PCJ – Chapter 480 The Miserable Martial Arts Training

“How long will this treatment take?” Zeng Lei asked.

Zhang Jiaohua scratched his head, “I’m not sure.”

The old man smiled, “No rush, no rush, it’s just a bit inconvenient to move around.”

Wu Yuan was quick on his feet, “Then just stay at my house. If you don’t mind, we can tidy up the place, and it’ll be livable.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have much to do lately. I’ll come to pick you up every day,” Zeng Lei said, worried the old man might be uncomfortable.

“If it’s convenient for Zhang Doctor, I can stay here. The conditions are quite good. Much better than when I was in the army, fighting and sleeping outside. I’m not that picky,” the old man said.

“You don’t need to ask me. The house isn’t mine; I’m just renting. If Fatty agrees, then it’s fine,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

“Zhang Doctor, how much is the medical fee? I should pay for it now,” the old man suddenly remembered that he had received treatment but hadn’t paid a single penny.

“I said before, the first three patients are free. He used one of those spots, and you’re the second. But I’m not covering your accommodation and meals,” Zhang Jiaohua glanced at Zeng Lei.

“That’s not right! You can’t treat someone without a fee. Zhang Doctor, don’t worry, I’m retired, I have public healthcare and a pension, so money’s not an issue,” the old man said hurriedly.

“But I can’t break my word,” Zhang Jiaohua smiled.

“Here’s what we’ll do: today’s treatment is free, but for any future treatments, I’ll pay. Otherwise, I can’t feel at ease,” the old man insisted.

“Exactly, Zhang Doctor, the old man hates owing people. If you don’t accept the medical fee, he’ll feel guilty,” Zeng Lei added.

Zhang Jiaohua smiled, “If you insist on paying, then fine. I’ll start charging tomorrow.”

That day, Wu Yuan and Zeng Lei finished tidying up the other rooms and bought some daily necessities, including a new set for Wu Yuan.

“Fatty, I’m entrusting the old man to you while he’s here. Don’t wander around. You’re in your twenties now; you need to start finding a real career, or you’ll never find a wife,” Zeng Lei said.

“You’re one to talk. You’re almost thirty and haven’t found a wife either,” Wu Yuan retorted.

“Fatty, do you want to challenge me? Just wait, by the New Year, I’ll bring a wife back, and you’ll be so envious,” Zeng Lei declared.

“Once I shed these 200+ pounds, I can marry whoever I want!” Wu Yuan said, saliva flying.

The next morning, Zhang Jiaohua woke Wu Yuan up by hitting him with a wooden stick.

“Jiaohua, Jiaohua, don’t hit, don’t hit. Let me sleep for another half hour, or even ten minutes. Just one minute will do!” Wu Yuan, wearing only shorts, had rolls of fat jiggling as he begged.

Zhang Jiaohua struck with precision, hitting the most painful spots, leaving bright red marks.

“Don’t hit, don’t hit, I’ll stop! Is it alright if I go do the stance practice?” Wu Yuan said, crying, as he ran out of the room like a rabbit. He quickly got on the plum tree stake and tried to hold a horse stance, though it was far from correct. Of course, he got hit again.

“Straighten your chest, tuck your stomach in, and extend your arms. Keep that posture, or the stick will make sure you regret it!” Zhang Jiaohua warned, making the stick whistle in the air.

Hearing the noise from the yard, the elderly man who had come for treatment hobbled out with a cane.

“Old man, what are you doing out here?” Zhang Jiaohua asked, surprised.

“I heard all the noise and wanted to see. Are you practicing martial arts?” the old man asked.

“Fatty insisted on learning martial arts from me. Now I’m teaching him, but he’s slacking off. Lazy people like him need to be punished. When I was learning, my master was even harsher than this…” Zhang Jiaohua stopped mid-sentence. Where did he get this master from? These memories were all from his cultivation path.

“Next time, don’t hit him so hard. You can see Fatty doesn’t have a good muscle on him,” the old man said.

“Yeah, I’ve been hit all over. It’s not martial arts training, it feels like you’re trying to kill me,” Wu Yuan muttered, nearly moved to tears by the old man’s concern.

“Shut up! If you’re a coward, you won’t improve. Lazy people like Fatty won’t learn martial arts without a little pain. Besides, I’ll rub some medicine on him later; he won’t have any marks left. Practicing martial arts isn’t just about punching and kicking. Enduring pain is part of the training,” Zhang Jiaohua said, giving Wu Yuan another whack.

“Ahhh!” Wu Yuan screamed but didn’t dare move.

The old man shook his head and went back inside.

“Old man, your legs aren’t doing well, so wait for me to finish my training and I’ll help you,” Wu Yuan shouted.

“Okay, okay. Just be careful not to get hit too much,” the old man called back with concern.

“Zhang Doctor, how did the old man get out here?” Wu Yuan asked in confusion.

“He wasn’t actually a cripple. His legs were hurting due to rheumatism, but now they’re not as painful, though he still walks with some difficulty,” Zhang Jiaohua explained, seeing that Wu Yuan had maintained his posture and didn’t need more punishment.

“So, your treatment for the old man yesterday was effective,” Wu Yuan said.

At that moment, Zeng Lei arrived riding a bicycle with breakfast in hand—fried dough sticks and soy milk.

“Huh? Fatty, this is a surprise. First time I’ve seen you up this early,” Zeng Lei said, ignoring the bruises on Wu Yuan’s body.

“I was forced up! Can’t you see my wounds? Police, come save me!” Wu Yuan was very displeased with Zeng Lei’s indifference.

“You deserve it. You think practicing martial arts is like having a meal? If I had a teacher like Zhang Doctor back in the day, I’d have finished the task without coming back all dejected,” Zeng Lei said, his face darkening.