Chapter 16 – Learning Kung Fu
When Hannah came out after her shower, Evan was sitting on the sofa watching television.
It had to be said.
Hannah was absurdly beautiful.
Even without makeup, she could crush half the women who called themselves beauties. Her face was clean from the bath, her hair loose, and the thin sleepwear made her look soft enough to touch but dangerous enough to ruin a man's sleep.
She walked to the single armchair beside the sofa, dropped into it with a small thump, and carelessly propped both feet on the coffee table.
"Tomorrow's Saturday," she said casually. "Where are you planning to go?"
Evan thought for a moment.
"Not going out for fun. I want to find a part-time job and experience life."
Hannah laughed. "Come on. Part-time job my ass."
"You work yourself half dead all day and earn barely anything."
Evan scratched his head with a smile.
"I just want to make some money and help you with household expenses. I live here, eat here, and don't pay rent. Feels wrong."
"Enough, enough. Don't be polite with me."
Hannah shifted on the chair and frowned slightly.
"If you really feel bad, come help me massage my legs. They're killing me."
Her calves had cramped strangely during the shower. Even now they felt sore and tight.
Evan froze.
His eyes fell on the two pale legs stretched across the coffee table.
"Huh?"
"Huh what? Come here."
Evan could only walk over. He placed both hands on her calf carefully, almost too carefully, like he was handling a priceless antique that might sue him.
"Use some strength," Hannah complained. "Didn't you eat?"
Evan increased the pressure.
"Mm... that's better."
Hannah narrowed her eyes in comfort.
"Sitting in an office all day is torture. Nowhere to put my legs."
Then she suddenly remembered something and laughed.
"Hey, do you remember when you used to bathe naked in the river at the edge of the village?"
Evan's old face turned red.
"Of course I remember."
Anyone who grew up in the countryside knew what summer meant. The river would be full of kids swimming wild. Back then, Evan was still small. After school, he jumped straight into the water, and by coincidence Hannah was there that day too.
Not long after he jumped in, weeds tangled around his feet.
Country boys did not bring proper swimwear. Most of them jumped in wearing nothing and thinking nothing.
Seeing Evan thrashing and sinking, the other kids on the bank froze in fear. Only Hannah reacted fast. She dove in, swam over, tore the weeds away, and dragged the slippery little brat back to shore.
At this point in the memory, Hannah seemed to realize something.
Her cheeks turned red.
Evan's face burned too.
Hannah remembered clearly that when she pulled him up back then, she had discovered the boy was not exactly built like other kids his age.
Now he was grown.
Who knew what kind of ridiculous development had happened?
Both of them lowered their heads at the same time, pretending nothing had been remembered.
Evan honestly massaged her legs a while longer.
Finally, Hannah withdrew them and said she was going back to her room. She had to get up early the next morning to go shopping with a friend.
Evan was already tired. He took a cold shower to put out the heat in his head, then went back to bed.
That night, Wayne called and invited him to play basketball over the weekend.
Evan's hands were itchy anyway, so he agreed.
The next day, by the time Evan woke naturally, it was already noon.
Hannah had long gone out shopping.
Evan threw on some clothes, picked up the keys from the table, and went out to meet Wayne.
Playing basketball inside the trade college was impossible. The hoops there had already been bent crooked by the campus punks. So the two found an outdoor court nearby and joined a random three-on-three game.
Evan was good.
His movements were clean, his jump shot smooth, and he had the kind of handsome face that made girls on the sideline scream every time the ball went in.
During halftime, several bold girls came over asking for his contact.
Evan did not give it.
No complicated reason.
They were simply not pretty enough.
After the game, both were drenched in sweat. Wayne refused to let Evan leave and insisted that Evan teach him some practical fighting moves.
He dragged Evan to a quiet corner beside the court.
In truth, Evan knew no proper martial arts. Everything he had came from Jack, and Jack's teaching was a mixture of dirty street tricks, gambling wisdom, and things that probably should not be taught to children.
But Wayne called him big brother every five minutes.
Face had to be maintained.
Evan clasped his hands behind his back and put on the expression of an old master.
"Wayne, remember this."
"In a fight, the most important thing is momentum."
"No matter how many people stand opposite you, even if it's an army, your spine has to stay straight."
"If you lose courage before the fight starts, no unbeatable technique in the world can save you."
"Once momentum leaks away, your fists lose power. Everything becomes soft."
Wayne nodded again and again, serious as if he were listening to a sacred lecture.
Evan continued making things up while demonstrating.
"When you punch, it can look light."
"But the moment it touches, bang, the force goes inside."
"There's a saying. Listen carefully."
"Hands like iron. Wrists like cotton. Both arms like whips."
"Snap, and the hidden force sinks into the bone."
As he spoke, Evan suddenly punched the trunk of a tree beside the planting bed.
Leaves shook down in a small shower.
Wayne stared.
"Holy hell. Amazing, big brother."
The truth was, Evan had stolen most of that speech from a so-called master he once saw on television. He had barely changed the lines.
Unexpectedly, it truly fooled Wayne.
Evan patted Wayne's shoulder with aged wisdom.
"Don't bite off more than you can chew. Practice the essence first."
"Learn this properly, and you'll become silent with skill."
Evan then sat nearby and smoked at leisure.
Wayne became possessed.
He kept muttering, "Hands like iron, wrists like cotton, arms like whips," while throwing wild punches at the air for an entire afternoon.
Only when the sky was nearly dark did Wayne finally tire himself out.
With a grand wave, he insisted on treating his big brother to a good meal. After eating, he even wanted to go get foot massages to relax.
Evan narrowed his eyes and studied the fat man.
"Buddy, do you have money?"
"Dinner I can understand. Foot massage too? Where did you get so much spare cash?"
Wayne laughed and leaned in mysteriously.
"Went to an underground card room a few days ago. Won a little."
"Not much. About four thousand."
"Four thousand?" Evan was stunned.
In those years, four thousand dollars was enough to make a poor student's soul leave his body. Back home, a bowl of plain noodles outside school had cost almost nothing. Four thousand in cash was a mountain.
The two took a taxi directly.
Wayne, now rich and generous, led Evan to a proper northern-style iron pot stew restaurant. Evan had never eaten that kind of food before. Big ribs, thick sauce, corn flatbread stuck to the edge of the pot. He ate until happiness nearly came out of his ears.
Halfway through the meal, Wayne lowered his voice.
"Brother Evan, in a few days I plan to go again."
"Want to come play a few hands? Make some living money?"
Evan shook his head decisively.
"No. I don't touch that stuff."
In truth, Evan's gambling skills were absolutely not bad. He was, if anything, frighteningly good at cheating. Jack had taught him by hand since he was young. That old bastard had once turned fifty dollars into several thousand overnight in a village card room, enough to pay Evan's school fees.
But before Evan came to Harbor City, Jack had warned him with deadly seriousness: never use gambling tricks outside to win money.
If someone caught him cheating, hands could be broken. Sometimes worse.
Back in middle school, Evan had once gotten itchy fingers and used tricks to win a few rare game cards from classmates. Jack had hung him from a tree and beaten him with a belt until he remembered morality in his bones.
If Jack found out Evan had gone to an underground gambling den, he would take the night train over and break Evan's legs himself.
Author's Note:
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