Chapter 119: An Acquaintance
Chapter 119: An Acquaintance
This was a mysterious question filled with unknowns, and Fang Jing just vaguely recalled it without any intention to dig deeper.
He changed the subject. He put down the orange in his hand and glanced at the English book Sakomizu Daigoro was holding.
“You’re taking courses through a correspondence school?”
“Yeah…”
Sakomizu shot him a look. “I can’t fight in illegal boxing matches forever. Gotta find a way to plan for the future, right!”
“Makes sense…”
He casually flipped open a math exercise book on the table.
“You got these completely wrong. This isn’t the way to solve these problems.”
The top-student trait instantly kicked in. Fang Jing just skimmed the messy handwriting and spotted the mistakes in Sakomizu’s answers, then pointed them out.
“Wrong? So how should I solve it…”
“Simple. Just substitute the expression here—”
Perhaps the habit from a past life experience resurfaced, as he started actively explaining it to Sakomizu.
Half an hour later, Sakomizu slammed the exercise book onto the table.
“Hold on. How did this turn into a tutoring session?”
“Guess it just happened without noticing!”
“Wait a minute. You didn’t come here just to teach me math, did you…”
“You’re right.”
Fang Jing felt it was time to get to the point.
“Actually, I came looking for you specifically. The main reason was this…”
He demonstrated an action—the Tiger Claw Fist from Amami-ryu Ancient Karate. Shifting shoulders, sinking elbows, fingers drawn tightly together. Claw-like but not quite. He mimicked every essential detail almost perfectly.
“Why do you know this move?”
Sakomizu Daigoro stared intently at his Tiger Claw Fist posture. He couldn’t understand why Fang Jing knew his style’s technique.
Amami-ryu Ancient Karate was a small, obscure martial arts style. But even small schools had unique traits. Their Tiger Claw Fist had rare characteristics. Compared to similar moves in other ancient Ryukyu Kenpo schools, there were clear, subtle differences.
The posture Fang Jing showed was exactly his own style’s method. Even if it was imitation, it looked incredibly lifelike, at least seventy or eighty percent.
“You mean… just by watching a few times, you memorized the movements? And you can copy them that accurately?”
True or not? If true, that was just too astounding.
Fang Jing replied seriously, “Yes. It seems I’m like the legendary martial arts prodigy you hear about. Whatever martial art it is, I grasp it after watching briefly. If I study seriously, I master it…”
What a joke!
Sakomizu Daigoro pressed his fingers to his forehead.
“Alright, alright! Great genius, why exactly did you come find me?”
“Because I haven’t fully learned this fist style yet. I want to learn the remaining parts.”
“But why should I teach you!”
“But I just taught you math for half an hour.”
Fang Jing stated it flatly.
“Is this an exchange?”
Sakomizu Daigoro slumped, sighing deeply. “I don’t have the time to slowly teach you the fist style, but…”
He twisted around, pulled out a traveling bag from under his bed, and took out a small notebook and some discs.
“This notebook contains my master’s insights into Ancient Karate. Also, these video discs are recordings he made himself. You might as well take them back to look at.”
Fang Jing was a bit surprised. He hadn’t expected Sakomizu Daigoro to give him these things so readily.
He opened the small notebook and saw four Chinese characters written in brush calligraphy: “弥纶破理” (Mi Lun Po Li).
“The writing is really good…”
“弥纶” (Mi Lun) in Chinese philosophy conveyed ideas of overarching comprehension and totality; “破理” (Po Li) implied penetrating and explaining principles.
Just seeing these four characters gracing the cover, it was clear Sakomizu Daigoro’s master was not just some simple boxing teacher.
Flipping through it carefully, he found it was a notebook. It contained records tracing the origins of the Amami-ryu Ancient Karate and the lineage charts of successive generations.
“Um… if I may ask, where does your master live now? If possible, I’d like to visit him sometime.”
“Ha!”
Hearing this, Sakomizu waved his hand dismissively, lowering his voice. “No need. The old man passed away three years ago. These are his belongings. I’m the only disciple left for Amami-ryu Ancient Karate. No, scratch that; I might not even keep practicing. Since you want it, you might as well have it.”
He sat up straighter, a hint of sorrow flashing in his eyes. “These ancient fist styles basically can’t attract students. Opening a dojo doesn’t make money. Let alone nowadays, with kickboxing and mixed martial arts being so popular. Ancient fist arts are disappearing. The old master just taught a few kids in his hometown, mostly for fun. His top disciple? That’s just an accident.”
“When I was a kid, fighting manga were super popular. That’s why I started training at my master’s boxing dojo. Before I knew it, other kids my age left the dojo one by one. I was the only one who stuck it out.”
“Later, because I did Karate in school too, I became an athletic student in high school. Trained hard and all. Then… I messed up. Didn’t even finish school. Had to make a living boxing.”
Though later he woke up to it. Just drifting along wasn’t the answer. He needed to find a new path, break out of that stagnant life.
“Getting beaten by you… honestly, it was good for me. I’m using this time recovering to seriously study something. Gotta find a way forward… Hey! Are you even listening?! Stop fiddling with your phone!”
“Too long. Didn’t hear a thing. Please keep it under twenty words.”
“Shut up.”
The conversation swerved back towards something more familiar.
“Your posture just now was wrong. After bringing the fingers together for the Tiger Claw Fist, the base of the wrist needs to tilt back as much as possible. Lift the claw stance, sink the elbow. Otherwise, if an opponent grabbed your hand and twisted it back, you’d snap your wrist…”
“Like this?”
“Angle’s off. Move it over here a bit more.”
Suddenly, Sakomizu Daigoro seemed to remember something. He looked deeply at Fang Jing, a flash of doubt in his eyes. “Come to think of it, that move you used to hit me… what exactly was that? I barely remember. Just passed out?”
Normally, asking about someone else’s secret technique wasn’t polite. But now that they were fairly familiar, he still wanted to ask the reason. After all, Sakomizu Daigoro was a martial artist. The pursuit and understanding of fighting techniques was almost instinctive.
Fang Jing thought for a moment, expression earnest. “The specifics involve the secret parts of what I learned from Huanzang Style, so I can’t reveal the ‘training method.’ But the principle itself isn’t actually complicated…”
He stood near the wall, demonstrating a punch launched from next to his ribs, striking the wall using power from his waist and stance.
“See? This is how ordinary people usually punch. Most martial techniques follow this: generating force from the waist to strike, relying on muscles.”
Twist the ankle, push off the leg, rotate the waist, drive the shoulder, extend the arm, rotate the wrist – this was the classic straight punch.
This sequential, chain-like power generation process worked like multi-stage rockets, focusing power bit by bit onto a single point.
“But when I exchanged blows with you, it wasn’t that kind of striking method.”
Fang Jing continued, remaining near the wall. He placed his fist against the wall, his body separated from it by a distance. Then he slowly leaned his weight forward, transferring power onto his fist.
“This is the skill known as ‘power discharge’ (‘Fajin’) in inner-school boxing. If you learn this method correctly, even a child could utilize the power of their entire body weight.”
Of course, this was just the principle. True power discharge required coordinating the body’s entire kinetic chain. But this technique wasn’t “magic”—it was grounded in biomechanics and the body’s coordinated muscle movement.
After explaining the principle behind the “High Dragon” and “Submerged Dragon,” Fang Jing also recalled another matter.
“Speaking of which, I almost forgot something else. Sakomizu, take your clothes off.”
“Huh? Why do I need to take off my clothes?”
“Just the top.”
“No, why do I need to take off my shirt?”
“Because after you were struck by my combination attack from Dragon Division and Water Division, it hit you internally with an ‘inner discharge.’ Your body is tough, the hospital couldn’t detect anything wrong. But over time, this hidden force can leave damage internally. Won’t kill you, but it can cause chronic problems…”
Fang Jing rubbed his hands together, his voice serious. “Another reason I came here is to administer massage therapy for your blood circulation. Prevent any complications.”
“Eh? That annoying…”
Sakomizu froze, but Fang Jing wasn’t wasting time. He started forcing him to take the shirt off.
“Hey! Hey! I can take it off myself!”
“You’re too slow. Hurry up.”
After discovering Fang Jing had mastered the combined Dragon-Water technique, Kume Nansho’s attitude had completely changed. Fang Jing sensed that this teacher, who was previously dismissive, was now seriously guiding him to learn Huanzang Style boxing.
His mindset seemed altered, and his teaching held a kind of desperate urgency.
Kume Nansho seemed frantic to pour all his lifetime knowledge into him, cramming information onto him relentlessly.
“Ouch! Ouch!! Take it easy, will you?” Sakomizu yelled.
“Don’t be impatient. It’s only a bit painful at first. It’ll start feeling good soon!”
“No! Noooo!!!” Sakomizu shrieked.
The hospital room echoed with the screams of a grown man.
Maybe the noise was too much. Someone kicked the door open.
“What’s all this racket? This is a hospital!” A woman in a nurse’s uniform burst in.
It was the head nurse. She had a chart clasped in her arm and froze upon entering. The sight before her: Sakomizu Daigoro half-naked on the bed, propped over the bedrail by Fang Jing, clearly in agonizing pain and powerless to resist.
“Nishizuka lad? Is that you?” A man leaning on crutches, his leg in a cast, appeared behind the head nurse. He waved at Fang Jing.
“Never thought I’d run into you here!”
“Toriumi… it’s you.”
Toriumi Kotaro. Fang Jing hadn’t expected a trip to the hospital to include bumping into an acquaintance.