Lunch at noon was nothing short of grand and tumultuous.
Even George Han, usually calm and composed, was swept up in a tide of shock and doubt.
In the end.
Andrew Han and Leonard Gao left together, chatting and laughing, marking the beginning of their acquaintance.
George Han's family of four sat in the private room, exchanging glances. Their emotions churned like a stormy sea—bewildered, shocked, and unable to settle, the atmosphere thick with confusion and awe.
Click.
A chopstick fell to the floor, making a faint sound.
Yet that small sound shattered the hushed silence. Helen Han's eyes darted around, and after three quick breaths, she finally spoke, still in shock: "Was that really my little brother Andrew? He, he...?"
She struggled to find the words.
The man who had just sat across from her was Leonard Gao, a wealthy magnate in Riverdale—one of the city's elite. Even with his warm smile, Helen Han, a freshman at Riverdale Normal University, felt anxious and restless, her nerves stretched to the limit.
But her cousin Andrew Han remained perfectly composed, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
Gurgle.
Mindy Han shook her round, chubby face, sensing more beneath the surface. "Dad, was Leonard Gao really here for Andrew?" she asked, incredulous.
"Sis, what are you saying?" Helen Han's eyes widened.
"Helen, you still don't get it? With Leonard Gao's status, he has no need to be so courteous and enthusiastic with our family. He kept offering drinks, lowering himself, and making conversation—all clearly for Andrew's sake." Mindy Han bit her lip, her voice trembling.
"Impossible!" Helen Han protested, looking toward her father.
Suddenly.
George Han, his hair flecked with gray, broke into a growing smile and laughed heartily. "Andrew is truly impressive, to have caught Leonard Gao's attention."
With those words, the truth was laid bare.
After years in business, George Han could see through the situation instantly. Yet the more he understood Leonard Gao's wealth, the more shocked he became—he could no longer see his nephew Andrew clearly.
But.
Does it matter whether I can truly see through him? George Han felt gratified. No matter what, his younger brother had such a son, and that gave him peace of mind.
"Dad." Helen Han was dumbfounded, the truth dawning on her as her mind spun chaotically.
"This favor is immense," Mindy Han sighed, her thoughts just as muddled.
The private room returned to silence.
Outside, the midsummer sunlight illuminated the complicated expressions of Grace Han and her two daughters, and cast a light on George Han's upright shoulders.
——
The next day.
On the banks of the Yunton River, which runs through Riverdale, sits a park.
The park is vast, spanning the Yunton River and filled with dense trees. The air quality is excellent, but there are no amusements—just endless rows of trees and few visitors.
In a secluded corner.
Swish.
Andrew Han raised his right fist high, channeling power from his waist and shoulders. With the force of gravity, it came down like a torrential rain from the heavens, crashing toward the earth.
Bang!
As his right fist halted midair, he gathered strength and, with a turn of his body, unleashed his left fist.
"Wrong!"
A loud shout echoed through the woods.
Miles Ning, dressed in an old leather jacket and smoking a cigarette, leaned against a tree. "The Torrential Downpour technique is about an unyielding, wholehearted strike. You were clearly holding back, so you couldn't capture the true essence of the move."
Andrew Han listened obediently. "Yes."
Miles Ning finished half his cigarette in one drag, shook his head, and walked toward Andrew Han. "I understand—using the air as your imaginary opponent is difficult for you."
Andrew Han smiled. "Thank you, Master, for your understanding."
These days, Miles Ning only taught technique practice; Andrew Han managed his stance training on his own. Even so, practicing the Torrential Downpour technique brought Andrew Han earth-shaking changes.
He progressed rapidly, moving from basic punches and kicks to a high level of proficiency.
The Torrential Downpour technique wasn't just for offense—it could also be used to dodge, greatly enhancing Andrew Han's combat skills.
Pat.
Pat.
Miles Ning scratched his graying hair, extended his thin arm, and said gently, "Thinking it over, it's best if I demonstrate myself."
Swish!
His thin palm suddenly unfurled, sweeping through the air like a hurricane, and in an instant, it was right in front of Andrew Han's face!
"Not good!"
Andrew Han's expression changed—if that blow landed, he'd be seriously injured.
Boom!!
Andrew Han barely managed to block with his left arm, striking with his elbow against the palm. In a flash, he was sent flying several meters into the air.
Miles Ning stepped forward, shooting toward Andrew Han.
Still wearing slippers, his right foot kicked Andrew Han's arms, sending him flying over ten meters and crashing into a tree.
Immediately, that right foot kicked out again.
Andrew Han clutched his bruised arms, turned against the tree, and dove to the side.
Thud!!
The kick landed on the tree, splintering the bark and sending leaves trembling, as if bowing to Miles Ning's fierce power.
The blazing sun filtered through the leaves, creating patches of light.
Falling leaves swirled, deepening the stifling, oppressive atmosphere.
"Master!" Andrew Han groaned, catching his breath. "You said training would be every three days. You already sparred with me yesterday afternoon—do you really need to do it again today?"
"It's fine. I don't mind the effort," said Miles Ning.
Miles Ning showed an awkward smile, shifted his feet, and swung his right arm toward Andrew Han.
???
Is this really about being tired? You aren't tired, but I am—I'm exhausted!
Andrew Han's eyes twitched furiously as he threw both fists forward, unleashing the Torrential Downpour technique. With meaning behind his strikes, he barely managed to block the sweeping attack.
Out of every three punches, only one carried true intent.
If a punch lacked intent, he would be sent flying.
After a long bout, Andrew Han leaned on a nearby tree, panting, and began to recount what had happened yesterday.
He needed to clarify things, relying on his master's authority.
Hiss.
Miles Ning lit a cigarette, his wrinkled face breaking into a smile. "Well done."
It was the first time his master had shown such approval. Andrew Han was stunned, unsure what to make of it.
Miles Ning leaned against the tree and said casually, "Make good use of your advantages. Accept and utilize your strengths wisely—it's not just leveraging, it's self-awareness. Don't pretend to be above it all or reject what's rightfully yours."
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"Master speaks the truth," Andrew Han listened quietly.
Miles Ning continued, "Martial arts require resources. The Martial Arts World may stand above reality, but it still has rules and regulations. If you rely solely on force to seize and dominate, thinking power alone lets you rule, you're courting disaster."
"The Martial Arts World has its rules."
"Even with great power, you must use reasonable means to accumulate wealth and influence. Martial strength isn't a license for recklessness—it's a qualification that allows us to stand taller and see farther."
——
Night fell.
On a relatively quiet street.
Both sides of the street were lined with greenery. Few pedestrians were about, and occasionally a car or bus passed by, adding to the tranquil summer night.
Pat.
Andrew Han walked with a backpack, frowning. He thought to himself, "Though my martial strength has grown, everything still hinges on rank. It's imperative to travel to other cities to seek out Graywhite Aura—I can't delay any longer."
So.
After the class dinner, I'll book a train ticket right away.
As for short trips, Andrew Han had no interest—time was tight. If he couldn't become a martial artist by year's end, who knew what punishment Master Miles Ning would devise.
Above Second Grade is First Grade.
Only by reaching First Grade could he finally relax a little.
Whoosh, whoosh.
The bright moon hung high, casting gentle light. Occasionally, a warm breeze drifted by, making the night even more peaceful.
It was about ten thirty; the shops on both sides of the street had long since closed, and pedestrians were rare.
Andrew Han took out his phone to check the time and quickened his pace. As finding Graywhite Aura became more difficult, he was returning home later than usual.
His footsteps echoed.
He walked past two streets and could vaguely see his apartment complex ahead. The street before him was dimly lit; several street lamps seemed broken, flickering on and off.
"Hmm."
Andrew Han glanced casually at the flickering street lamps, paid them no mind, and continued walking, eager to get home.
Click, click.
The streetlights kept flickering, now faster, accompanied by a faint buzzing of electricity.
He sighed inwardly at the city's neglect—broken streetlights left unrepaired. Frowning, he glanced twice at the flickering lights, but suddenly froze, his body tensing instantly.
!
!!
Something's wrong!
Did he catch something out of the corner of his eye?
Above the trees on the right side of the street, a pitch-black shadow crouched!
If he hadn't looked at the streetlight, he wouldn't have noticed the shadow in the tree overhead—just four or five meters away. What was it?
A thief? A lunatic? Or a robber?
But as Andrew Han became more involved in the Martial Arts World, his thinking changed. In a flash, another thought struck him—could it be some kind of demon or monster?
If he were an ordinary person, he'd never notice the shadow.
Even if he did, he'd just think it was a criminal.
"Attack!"
In that instant, Andrew Han roared like thunder.
It was both to bolster his own courage and to test the shadow's reaction... At that moment, Andrew's heart pounded wildly, his actions driven purely by instinct.
Thank goodness for Master Miles Ning's training—he was truly grateful.
Thud!
In a flash, Andrew Han twisted his right foot, unleashing wild brute force before it even left the ground. His right fist shot from his waist, striking at the shadow above!
Torrential Downpour technique!
With a roar and his full strength unleashed, Andrew Han sprang upward and punched at the shadow in the tree, holding nothing back.
"Damn!"
Andrew Han's heart sank. "I didn't put enough intent into the technique!"
In an instant.
The shadow moved too, shrouded in black mist. It collided with Andrew Han's right fist, producing a muffled thud. A scream followed as the shadow was knocked from the tree and crashed onto the street.
Thud.
The shadow slammed into the street pavement.
Crash.
The branches and leaves above shook wildly.
"Huh?"
"A solid hit? Did I strike the sole of its shoe?"
"No, that's not right! If it were an ordinary person, they couldn't withstand my punch. With three thousand pounds of force and the technique's power, I'd shatter their leg on the spot!"
As these thoughts flashed through his mind.
Suppressing all distractions, Andrew Han stepped forward, using the ground for leverage. His left foot shot out like an arrow, fiercely kicking the shadow, radiating a brutal force.
Rip!
His pants leg vibrated with the force.
The shadow shrank back, rolling several times before hissing, "Stop! Stop! Who are you?"