Martial Arts Crossover: My master tricked Huang Rong into becoming my wife!

Eight years have passed in the blink of an eye.

The midday sun was quite strong, making the sand and stones along the river scorching hot.

Hong Qigong lay lazily on a large blue stone, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, a simple fishing rod in his hand, the fishing line dangling in the clear river water, not moving for a long time.

He squinted, glancing every now and then at Chen Yanzhou, who was sweating profusely in the open space not far away.

Chen Yanzhou is now eight years old and is practicing boxing shirtless. Every move he makes is quite skillful, and there is a hidden strength in his punches and kicks, which shows that he has worked hard.

Hong Qigong looked at him with great satisfaction. He had just been a skinny little boy back then, but now he had grown up so much.

His talent is truly exceptional. What would take an ordinary person three to five years to master in terms of basic martial arts skills, he mastered in just one year.

What's even more remarkable is that this kid is hardworking and never complains about being tired. He gets up before dawn every day to practice horse stance and boxing, rain or shine. He's much more diligent than I was back then.

This is definitely a promising talent for martial arts.

After a while, seeing that Chen Yanzhou had finished his set of punches, Hong Qigong lazily spoke up: "Alright, brat, take a break. Martial arts training requires a balance of work and rest. If you break yourself, who will I get to roast chicken for me?"

Upon hearing Hong Qigong's words, Chen Yanzhou stopped his stance, let out a long breath, picked up a cloth from the side to wipe the sweat from his face, and ran over to Hong Qigong's side in a few steps, sitting down with a thud.

"Master, will you be able to catch any fish today? I've been watching the fishing line for ages and it hasn't moved an inch." Chen Yanzhou looked at the water and sighed.

Hong Qigong chuckled and said, "What do you know? This is called Jiang Taigong fishing; only those who are willing will take the bait. I, an old beggar, wouldn't even take a fish that isn't sincere."

Chen Yanzhou pursed his lips, thinking to himself, "I think you're just being lazy again; you're not really putting your heart into fishing."

He had followed Hong Qigong since childhood and knew his master's personality very well. His martial arts skills were unparalleled, and he was an exceptionally kind person. However, due to his personality, he was sometimes so lazy that people couldn't do anything about him, and he was also particularly gluttonous.

"Master," Chen Yanzhou leaned closer, his face filled with anticipation, "You see, my martial arts skills are almost up to par. When will you teach me internal energy cultivation?"

He started learning martial arts from Hong Qigong when he was six years old, but he only learned some fist and foot skills and some methods to build strength.

It wasn't until half a month ago that Hong Qigong suddenly had the urge to teach him a set of skills called "Hun Tian Gong".

Chen Yanzhou initially thought that "Hun Tian Gong" was some kind of profound internal energy cultivation method, but after practicing for half a month, he discovered that "Hun Tian Gong" was not an internal energy cultivation method at all, but a more exquisite and physically demanding fist and foot technique.

This made him extremely anxious. Without internal strength, no matter how well one practices kung fu, it's just an empty shell, and one will never become a true master.

"Internal energy cultivation?" Hong Qigong asked with a smile. "I don't know any internal energy cultivation."

"What?" Chen Yanzhou was completely dumbfounded, his eyes wide open, and for a moment he thought he had misheard.

Who is Hong Qigong? He is the "Northern Beggar," one of the Five Greats of the martial arts world! His martial arts skills are unparalleled, and his name is renowned throughout the martial arts world.

He said he doesn't know internal martial arts? Even a three-year-old wouldn't believe that!

"Master, you...you must be joking." Chen Yanzhou leaned closer and said.

Hong Qigong nodded with a grin, his face serious: "Why would I lie to you? I've only ever practiced external martial arts my whole life."

Chen Yanzhou was dumbfounded.

You don't know internal energy cultivation? You only practice external skills?

How is that possible!

He had personally witnessed Hong Qigong's skills.

Once, a group of bandits tried to rob their boat. Hong Qigong simply stood at the bow and struck out with an invisible force from a distance, shattering the bow of the enemy boat into pieces.

That ability to injure people from a distance—what else could it be but an extremely profound internal force?

"Then...then where did you get this...this unfathomable inner strength?"

Hong Qigong was amused by his appearance and laughed heartily. After thinking for a moment, he said...

"I think it came from practicing boxing. Every day I box, eat, sleep, box, eat, sleep... It just happened naturally as I practiced. I've never really figured out how it came about."

It just happened naturally...?

Chen Yanzhou stared blankly at Hong Qigong, somewhat bewildered. "No, this isn't like what's written in the novel."

Which great hero didn't painstakingly meditate, cultivate their inner energy, circulate it throughout their body, and break through the barriers to develop profound internal strength? How come, with my master, practicing martial arts... can cultivate internal strength?

Chen Yanzhou looked down at his fist and fell into deep thought.

Over the years, he practiced boxing every day, more diligently than anyone else. But apart from becoming stronger and more powerful, his dantian remained empty, without even a trace of qi.

Could it be that my training method is wrong? Or is there some special trick to the boxing style that my master practices?

He suddenly remembered that "Hun Tian Gong" technique.

The techniques were simple, but practicing them was extremely physically demanding. After half a month, he felt completely drained.

But after each training session, although I'm exhausted like a dead dog, as long as I take a nap, I feel incredibly energetic the next day, as if I have inexhaustible strength in my body.

Could it be... that there really is a method that allows one to generate internal energy from nothing by simply strengthening one's muscles and bones and practicing external skills, without relying on meditation?

He muttered to himself, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible: "From the outside in... internal energy arises spontaneously?"

Hong Qigong, with his sharp ears, heard his mutterings. A hint of approval flashed in his eyes, but his face remained lazy.

He lay back down and mumbled, "Don't think about these things all day, brat. You'd be better off practicing your punches a few more times. You'll understand then."

After saying that, he fell silent, seemingly asleep.

Chen Yanzhou glanced at Hong Qigong, who was feigning sleep, and then at his own still-immature fists, but his mind was far from calm.

From the outside in!

If Master can do it, why can't I?

Isn't it just practicing boxing? Isn't it just enduring hardship?

I've eaten it before over the years.

Suddenly, the bamboo pole stuck in the crevice of the rock, which had been motionless for a long time, sank down sharply, and the tip of the pole instantly bent into a taut bow.

The once calm water surface seemed to have exploded underneath, with water splashing everywhere.

Before Hong Qigong could react, Chen Yanzhou's eyelids twitched. This was a big fish; they couldn't let it get away.

Without saying a word, he rushed over and swung his arm, striking Hong Qigong's greasy old face with a crisp "smack".

"Master! The fish has taken the bait!"

Hong Qigong was jolted awake by the slap, springing up from the bluestone and spitting out grass roots from his mouth: "Where did this scoundrel come from! Daring to ambush an old beggar... Ouch!"

Before he could finish speaking, he saw the fishing rod that was about to be pulled into the river.

He immediately realized what was happening, and with a single reach of his hand, the suction force appeared out of nowhere, allowing him to firmly grasp the bamboo pole.

"Wow! That's powerful!"

Hong Qigong laughed loudly, flicked his wrist, and channeled his inner energy down the fishing line. Before the creature underwater could even exert any force, it was thrown into a daze by this skillful force.

"rise!"

A loud crash.

A large, blue-backed carp, as long as an arm, burst out of the water, drawing a silvery arc in the air before crashing heavily onto the grassy bank, splashing mud everywhere.

"Hahaha! I told you, like Jiang Taigong fishing, only those who are willing will take the bait!" Hong Qigong threw down his fishing rod triumphantly, turned to Chen Yanzhou and shouted, "You brat, what are you standing there for? Start a fire! We're in for a treat today!"

Chen Yanzhou looked at the plump carp, and his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

These days, making money is a rare treat.

He moved swiftly, pulling a short blade from his waist. It was a gift from Lu Youjiao for self-defense, but now it had become his personal kitchen knife.

The scales were removed, the belly was cut open, and the gills were removed; the movements were fluid and fast, leaving only a blur.

"Half roasted, half stewed in soup."

Chen Yanzhou handled the situation while giving instructions without even looking up.

There was no shortage of firewood by the river; with a flick of the tinderbox, flames leaped up.

Before long, the half-fish was roasting over the fire until it sizzled and dripped with oil, its skin golden and crispy. Sprinkled with wild mountain pepper powder and coarse salt that Chen Yanzhou had specially found in the mountains, the domineering aroma of the roasted fish wafted on the wind, enough to steal one's soul.

On the other side, in the old iron pot he carried with him, the fish head and bones were bubbling in the boiling water, the soup had turned a rich milky white color, and when a few wild scallion segments were thrown in, the umami flavor exploded instantly.

"Gulp."

Hong Qigong squatted by the fire, his eyes fixed on the roasted fish, and he swallowed loudly.

"Is it cooked? The skin looks burnt, so it must be done."

As he spoke, that large, dark hand reached out towards the grilled fish.

"Snapped!"

Chen Yanzhou reacted quickly, using a tree branch to deflect the dirty hand.

"What's the rush? It's not cooked yet. The meat inside is still tender. It needs to be grilled a little longer to absorb the flavor."

Hong Qigong withdrew his hand sullenly and rubbed it together: "You little brat, you have more rules about cooking than the imperial chefs in the palace. I've eaten raw and cold food my whole life without any taboos, why would I be so particular?"

Another half-cup of tea time passed.

"Alright."

As soon as he uttered those two words, Hong Qigong pounced on his prey like a hungry tiger, tearing off a large piece of the fattest and most succulent fish belly meat with his bare hands, not caring about the heat, and stuffing it directly into his mouth.

"Whoosh...whoosh...hot hot! Delicious! So delicious!"

The old beggar ate with gusto, his mouth greasy and his face full of delight. "You little rascal, your cooking is amazing! It's far better than those fancy trinkets made in the imperial palace!"

Chen Yanzhou didn't stand on ceremony. He picked up the broken iron pot and first took a big gulp of the milky white fish soup. The sweetness flowed down his throat and into his stomach, warming him up. The fatigue from practicing his boxing earlier instantly dissipated.

Immediately afterwards, he grabbed a piece of grilled fish and stuffed it into his mouth in big mouthfuls.

At eight years old, Chen Yanzhou was in the prime of his growth, and coupled with the high energy expenditure from martial arts training, his appetite was comparable to that of an adult.

Hong Qigong had just swallowed the meat in his mouth and was about to grab a second piece when he discovered that more than half of the grilled fish on the shelf was gone.

Chen Yanzhou eats quietly, but at an astonishing speed, his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's, while he tightly guards the last piece of fish tail in his hand.

"Hey! You little brat!" Hong Qigong snapped, "Don't you know how to respect your teachers? Don't you know how to honor your elders? Leave me some!"

Chen Yanzhou finally managed to swallow the meat in his mouth and said matter-of-factly, "Master, your internal strength is profound; you wouldn't starve even if you didn't eat for days. I'm still growing; how can I practice martial arts if I don't eat more? How can I take care of you in your old age and see you off in your final days?"

"Pah! This old beggar is far from dead!"

Hong Qigong was so angry that he blew his beard and glared, but when he saw Chen Yanzhou wolfing down his food, not even bothering to wipe the grease from the corner of his mouth, his heart softened again.

He shook his head, muttering curses under his breath, but his hand honestly threw the piece of fish he had just torn off back in front of Chen Yanzhou.

"Eat, eat, eat! You little rascal, stuff yourself to death! Don't blame me if you don't grow tall!"

Chen Yanzhou chuckled and, without any pretense, grabbed it and started gnawing on it.

A large carp, soup and all, was devoured by the old man and the young man in a whirlwind.

As the sun began to set, a cool breeze swept along the riverbank.

After eating and drinking my fill, I felt sleepy.

The two of them lay sprawled on the grass without any regard for their image. Hong Qigong patted his bulging belly and hummed an unknown tune. Soon, his snoring was deafening.

Chen Yanzhou also dozed off for a while, but didn't fall into a deep sleep.

About half an hour later, Hong Qigong was awakened by a muffled sound of wind breaking.

He groggily opened his eyes, yawned, and sat up.

In the open space not far away, that small figure was moving again.

Chen Yanzhou was still shirtless, his skin tanned a healthy wheat color by the sun, and sweat trickled down his back.

He was practicing boxing, using the same basic "Hun Tian Gong" style.

The movements were not fast, even somewhat clumsy, but every punch seemed to be delivered with all his strength, leaving deep footprints in the soil beneath his feet.

Hong Qigong watched quietly for a while, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Alright."

He called for a halt.

Chen Yanzhou paused, slowly withdrew his stance, turned around, his chest still heaving violently.

"Master, you're awake?"

Hong Qigong got up from the ground, brushed the grass clippings off his buttocks, walked up to him, and reached out to pinch his shoulder. The muscles were firm and hard as a rock.

"Too much of a good thing is bad." Hong Qigong sighed, speaking with unusual seriousness, "At your age, you should be building a solid foundation. Practicing too intensely will easily damage your vital energy. Our Beggars' Clan's kung fu emphasizes following the natural course. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?"

Chen Yanzhou wiped the sweat from his face, but his eyes were unusually clear.

"Master, I want to become stronger."

"Nonsense, who doesn't want to become stronger when practicing martial arts?" Hong Qigong rolled his eyes. "But no one practices like this. Anyone who didn't know better would think someone had a knife to your throat."

Chen Yanzhou was silent for a moment, then looked up at the distant, rolling mountains and said in a low voice, "Right now, it's like someone has a knife to our throats."

"Now the Jurchens are eyeing us covetously in the north, and the Mongols are restless on the grasslands. The court... the court is content with its corner of the country, only knowing how to indulge in a life of debauchery. This world is in utter chaos. If I don't have some real skills to protect myself, I might get slaughtered like a stray dog ​​on the roadside one day."

Hong Qigong was taken aback. Looking at his young apprentice, who barely reached his waist, he asked...

"Who told you all this nonsense? Was it that big-mouthed Lu Youjiao?"

Chen Yanzhou didn't deny it, and nodded: "Grandpa Lu often told me about the war in the north, about how the people were displaced and even resorted to cannibalism..."

"That old man, always telling the kids this useless stuff!" Hong Qigong cursed, then reached out and ruffled Chen Yanzhou's hair, making it look like a bird's nest.

"Even if the sky falls, there are tall people to hold it up. Who am I, your master? I am Hong Qigong, the Nine-Fingered Beggar! As long as this old beggar has a breath left, who in this martial world dares to lay a finger on you?"

Hong Qigong patted his chest, exuding heroic spirit.

Chen Yanzhou let him rub his head, but just pursed his lips and muttered under his breath, "Come on, you are indeed amazing, but you can't be relied on."

"What did you say?" Hong Qigong's eyes widened. "I can't be trusted?"

"Isn't that right?"

Chen Yanzhou started listing the complaints on his fingers: "The year before last, you said you were going to have a nice meal, but you were gone for three months, leaving me to eat sweet potatoes all by myself. Last year, you said you were going to Dali, but you disappeared for half a year again. If it weren't for Grandpa Lu, I would have starved to death long ago."

"Besides, you're so elusive, if you really run into enemies and they come knocking on your door, by the time you get back, they'll probably only be able to collect my corpse."

Hong Qigong's old face instantly turned a deep liver color.

That...that's definitely his style.

Having grown accustomed to a carefree life, it's easy to lose track of time when indulging in excessive drinking and eating.

"Ahem..." Hong Qigong coughed awkwardly twice, his eyes darting around. "Well... um... I was on important business! Yes, important business! What do you know, you little kid? There are so many important matters in the gang waiting for me to handle..."

"Is the real business to sneak into the Imperial Kitchen to steal some of the Mandarin Duck Five Delicacies Sliced ​​Dish?" Chen Yanzhou bluntly exposed.

Hong Qigong's face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. He raised his bamboo stick as if to strike: "You little brat, how dare you talk nonsense about your master! Looks like you're asking for a beating! Today I'll show you what the Dog-Beating Stick Technique is all about!"