The fourth-floor family room of the Wing Chun Academy was a sanctuary of polished wood and quiet focus, a stark contrast to the bustling training halls below. Huang Liang, Jack, and Reese Fisk stood before Huang Wen, the atmosphere thick with a mix of competitive tension and brotherly camaraderie.
"Junior brothers," Huang Liang chirped, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked at the two older men. "I can see the excitement written all over your faces. Since we're officially family now, isn't there something you should be calling me? You know, out of respect for the hierarchy?"
Jack and Reese exchanged a look. Jack, the sophisticated scion of a powerful family, and Reese, the heir to the Fisk name, were both older than the teenage Huang Liang. But in the world of martial arts, the "Senior Brother" was the one who entered the gate first.
"Senior Brother..." Jack muttered, his voice strained as if he were swallowing a lemon.
"Senior Brother," Reese echoed, his tone equally reluctant.
"Ah, music to my ears!" Huang Liang grinned, his chest puffing out slightly. He looked at Reese, whose sturdy frame hadn't quite slimmed down yet despite months of training, and then at Jack's broad-shouldered, athletic build. "Welcome, Second Junior Brother and Third Junior Brother. I'll let you decide among yourselves who is the pig and who is the monk from the journey to the west."
"Alright, A-Liang, that's enough. Stop teasing them and focus," Huang Wen interrupted with a chuckle. He knew exactly what the boy was doing—identifying them with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing. If Zhong Qiang were here, with his lanky build and quick movements, he'd fit the Sun Wukong archetype perfectly.
Huang Wen led them to the center of the room. This floor was the limit for most; the fifth floor was a restricted zone where Silly Girl monitored the base's core systems and Belle spent her quiet hours.
"A-Liang, let's see where you are," Huang Wen said, his voice turning serious. "How has the internal energy been flowing since I last checked?"
Huang Liang's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a focused intensity. "Master, I feel like a completely different person. Since the breakthrough, I've been practicing every night. I'd estimate my internal energy has expanded by at least fifty times."
"Fifty times?" Huang Wen's eyebrows shot up. In the memories he'd inherited from Bai Zhantang, only a few geniuses—like the notorious Mo Xiaobei—showed that kind of explosive growth.
Huang Wen reached out, placing a hand on Huang Liang's shoulder to probe his meridians. The sensation was immediate. The boy's internal pathways were no longer narrow streams; they had become wide, rushing rivers. The blockages that usually took decades to clear were almost entirely gone.
By Huang Wen's internal calculations, Liang's Qi was now equivalent to over a hundred points of stamina. He wasn't just a martial artist anymore; he was becoming a superhuman entity. If he faced someone like Logan, he could actually hold his own—not through raw strength, but by using his internal energy to strike acupoints from a distance, a technique that could paralyze even a mutant's healing factor.
"Your progress is incredible," Huang Wen said, pulling back with a satisfied nod. "But don't let it go to your head. When you reach five times your current capacity, I'll teach you the Sunflower Acupoint Hand—the same ability John uses—to give you a real offensive edge. And once you reach the Xiantian realm... well, that's when the real training begins."
"Xiantian..." Huang Liang whispered, his eyes shining. "Master, are you at that level now? What does it feel like?"
"You want to know?" Huang Wen smiled.
Suddenly, a wave of pressure erupted from Huang Wen's body. He didn't release his full power—that would have leveled the building—but he let out a concentrated burst of "Nascent Legend" aura. The air in the room seemed to solidify. Huang Liang's face turned bright red, and his feet slid back two inches across the floor as he struggled to breathe.
"This... is Xiantian?" Huang Liang gasped, his legs trembling.
"This is just the threshold," Huang Wen said, retracting the aura instantly. "With your talent, if you stay disciplined, you'll reach this state by the time you're eighteen. Imagine that—a Legend before you're even out of your teens."
"Eighteen..." Huang Liang's voice was filled with a new kind of hunger.
Huang Wen then turned to Jack and Reese. "Wing Chun is the foundation of our lineage. I told you I would pass on the experience and power of our style in a way that defies conventional learning. That promise starts now."
Jack and Reese felt a slight pang of disappointment—they were hoping for the "magic" stuff Huang Liang had—but they quickly suppressed it. To be a master of Wing Chun was already more than most men could dream of.
"Sit. Clear your minds," Huang Wen commanded.
The three sat cross-legged on the floor. Huang Wen opened his system interface. He had been stockpiling rewards, and he now cashed in three mortal-grade draws to synthesize a "Wholesale Ip Man" character pack. He didn't just give them a set of instructions; he channeled the raw essence of Grandmaster Ip Man's techniques and physical conditioning into their bodies.
For Huang Liang, the change was subtle. He already had the physical power; the pack simply refined his movements, giving him decades of combat wisdom in a heartbeat.
But for Jack and Reese, the change was explosive. Their muscles tightened, their bone density increased, and their nervous systems were rewired for extreme reflex speed. In the span of a few breaths, they had bypassed years of grueling physical conditioning. They opened their eyes, gasping as they felt a new, coiled strength in their limbs.
"Thank you, Master!" they shouted, their voices resonating with newfound power.
"You are now 'Ip Man' level fighters," Huang Wen said. "In a street fight, you could take on ten armed men without breaking a sweat. Jack, you probably feel like you could take on fifty."
"Fifty? I feel like I could take on a hundred!" Jack laughed, clenching a fist that now felt like a hammer.
"Don't get cocky," Huang Wen warned. "Power without control is just a loud noise. Liang, go down and help Master Ying. He's likely dealing with some skeptical students. Make sure they show him the respect he's earned."
"On it, Master!" Huang Liang leaped up, practically flying toward the door.
Once the boy was gone, Huang Wen looked at Jack and Reese. "You two are different from A-Liang. You live in a world of suits, guns, and shadows. Wing Chun is your soul, but you need a practical tool for the modern age."
He led them through a hidden door toward the underground base. "I'm going to teach you 'Gun-Fu.' It's a synthesis of martial arts and firearms—calculating trajectories, predicting lines of fire, and treating a pistol as an extension of your arm. By the time we're done, you won't just be gunmen; you'll be a nightmare for anyone holding a weapon."
As they descended into the high-tech shooting range of the base, the sounds of the academy above faded away.
Meanwhile, on the second floor, the training hall was deathly silent.
Five of the strongest senior students were currently sprawled on the floor, groaning and clutching their ribs. They had challenged the "old-looking" Teacher Ying, thinking his slow Tai Chi movements were just for show.
Ying Faming stood in the center of the mat, his hands resting behind his back. His breathing hadn't even quickened. He looked as calm as a mountain lake, his eyes kind but firm.