied.

Zhou Sihai grunted a response and rolled over to resume his slumber.

Feng Manlou waited a bit to ensure everyone was deeply asleep before he silently got up from his bed, reached up to unscrew the dust cover where the ceiling fan met the roof, and stashed the USB drive inside the plastic bag in the cover before screwing it back in place.

With everything secured, he breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He couldn't be certain whether Zhao Huaiyuan would send someone to pilfer his phone or even his computer. It was always best to err on the side of caution.

Awakened by his alarm the next morning, Feng Manlou sat up and rubbed his face, noticing the water streaks on the balcony's stainless steel railing.

Such was the unpredictability of summer, with its sudden downpours that started and stopped without warning, always catching one off guard.

From the balcony came a loud query, "Who's turn is it to run today?"

Upon hearing it was his turn, Feng Manlou gave his behind a scratch and settled back into a deep sleep.

After freshening up, Feng Manlou headed downstairs, magnetic card in hand. As soon as he stepped onto the track, he heard someone calling from behind.

"Mr. Feng, Mr. Feng!"

The voice was familiar. He turned to find Jiang Gongyin, the one who had sent Lu Feng flying with a kick the day before, and the vice president of the Martial Inheriting Society.

"Oh, it's Senior Brother Jiang. What a coincidence to run into you here. Good morning."

"Good morning."

Jiang Gongyin, drenched in sweat, chuckled and said, "This isn't just a chance encounter; I was actually waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" Feng Manlou stretched, warming up. "Is something the matter?"

"We can talk as we run."

They began jogging together, gradually picking up the pace. After three laps, Feng Manlou was amazed to realize his stamina had indeed improved. He could run 1200 meters without slowing down and only feel slightly winded.

It appeared the system truly could enhance physical fitness. It wasn't just talk.

With that in mind, he decided to go for six laps today.

"Senior, what did you want to see me about?"

"Junior, I actually have a question for you."

"What's the question? You're not going to tell me you've fallen for me, are you?"

"Cut it out, I'm being serious. Do you like traditional martial arts?"

"Huh? You waited for me on the track just to ask that?" Feng Manlou was somewhat at a loss for words.

"Absolutely!" Jiang Gongyin said earnestly, "It's a very serious question, and I need a serious answer from you!"

"Well... if you're looking for a serious answer," Feng Manlou recalled how he had taken down Liuzi and Liangzi with just the Five-step Fist and nodded with gravity, "I do like it. Martial Inheriting is not only a fine aspect of C Country's cultural heritage, but it also builds physical strength and provides self-defense. I believe it's something everyone should learn."

"Does that mean you're willing to join the Martial Inheriting Society?!" Jiang Gongyin was visibly thrilled.

"Join the Martial Inheriting Society?" Feng Manlou paused, his thoughts racing. This senior's leap from discussing martial arts to joining the society was unexpected.

"Yes, join the Martial Inheriting Society!"

Jiang Gongyin's pitch could have rivaled that of any seasoned marketer, "In our society, we have experts in Long Fist, Tai Chi, and Southern Fist. Joining the Martial Inheriting Society will definitely take your martial arts to the next level!"

"Eh..."

Feng Manlou mused, 'Isn't this sales pitch a tad too aggressive? Is the Martial Inheriting Society really that desperate for members?'