Chinese martial arts: From human punching bags to martial arts mastery

"Damn that good money!"

The tea server, his face a mass of bulging, menacing flesh, gripped Wang Xiaoer's collar tightly with his thick, fan-like left hand, his knuckles turning pale and blue: "This 'Dragon Beard Platform' is not a place for a nobody like you to sit!"

The skinny Wang Xiaoer was like a chick being lifted up, his legs dangling in the air, kicking wildly, his face pale with fright, and his whole body trembling like a withered leaf in the autumn wind.

"No, no, no... I didn't mean to... I don't know anything about Dragon Beard Platform..."

But he hadn't finished speaking.

"Hmph—do you even know that?!"

The tea master held the boiling teapot in his right hand, raising it high into the air, about to pour it down hard—performing the "boiling punishment" in the "tea ceremony," to show Wang Xiaoer what teahouse rules were all about.

"Wait a minute—!"

A sharp shout, clear and cold, carrying an irresistible pressure, instantly silenced the clamor in the entire teahouse.

Everyone turned their heads sharply—and saw Chen Feng move like an arrow, closing in on the tea server in just two steps, so fast that he was just a black shadow!

With a flick of his wrist, his five fingers, like eagle claws, seized the other man's left hand that was gripping Wang Xiaoer's collar.

The tea master didn't even utter a sound, only feeling a numbness in his wrist, and the force was instantly dissipated by most of it.

Before he could glare and shout angrily.

"call out--!"

The sound of wind suddenly cut through the air!

Chen Feng's movements were so fast that they were almost invisible to the naked eye; his fingertips left a trail of afterimages as they brushed against the air.

"Ang san lei—!"

The moment the tea master had this thought in his mind, his right hand was suddenly empty—the shop's prized possession, a 1.2-meter-long gilded dragon-mouth teapot made entirely of purple bronze, was snatched away by Chen Feng in an instant!

What's even more amazing is...

One second the attack is as fierce as a mountain collapsing and rocks splitting, the next second the pot falls as lightly as a feather skimming the water.

The boiling water remained perfectly still in the kettle, not even a single drop spilled.

next moment.

The 1.2-meter-long dragon-shaped spout points straight at the teahouse entrance, like a spear drawn from its sheath, its sharpness intimidating and its aura instantly overwhelming the entire room.

"suck----!"

The tea drinkers in the room held their breath, their gasps filling the air.

"My God! This kid's speed is unbelievable!"

"Is it a human or a ghost? Their hand speed is terrifying!"

Everyone was dumbfounded, their eyes fixed on Chen Feng, who had snatched the Dragon Mouth Cauldron. Only two words came to mind: master!

"Hmph! You bastard—!!"

The tea master was both shocked and furious. His face trembled violently, and his right hand moved like a venomous snake emerging from its hole. He twisted his wrist and used the skillful force he had honed over more than ten years to frantically try to take back the Dragon Mouth Teapot.

"Snapped!"

A soft sound.

Chen Feng simply placed his palm lightly on the lid of the boiling kettle.

It may seem like a casual remark, but it feels like a mountain pressing down on you!

The tea master gripped the handle of the teapot, which was wrapped with oil-soaked hemp rope, so tightly that his face turned red, his veins bulged, and he braced his feet against the table leg—using every ounce of strength he had, but the teapot remained motionless, as if it had become one with Chen Feng's hand.

"Damn it! You little brat! Let go!"

Enraged, he abruptly released the limp Wang Xiaoer with his left hand, grabbed the handle with both hands, and pulled hard.

Chen Feng's fingertips remained as steady as a rock, without even a furrow of his brow, and the teapot remained completely still.

"Tsk tsk tsk————"

"Such remarkable skill at such a young age!"

"So young, yet he knows how to appreciate tea and perform the tea ceremony!"

"Truly, the younger generation surpasses the older; we've certainly broadened our horizons today!"

"Hehe, this tea server has really messed up today!"

A second, earth-shattering gasp erupted in the teahouse, louder, wilder, and more exhilarating than before!

At this extremely tense moment.

"Waiter!"

Chen Feng let out a cold shout that shook the roof beams and made the teacups vibrate: "We all follow the rules, so bring out three covered teacups to make a '品' (pǐn, meaning 'quality' or 'taste') for the brothers!"

Upon hearing this, the tea master shuddered violently!

The hand holding the teapot suddenly withdrew, and his eyes changed drastically, from fierce to horrified, and then to deep fear!

This isn't about causing trouble—it's underworld slang, the code of the underworld!

His pupils contracted sharply, and he stared intently at Chen Feng, momentarily at a loss for words.

Before he could react...

"call out--"

Chen Feng lightly hooked his toes, and the bamboo chair spun in the air before landing steadily behind him.

He turned and sat down, his back straight as a spear, his demeanor as steady as a mountain: "Now that you've taken your seat, why don't you serve some tea?"

Then, his voice deepened, and he added, "Also, add a covered bowl and an empty plate!"

"Ta-da!"

The tea server was struck dumb, staggering back three steps, his face alternating between pale and flushed, all traces of arrogance gone.

He hurriedly clasped his hands and bowed, repeatedly saying yes, and quickly set out the teacups, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold the tea set.

After a while.

Four covered bowls are neatly arranged.

Chen Feng raised his hand and gently lifted the dragon-mouthed kettle.

The 1.2-meter-long spout hangs diagonally in mid-air, its posture as graceful as a sword dance.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!"

Boiling water, like silver threads, cascades precisely into the bowl. The tea leaves tumble and burst forth with aroma, instantly filling the entire teahouse with a refreshing fragrance.

"etc!"

Chen Feng reached out and stopped the tea server who was about to leave: "Bring me another piece of moldy tea!"

The tea master frowned, then his eyes sharpened—he instantly understood the deeper meaning behind the coded message!

He dared not say more, and immediately turned around. A short while later, he came back with a small piece of moldy tea in his hand.

"sharp!"

Hu Mingxuan slapped his thigh, gave a straight thumbs-up, his eyes full of admiration, pulled over a chair and sat down, his whole body burning with excitement.

But the next second—the whole place erupted!

"Holy crap! Moldy tea!"

"Holy crap! This guy's trying to take over!"

"This young man is just here to cause trouble!"

"Run away quickly, or I'll get splattered with blood..."

Everyone understood that leaving moldy tea and empty plates in teahouses was an unspoken rule among江湖人士 (jianghu figures, people of the martial arts world) to arrange meetings and seek revenge. This young man was waiting for someone, and he was definitely not waiting for a kind soul!

The teahouse instantly descended into chaos. Nearby customers were terrified and frantically moved their chairs back.

"Crunch! Crunch! Crunch—"

The ear-piercing friction sound was so loud it made one's teeth ache, and everyone avoided it like the plague, fearing they would be drawn into this conflict.

In the chaos, Wang Xiaoer finally came to his senses.

He looked at Chen Feng, who sat upright at the table with an imposing aura, his eyes sparkling. He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and trembled with excitement: "Brother Feng! Brother Feng, you're so cool! What was that move you just did? Please teach me! I want to learn too!"

Before he could finish speaking...

A burly, dark figure suddenly appeared at the entrance of the teahouse.

The burly man stood like a mountain, eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and a fierce face. His machete gleamed coldly at his waist, and he roared like a bell.

"The person you've been waiting for—has arrived!"

His copper bell-like eyes swept across the entire room, instantly locking onto the "river view seat" by the window—the most conspicuous spot in the teahouse, where a specially reserved covered bowl and empty plate were prominently displayed!

"Tap tap tap—"

The burly man strode heavily toward the table, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly.

"puff--"

Without saying a word, he slammed his butt down on the reserved seat!

"Creak—"

The wooden chair groaned under the weight, and a menacing aura instantly enveloped the entire table.

The burly man stared intently at Chen Feng and his two companions; the air seemed to freeze.

Available in the next second.

A clear, melodious, yet breathtaking sound rang out.

"bite------!!"