inspire-indiana Chapter 23 The ancient story of Xiang Yu lifting the tripod
Chapter 23 The ancient story of Xiang Yu lifting the tripod
"My car is dirty."
Lu Cheng looked at the trampled rickshaw and said something indifferently.
next second.
He moved.
"Buzz!"
He suddenly jerked the white wax spear in his hand.
The flexible spear shaft, under the infusion of Ming Jin (a type of internal energy), instantly snapped into a straight line.
Facing the man with the machete who was at the forefront.
Lu Cheng used the gun barrel as a whip.
Block, seize, and stab!
"Snapped!"
A crisp sound.
The white waxwood stick lashed hard against the man's wrist.
Click!
The sound of bones breaking was clearly audible.
The man screamed in agony as the machete in his hand flew a great distance.
But this is only the beginning.
Lu Cheng moved like a dragon, charging into the crowd.
At this moment, he was no longer the gentle and refined character he once was.
He is a god of death!
The white wax spear in his hand transformed into a sky full of white shadows.
He didn't use the tip of the gun to stab someone in a vital spot, because that would be murder and would lead to legal trouble.
He used techniques such as "pulling," "picking," "pushing," and "striking"!
"Slap, slap, slap!"
The sound of gun barrels striking flesh was incessant.
With every shot fired, one person falls to the ground.
They might have their arms broken, their legs swept off their feet, or be struck in the chest by a gun barrel, instantly passing out.
Just then, a dark figure roared and rushed over from the side, holding a baton in his hand, and was about to smash it down with his eyes closed.
But this person's movements were noticeably slow, and he seemed hesitant, lacking any murderous intent.
Lu Cheng instinctively prepared to unleash a "Bang" strike with his spear. If this strike landed, the man would break at least three of his ribs.
But just as the gun barrel was about to touch the man's chest, Lu Cheng saw the face clearly.
A face red from the cold, and a tattered cotton-padded coat.
It's a plug.
That honest young man who helped his father lift the car just two days ago, with bright eyes, said he only wanted to get medicine for his mother.
At this moment, Shuanzi's eyes were filled with terror, the look of a dog forced into a corner by life and forced to bite.
Lu Cheng frowned and suddenly flipped his wrist.
The key to unloading!
The originally fierce and unstoppable force instantly transformed into a gentle force.
The gun barrel didn't break his bones; instead, like a schoolteacher's ruler, it struck Shuanzi's hand holding the stick hard with a "smack."
Clang!
The baton hit the ground.
Shuanzi jolted awake in pain, opened his eyes, and met Lu Cheng's cold gaze.
He was so frightened that his legs went weak and he knelt down on the muddy ground: "Master Lu..."
Lu Cheng's spear hovered above his head, not falling. With a flick of his wrist, he changed direction and charged into the crowd once more.
"Oh, my legs."
"My hand is broken!"
"A ghost...he's a ghost!"
Less than three minutes.
The dozens of thugs who had initially appeared menacing were now mostly dead.
The remaining dozen or so men, their hands gripping the sticks trembling, retreated step by step, their drunkenness long since replaced by fear.
This is hardly a fight.
This is clearly a tiger entering a flock of sheep!
Lu Cheng stood in the center of the crowd, his large gun still held steadily at the same level, without even taking a breath.
The black figure stretched out long in the firelight.
Just like Zhao Zilong of Changshan on Changban Slope, who regarded Cao Cao's generals as mere weeds!
"They're all fucking useless!"
Wan Qi, who was sitting on the steps, couldn't sit still any longer.
He was a martial arts expert, specializing in external martial arts, and was known as the "Iron Arhat" because his body was so tough that he could withstand blows from sticks.
"I'll deal with you myself."
Wan Qi roared and jumped down the steps.
The massive body landed, shaking the ground three times.
He swung the heavy cleaver, weighing dozens of kilograms, and with a whistling sound, chopped it down at Lu Cheng's head.
This is... the pinnacle of integrated strength!
The spine twists and turns like a dragon turning over, the fascia rises, and the whole body twists into one force.
This strike was powerful and heavy; if it landed squarely, it would split the man and his gun in two.
Lu Cheng did not dodge.
He watched the falling machete, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.
In that instant, the ash wood stick in my hand seemed to come alive.
The spear tip transformed into countless afterimages, like serpents, coiling around the shaft of the blade.
The "Twisting" Technique!
Lu Cheng flicked his wrist, unleashing a burst of internal energy.
That spiraling, drilling force traveled along the gun barrel to Wan Qi's hand.
"Let go!"
Lu Cheng roared.
The thunderous roar of tigers and leopards resounded.
Wan Qi felt a violent tremor in his hand, and half of his body went numb. He couldn't even hold onto the broadsword, and it fell to the ground with a clatter.
Before he could react...
The white waxwood stick was already pressed against his throat.
The spearhead was made of tin and was not sharpened.
But under Lu Cheng's force, the blunt end still pressed down on Wan Qi, causing him severe pain in his throat and making it difficult for him to breathe.
With just a slight push from Lu Cheng, this stick could pierce his throat.
"Seventh Master?"
Lu Cheng's voice was cold and soft.
"Now, how should these rules be written?"
Wan Qi's face trembled, and cold sweat streamed down his bald head.
He lost.
We lost completely.
He wasn't even allowed to touch the knife; the other person subdued him in one move.
This is the skill of a martial arts master!
"Master, Master Lu..."
Wan Qi swallowed hard, his voice hoarse.
"I give up. You're in charge of the South City now."
"Please take the cart away. Tomorrow... I'll have someone send one hundred... no, three hundred silver dollars to your residence as an apology."
Lu Cheng put his gun away.
Wan Qi plopped down on the ground, panting heavily, as if he had just escaped death.
The henchmen lying on the ground around them were all terrified and kept quiet, even suppressing their groans.
Lu Cheng ignored Wan Qi.
He walked straight to the "Speedy" rickshaw that had been abandoned in the mud.
The car was covered in mud, and there was still a footprint on the leather seat that hadn't been wiped off.
Lu Cheng took out a clean handkerchief from his pocket.
Bend down.
Carefully and meticulously, bit by bit, wiped the footprint clean.
The movements were gentle, as if polishing a rare treasure.
The entire room fell silent.
Only the sound of the wind whistling through the torches could be heard.
It's wiped clean.
Lu Cheng straightened up.
The bearing of this car was kicked askew by those guys; it can't be pushed, and it's difficult to pull.
Lu Cheng frowned slightly.
Then, he did something that everyone present would never forget.
He switched the large gun in his hand to his left hand.
Then, they walked to the bottom of the rickshaw.
Stand firmly in a horse stance and focus your energy in your lower abdomen.
He stretched out his right hand and grabbed the center crossbeam of the axle.
"rise!"
With a muffled roar.
Lu Cheng's back muscles bulged suddenly, stretching his black shorts taut.
The solid wood rickshaw weighed over 100 pounds, and with the brass and iron fittings, it must have weighed at least 120 pounds.
Lifting up and raising up are two completely different concepts.
Moreover, this thing is huge and extremely difficult to apply force to.
But it was in Lu Cheng's hands.
The car slowly and steadily... lifted off the ground!
He lifted it above his head with one hand!
"Oh my god..."
Wan Qi on the ground was dumbfounded.
This is like Xiang Yu lifting the tripod!
How much strength must that require to coordinate the waist and stance? How terrifying must that balance be?
Lu Cheng held up the rickshaw with one hand, like a pagoda-bearing heavenly king.
He held a large white wax spear in his left hand, the tip of which was pointing diagonally at the ground.
He carried the car, step by step, toward the gate.
Excuse me.
The thugs who were blocking the way and hadn't gotten up yet were so frightened by this scene that they scrambled to the sides.
I was terrified that the car would fall and crush me into a pulp.
Lu Cheng kept his eyes straight ahead.
He paused as he walked past Wan Qi.
Although he didn't see Wan Qi, Wan Qi felt as if a mountain was pressing down on his heart.
"Tomorrow, I want to see that guy who staged the accident kneeling at my doorstep."
"If you're even an hour late, I'll come and dismantle your stable."
Done.
Lu Cheng, carrying the cart, strode out of the courtyard gate and disappeared into the vast night.
……
That night.
The South City Road was shaken.
Wan Qiye of Jucheng Auto Dealership was challenged by a single person.
Dozens of people couldn't stop one of them.
Finally, they even had someone lift the car with one hand and carry it away.
The news spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of Beijing.
Early the next morning.
The main gate of the Lu family's residence.
Two people are kneeling.
It was the same two swindlers who staged the accident yesterday. They were beaten black and blue, and they were holding three hundred silver dollars and a pile of "antique" fragments in their hands.
Master Wan stood personally to the side, holding a whip in his hand, his face full of obsequiousness.
Lu Laogen pushed open the door and was startled by what he saw.
"What... what is this?"
"Old Master Lu!"
Wan Qi suddenly knelt down on one knee, his fleshy face beaming with a wide smile.
"I, Wanqi, was blind yesterday and offended you, sir."
"I've already taught those two blind bastards a lesson."
"This three hundred silver dollars is compensation for your emotional distress."
"That car... I had it repaired overnight, and they replaced the bearings with the best ones; it works even better than a new one!"
Lu Laogen looked at the bully in front of him, who was arrogant and beat him until he cried for his parents yesterday, but now he was kneeling on the ground like a lapdog.
He was in a daze.
He turned around and looked into the courtyard.
Lu Cheng was wearing a white training uniform and standing in the Three-Body Stance in the morning light.
that moment.
Lu Laogen suddenly felt that his son's figure had become incredibly tall.
He was even more imposing than Zhao Zilong on the stage.
"Father, please accept it."
Lu Cheng's voice came softly.
"This is what you deserve."
Lu Laogen straightened his back and took a deep breath.
He accepted the three hundred silver dollars.
heavy.
But what weighs even more heavily on him is the immense respect his son has earned for him!