Chapter 388: Master and Disciple

Chapter 388: Master and Disciple

It was nearly four-thirty in the afternoon.

North District, Zunrong Donghai Huafu, Villa No. 36.

The basement gym.

Li Ruotai had originally fitted out this house for himself, so naturally it had every amenity. The basement gym held every kind of equipment, heavy bags and other combat-training gear included.

Mats had been laid over an open area by the north wall.

Wu Chen and Tang Xinbao both wore loose athletic clothes and boxing gloves, and both were barefoot. Tang Xinbao also wore headgear. Wu Chen didn’t… Tang Xinbao had no chance whatsoever of landing a blow to Wu Chen’s head. Not the slightest. Between them lay several whole levels of difference in reaction and combat awareness.

They were sparring.

For real.

Tang Xinbao had spent a week recuperating at Wu Chen’s place. He had actually recovered already. No bones or tendons had been damaged, only soft-tissue bruising, and his concussion had been very mild.

A few bluish-purple marks still showed on his face, not quite faded, but they no longer bothered him. The swelling was gone; only the discoloration lingered.

Wu Chen hadn’t been home for two days.

An hour earlier, the moment Wu Chen got home, Tang Xinbao had latched onto him, announced that his injuries had healed, and raised the matter of becoming his disciple again.

That was the whole reason he had been “camping out” at Wu Chen’s place.

For a super-rich third-generation heir of twenty-one who hadn’t even finished college, nothing mattered more than chasing his passions.

“Huff… huff…” Tang Xinbao was panting hard, his footwork already starting to stagger.

He was exhausted.

Fighting burned through stamina at a terrifying rate. The harder you fought, the faster it drained you.

They had been at it for more than half an hour, and Tang Xinbao had long since lost count of how many times he’d been put on the mat.

In one corner of the gym sat a small tea table and a sofa for breaks.

Zhuang Xiaodie and Guo Qiqi were there, cracking sunflower seeds and watching a TV drama together on one tablet, only glancing over now and then at Wu Chen and Tang Xinbao’s sparring… no, that wasn’t quite right. At Tang Xinbao getting beaten up.

At first, the two of them had watched intently.

Guo Qiqi had even been worried, afraid Wu Chen might hurt Tang Xinbao badly.

But after a few minutes they had lost interest. There was no suspense whatsoever. Anyone could see that Wu Chen was going easy on him, not hitting hard, just throwing him onto the mats again and again.

Nothing worth watching.

The drama was more entertaining.

Thud!

Tang Xinbao went down again. But he was tenacious. Though he was so worn out he was close to collapse, he rolled over and climbed back to his feet.

“Boss, again!” He brought his fists up in front of him once more, a little clumsily.

Wu Chen said nothing.

He didn’t mind. He had nothing better to do anyway. And having Tang Xinbao as a “sparring partner” was actually rather nice.

For Wu Chen, who had lived through a thousand-year loop, training his body counted as serious business. His body was the one thing that still wasn’t strong enough.

They started again.

Ring, ring…

A phone rang in the corner.

It sat on the little tea table, but it belonged to neither Zhuang Xiaodie nor Guo Qiqi. It was Wu Chen’s.

Zhuang Xiaodie picked it up, glanced at it, and looked up. “Mr. Wu, your phone…”

Wu Chen had been pulling his punches, pacing himself to put Tang Xinbao down once every two minutes. At her call, he suddenly sped up. He tilted his head to slip Tang Xinbao’s hook, stepped aside, caught his arm, turned, and threw him over his shoulder.

Tang Xinbao hit the mat.

“Let’s stop there. That’s enough for now. Take a break,” Wu Chen told him. He stepped off the mats, walked barefoot to the tea table, and took the phone Zhuang Xiaodie held out.

He glanced at the screen, turned, sat down, answered, and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Mr. Wu. Do you have a moment?” An Menglan’s voice came through.

“Sure.” Wu Chen smiled, then drew a deep breath.

He was still a little winded, with a few beads of sweat on his forehead.

It had been more than half an hour, after all. For Wu Chen, holding back was more tiring than going all out. At full strength he could have ended it in a few moves, but… he could hardly beat Tang Xinbao to death.

“Mr. Wu, I just met with Peng Wei,” An Menglan said.

“Oh? Really? That was quick,” Wu Chen said with a laugh.

“Yes. We met at Qingyuan Teahouse. We just finished.” She leaned hard on the words Qingyuan Teahouse.

The hint was deliberate. Peng Wei had told her he’d met Wu Chen at Qingyuan Teahouse earlier.

“Did it go smoothly?” Wu Chen asked, smiling.

“Very smoothly.”

“Good.”

A short pause. Wu Chen didn’t go on.

“Mr. Wu, isn’t there anything you’d like to tell me?” An Menglan asked at last. She put on a certain tone, and there was even a note of reproachful coyness in that rich, magnetic voice.

“Like what?” Wu Chen countered with a smile. “Didn’t you settle everything with Peng Wei? He apologized to you, and then… that was the end of it, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s over,” she said, then went on, “But all Peng Wei did was apologize. Apart from the apology… he didn’t tell me a thing.”

“What else did he need to tell you?” Wu Chen laughed.

“Mr. Wu!” Her voice rose, then softened into that reproachful tone again. “Can you stop keeping me in suspense? You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? You know what I want to know.”

“Ha.” Wu Chen laughed.

“Let’s set a time. Dinner’s on me,” she said directly. “I think we need to talk face-to-face.”

“Mm… all right.”

They settled on a time and place, traded a few more idle words, and Wu Chen hung up.

He set the phone down and looked up. Zhuang Xiaodie was sitting obediently beside him, sneaking glances at the propped-up tablet, but the moment she noticed him looking, she turned to him at once.

Guo Qiqi had already gone over to the mats and was sitting cross-legged beside Tang Xinbao.

Tang Xinbao was still flat on his back. Once Wu Chen called it off, he had let go, and the sheer stubbornness that had kept him upright drained away. He couldn’t get up.

He was too tired.

He lay there panting, feeling half dead.

He needed a while to recover.

“I won’t be eating at home tonight,” Wu Chen told Zhuang Xiaodie.

“Mm-hmm.” She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“I’m going to shower.” He stood. He had worked up a sweat and needed to wash and change before going out.

Zhuang Xiaodie stood up with him.

“Xiaobao, you okay?” Wu Chen called.

“I’m… fine, Boss,” Tang Xinbao answered at once. His breathing had mostly settled; he was just spent.

“Then that’s it for today. We’ll pick it up when there’s time.”

Still lying on the mat, Tang Xinbao turned his head to watch. When he saw Wu Chen heading for the door, he sat bolt upright.

“Wait, Boss! Did I pass?!”

Inside, he was practically panicking. He had pushed himself so hard precisely because he hoped to pass Wu Chen’s “test.” And then Wu Chen had beaten him so thoroughly… he had been utterly useless.

“You passed,” Wu Chen said, still walking, not even looking back.

“Then… Boss! Can I be your disciple? You’re taking me on, right?” Tang Xinbao shouted after him.

“I am.”

By the time the words were out, Wu Chen was already through the gym door. Zhuang Xiaodie followed him out.

“Yes!” Tang Xinbao pumped his fist.

As master-disciple arrangements went, it felt remarkably offhand.

Wu Chen wanted to keep it simple. He had planned it all in advance; once the time was right, he would take Tang Xinbao on. Tang Xinbao, for his part, didn’t care in the least whether there was any formal ceremony. Wu Chen had said yes, and that was all that mattered. A peerless master had accepted him as a disciple. He was genuinely beside himself.

Wu Chen went upstairs to shower.

Zhuang Xiaodie followed him into the bathroom.

A little over half an hour later, he came downstairs fully dressed.

He headed out.

Another ten-odd minutes passed.

Wu Chen was still on the road, driving to meet An Menglan.

Ring, ring…

His phone.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he picked it up with the other and glanced at the screen. One eyebrow lifted slightly.

Caller ID: Lu Guangnian.

They hadn’t been in touch for several days; both of them had been busy. The sudden call took Wu Chen a little by surprise, and he couldn’t tell whether something urgent had come up.

He answered.

“Hello, Brother Lu.”