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When Guo Rundong spoke in a blend of English, French, and Spanish, Zhang Yuvwei's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Rundong, was that a poem you recited? I only caught the English part; were the rest French and Spanish? It sounded so romantic and rhythmic!"
Guo Rundong smiled. "I was reciting a love poem in English, French, and Spanish."
"Reciting a poem in three languages is incredibly romantic," Zhang Yuvwei exclaimed. "Lan, what did you think of Rundong's recitation?"
"Uh... it was alright, I guess. I only understood the English," Xia Lan replied with a forced smile, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
To recite a love poem in English, French, and Spanish upon first meeting someone? This guy was either full of himself or a complete oddball with no social grace.
"Mr. Feng, how did you find my translation?" Guo Rundong turned to Feng Manlou, his chin tilted up slightly in a show of pride.
"I don't understand it," Feng Manlou responded bluntly, turning his attention back to the cake on the table.
"You don't understand?" Zhang Yuvwei and Guo Rundong exchanged a look of feigned astonishment.
"That's unexpected. Every student at East Medical University is exceptional. Even if you don't get the French and Spanish, you should at least grasp the English," Zhang Yuvwei said, her lips curling into a smug smile.
She was convinced; this guy was certainly not from East Medical University. With his unimpressive demeanor, he probably wasn't even an undergraduate.
"Let's move on to something else..." Xia Lan started, trying to spare Feng Manlou any embarrassment, but he cut her off.
"I'm a community college student; I don't understand foreign languages," Feng Manlou retorted. "Do you know how to prepare financial statements?"
"We're not aiming to be accountants, so why would we need to know that?" Guo Rundong chuckled.
"Hmph, clueless," Feng Manlou scoffed. "Who says only accountants work with financial statements? But you do have a point. I'm not planning to become a translator, so why should I need to know other languages?"
After Feng Manlou finished his cake, he stood up and placed the last flyer beside Xia Lan. "I'm done eating, so I'll head out now. This is a flyer for a foreign language training center that offers courses in English, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese, and Korean. There are many ways to learn a foreign language; making friends isn't the only option, and it can be more expensive." With that, he downed his milk tea and left.
He figured they'd listen if they wanted to; if not, no skin off his back. He had a system to study and no time to waste on a pointless argument with two disagreeable old men.
Once downstairs, the cashier noticed Feng Manlou was alone. He glanced up the stairs and muttered under his breath, "Damn, another one who's all about the money." He opened the cash register, took out twenty-five yuan, and placed it on the counter.
"Uncle, what's this about?" Feng Manlou was puzzled.
"I'm only charging you for your share. I might as well have thrown the other portion to the dogs," the cashier said consolingly. "Don't lose heart. Not every woman is after money over people. You'll find a good one in time."
"Uh..." Feng Manlou took the money and quirked an eyebrow at the cashier. "Uncle, it sounds like you've got some stories."
"Hey, everyone's been young once. Plus, running a milk tea shop in a college town means I see plenty of students like you, all fresh to the world of romance."
Seeing that the cashier didn't want to dwell on the past, Feng Manlou chuckled, waved goodbye, and said, "Next time I'm craving milk tea, I'll be sure to come back here for the genuine taste."
"That's the spirit! Next time, I'll give you a 20% discount!"
After he left the milk tea shop, Feng Manlou sent a photo of himself distributing flyers to Boss Zhao of the advertising company. Quickly, he received a transfer of 150 yuan for his labor.
Feng Manlou lingered a bit longer, but when Xia Lan didn't come down to chase after him, he scoffed at himself, thinking, 'Feng Manlou, give it up. You're not some handsome, wealthy heir. Why would she ditch her roommate to chase you? Better to get moving. Sticking around will only make you look more foolish.'
Feng Manlou hurried away from the snack street, swiftly unlocking his bike and mounting it in one fluid motion.
Under the oppressive, dark night sky, he pedaled furiously at a breakneck speed of 20 kilometers per hour, pushing himself until his legs gave out before collapsing back onto the seat.
Sighing, he wondered what his predecessor was thinking. Knowing he had no one to rely on, yet still not putting effort into his studies, causing me to lose face time and time again.
After covering two kilometers, Feng Manlou reached a deserted construction site with half-finished teaching buildings flanking the road.
The workers had clocked out, leaving the streets and buildings eerily quiet and deserted. Dust-covered streetlights cast a feeble glow on the ground, making the high-rises wrapped in green safety nets look like haunting, ghostly towers.
The mountain bike's wheels crunched over the gritty asphalt, the sound of gravel under tire filling the silence.
For some reason, Feng Manlou felt a sudden surge of panic and decided to speed through this stretch of road. Then, a menacing voice echoed from behind.
"Hey, flyer boy, stop right there!"
It was the thief from the snack street; he recognized the voice!
Feng Manlou's heart raced with fear as he stood up and pedaled like mad, his speed rocketing from 12 kilometers per hour to 30 in an instant.
"Stop? Yeah right, as if I've lost my mind!"
If he could just make it another two or three kilometers, he'd reach the back entrance of East Medical University. Even with only one security guard on duty, it would be enough to deter the thief.
"Beep~ Beep~ Beep~"
"Run, go ahead and run! I don't believe your bike can outrun my motorcycle!"
The jerk actually had a motorbike!
The blaring of the motorcycle's horn obliterated Feng Manlou's escape plan. His old mountain bike was no match for a motorcycle. With no chance of outrunning his pursuer and the risk of a sneak attack from behind, he braced for confrontation.
He slammed on the brakes, the front wheel screeching to a halt, and with a swift twist of his legs, the rear wheel of the bike lifted and skidded, positioning the bike sideways across the road.
Feng Manlou kicked down the kickstand and leaped onto his bike, positioning it between himself and the thief. He fumbled for his phone to dial for the police.
It's always a good idea to call the police in a dangerous situation!
He pressed the button, but the screen stayed dark. Pressing it again yielded the same result.
Feng Manlou's anxiety spiked.
"Damn it, it had 40% battery just a moment ago, and now it's dead?"
"Even a knockoff phone from three years ago shouldn't drain this fast!"
As the lights flickered, the motorcycle came to a halt. A muscular man of average height dismounted from behind the thief.
"Wow, you've actually got the guts to stop! That's pretty brave!"
The man kicked the bike over, and the chilling clang of metal striking the pavement echoed through the deserted street.
"What do you think you're doing?! Let me remind you, assaulting someone is a crime. If you don't fancy a prison sentence, I'd advise against any foolishness," Feng Manlou said, stepping back with a quiver in his voice.
Liangzi parked his bike and approached, chuckling, "Liuzi, looks like we've got ourselves a legal expert. What should we do? I'm shaking in my boots!"
"Me too, I'm terrified."
Liuzi stepped over the bike's crossbar to face Feng Manlou, raised the iron rod without a word, and swung it menacingly.
Feng Manlou, in a panic, raised his arms to shield his head, but instead of the expected blow, he felt a sharp kick to his stomach from Liuzi.
"Ouch!"
Pain shot through Feng Manlou's abdomen, leaving him breathless. He dropped his phone and stumbled backward, collapsing onto the ground.
"You dare to use the threat of jail against me? I didn't get into this life expecting to have a peaceful old age," Liuzi sneered. "You had the nerve to threaten me? I was just going to slap you around, but now, hmph, I might just beat you half to death!"
"Liuzi, a beating is enough. Let's not escalate this any further!" Liangzi interjected, seeing Liuzi's intent to inflict serious harm, and quickly cautioned him.
"Don't worry, I've got this." Liuzi shrugged off the grip and kept moving forward.
As Liuzi drew nearer, Feng Manlou scrambled to his feet, clutching his stomach and cursing inwardly.
I'm nearly getting killed here, and this damn system isn't lifting a finger to help me!
Then, another light curtain materialized before him.
[You have mastered the Five-step Fist Technique. Why not throw a punch?]
Throw a punch, my ass! The guy's huge, and I haven't practiced martial arts in my entire life, let alone twice over. Wait a minute... why am I not punching?
Didn't I just activate the Five-step Fist cheat? Why am I not fighting back?
As Liuzi advanced and raised his iron rod once more, Feng Manlou knew it was going to hit him. Without overthinking, he silently commanded himself: "Punch!"
Instantly, his muscles tensed, his stance shifted slightly, and he transitioned from a direct confrontation to a side-on, fist-holding position—the Five-step Fist ready stance. The techniques of the Five-step Fist flashed through his mind like scenes from a live-action film.
In the vision, a burly man with a face of valor stood atop a city wall, practicing his moves, reminiscent of the heroic Guo from "Shooting the Eagle."
Feng Manlou, as if by some supernatural force, executed the Five-step Fist with the ease of a master who had practiced it a million times.
In the faint light, he lunged forward with a punch. His clenched right fist powerfully struck Liuzi's Tanzhong, eliciting a resounding thud!
The Tanzhong Acupoint, a hub of nerves, sent waves of excruciating pain when hit.
"Ouch!"
The pain was so intense for Liuzi that he saw stars, dropping the iron rod with a clang as his body doubled over like a curled shrimp.
Bolstered by the success, Feng Manlou's confidence soared. "It really works! The system isn't just making things up!"
Following the punch, he launched into a kick. Shifting his weight forward, he lifted his right leg and delivered a forceful kick to Liuzi's groin, while his left fist simultaneously landed a precise blow to Liuzi's nose bridge.
"Awoo~!"
Liuzi, bloodied and bruised, issued a pitiful cry akin to a puppy's whimper. He clamped his legs together, clutching his groin, his face a ghastly shade of green as he toppled to the ground.
Liangzi, who had anticipated a spectacle, was rendered speechless.
It was beyond his imagination that Liuzi, with two years of martial arts training under his belt, would be taken down by the scrawny guy who had been handing out flyers.
The memory of that agonizing scream made Liangzi wince in sympathy.
Feng Manlou let out a relieved breath, picked up the iron rod, and approached Liangzi with a sneer, "You wanted to teach me a lesson, to beat me to a pulp? Go to hell!"
"Don't come any closer! If you do, I'll call the cops. Just so you know, excessive self-defense is punishable by law!" Liangzi panicked like a woman accosted by a thug.
"Oh, look, a thief who knows the law. I'm shaking in my boots. What should we do?" Feng Manlou threw his previous taunts back at him.
"I... I'll pay for the medical expenses, I'll pay!" Liangzi's hands shook as he reached for his wallet.
"Hands off!" Feng Manlou commanded, brandishing the iron rod, "Put your hands on your head and lie face down. I'll get it myself."
After all, who could tell if the thief would pull out a wallet or a dagger? He couldn't take that chance.
While Liuzi was still on the ground, feigning a shrimp's curl, Liangzi certainly didn't want to share his fate. He clasped his hands over the back of his head and obediently lay down on the ground.