nagpurpolice Chapter 69 Snake Step
Chapter 69 Snake Step
Fang Shuwen woke up before dawn the next day.
I didn't wake up naturally; I was woken up by the sound of rain outside.
It rained sometime last night.
The sound of the metal hitting the tiles was rapid and frequent.
Fang Shuwen sat up, rubbed his eyes, and walked to the window, opening it a crack.
It was gloomy outside, and rain was pouring down like a curtain.
The yard was covered with a layer of water, and raindrops splashed up in dense sprays when they hit it.
"This awful weather."
He muttered something, closed the window, and started getting dressed.
Since I can't sleep anyway, I might as well go out early.
When he left the bookstore yesterday, he kept thinking about something.
Body movement.
Shen Xinyi is right. When using overt force against covert force, a direct confrontation is suicidal.
The only chance is to prevent the opponent from hitting you.
His agility and speed are better than his.
With his current combination of Tengshe Fist and his snake-like talent, his body's flexibility is sufficient.
They can dodge or launch attacks from angles that are hard for ordinary people to imagine.
However, it still falls short in terms of speed and agility.
If you really encounter a master of internal force, it will be very troublesome if you are hit by internal force and fail to dodge.
I need to learn a proper martial art.
Fang Shuwen washed his face, stuffed the two cold steamed buns he hadn't finished eating last night into his pocket, and then took out his money pouch from under the bed and counted them.
Four hundred and thirty silver dollars, plus a few banknotes.
This is all his possessions.
Excluding what was left for Lao Fang, there were about four hundred yuan that could be used.
When I went outside, it was still raining.
Fang Shuwen didn't use an umbrella; he just turned up his collar and ran towards East Street.
There weren't many people on the street, and the breakfast stalls weren't open yet.
On the street corner, only a few early-morning rickshaw pullers huddled under their sheds to shelter from the rain, with cheap cigarettes dangling from their mouths.
No one greeted him when they saw him run over.
After all, his attire clearly indicated that he was a poor student.
If you can't afford a ride, naturally no one will be willing to give you a lift.
When Fang Shuwen arrived at the entrance of the martial arts hall, he was soaked to the bone.
He pushed open the door and went in. The steam lamps in the foyer were still on, illuminating the marble floor.
The lobby was empty, all the windows were closed, and only an old man on duty was dozing off in his chair.
Fang Shuwen didn't bother him. She stood in the hall for a while and shook off the water.
After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, people started arriving one after another.
First came a middle-aged man in a gray cloth long gown, with an oil-paper umbrella tucked under his arm. After entering the room, he put the umbrella away and poured water on the ground.
Then came two or three young men, who looked like apprentices from a martial arts school, chatting and laughing.
At 7:30 sharp, all the windows opened on time.
Fang Shuwen walked straight into the library.
The doorman was replaced; he was an old man in his fifties, with a round face, bald head, and wearing reading glasses, slowly wiping the table.
When he saw Fang Shuwen approaching, he raised his eyelids and glanced at him, but said nothing.
"Uncle, I'd like to exchange for a movement technique."
The old man then put down the rag, took out a thick booklet from the drawer, and pushed it in front of Fang Shuwen.
"All the movement techniques available at the Ming Jin level are listed above. Take a look for yourself."
Fang Shuwen took the booklet and opened it.
The booklet was handwritten, in tiny characters, with each page clearly listed.
Each type of exercise has a description, price, and redemption conditions listed below its name.
He flipped to the "body techniques" section and began to look at it page by page.
"Snake-like gait?"
Soon, Fang Shuwen came across a movement technique called "Snake Step".
The fact that the name contained the word "snake" made his heart flutter, and he couldn't help but take a few more glances at it.
He looked down at the introduction:
"The Snake Step is derived from the crawling posture of snakes. Its footwork is unpredictable, the body is low to the ground, and it is good at using the small to defeat the large and the weak to overcome the strong. When mastered, the body moves like a snake, making it difficult to predict when to advance or retreat."
Price: 180 silver dollars.
Fang Shuwen raised an eyebrow.
Is it derived from the posture of a snake?
The Tengshe Fist he is currently practicing has a snake-like effect, and his flexibility far exceeds that of ordinary people.
If it's as he thinks, then the combined effect of the serpentine talent and this footwork technique will likely be greater than the sum of its parts.
"Sir, could I see the original version of this 'Snake Step'?"
The old man raised his eyelids and glanced at him, took the booklet and scanned it, then turned around and pulled a thin booklet from the shelf behind him, placing it on the counter.
"You can only look at it here; you can't take it away."
Fang Shuwen nodded and turned the page.
The book is thin, about twenty pages long, and is richly illustrated.
Each page features illustrations of human gait, accompanied by annotations in tiny, handwritten characters.
He quickly skimmed through it, and the more he looked, the more it seemed to fit his vision.
The core of this movement technique is not speed, but "deception".
The footwork follows an arc, the body remains low and the center of gravity is very low, gliding along the ground like a snake.
Combined with his serpentine innate flexibility, he should be able to perform many moves that are impossible for ordinary people.
"This is the one."
Fang Shuwen closed the book and pushed it in front of the old man.
The old man glanced at him, said nothing, and pulled a form from the drawer and handed it to him.
"Fill out the form and pay."
Fang Shuwen took the pen and quickly filled in his name and the name of the cultivation technique. Then he counted out 180 silver dollars from his money bag and stacked them on the counter.
The old man counted them, nodded, put the book "Snake Steps" into a brown paper bag, and pushed it over.
"The cultivation techniques must not be taught privately. If discovered, the practitioner's cultivation will be abolished at best, and the practitioner will be killed on the spot at worst."
That's a pretty harsh statement.
But there's no need to doubt that the National Martial Arts Academy truly possesses such strength.
He nodded: "Understood."
The old man didn't look at him again, lowered his head and continued wiping the table, as if his previous words were just a formality.
Fang Shuwen stuffed the paper bag into his arms, turned around, and went downstairs.
........
It was already noon when they returned to the Zhao residence.
It's still raining.
It's not as heavy as it was in the morning, but it's still drizzling, and it doesn't look like it'll stop anytime soon.
Fang Shuwen was soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his body.
He first went to the kitchen to ask Hu Da for a bowl of hot ginger soup, which he gulped down before he could catch his breath.
"Xiao Fang, did you find your dad when you went out so early this morning?" Hu Da asked, squatting behind the stove while tending the fire.
"Found it." Fang Shuwen wiped his mouth and didn't say anything more.
Hu Da didn't press further, but simply sighed, "Are you alright?"
"It's nothing, he went back to his hometown for some business, he'll be back in a couple of days," Fang Shuwen said.
"oh!"
Hu Da responded and didn't ask any more questions.
Fang Shuwen couldn't explain too much either; the fewer people who knew about the Wild Wolf Gang, the better.
He placed the empty bowl on the stove, wiped his mouth, and said, "Uncle Hu, please save some food for me at noon. I'm going to rest for a while."
"Okay, I've still saved the ribs for you."
Fang Shuwen nodded, turned around and went back into the house.
He closed the door, took off his soaking wet clothes, wrung them out, and draped them over the back of the chair.
Then he took out the book "Snake Steps" from his pocket and sat down at the table.
The rain was pattering outside, but it was quiet inside.
He flipped through the book again, this time looking at it more carefully, memorizing every picture and every word.
The twelve forms of the snake-like step were quickly imprinted in his mind.