Wenchi Master

Zhu Lang was running down the road, sweat dripping from his face. Behind him, his trainer Yan Jing followed on a motorcycle, shouting instructions.

"Come on, faster! You're slower than a turtle!" Yan Jing barked, revving the engine.

Zhu Lang gasped for air. "I… I can't… anymore…" he wheezed, his legs giving out as he collapsed onto the ground.

Yan Jing stopped the motorcycle and walked over, shaking his head in disappointment. "This is pathetic. Your stamina is horrible! How do you expect to win the Wenchi Tournament with this kind of endurance?"

Zhu Lang lay on the ground, panting. "I'll… I'll improve… I just need more time."

"Time? You have one month left!" Yan Jing shouted. "Get up! This is no time to rest."

After the grueling training, Zhu Lang went to work at the store. It was a quiet shift until near closing time when a group of men walked in. He recognized them immediately—the loan sharks.

"Well, well," one of them sneered. "It seems you've forgotten about your little payment. Two days late, Zhu Lang."

Zhu Lang's heart raced. "I… I was going to pay you. I just need a little more time."

The man took money from the cashing machine. "Why don't we just take this? Seems fair."

"No!" Zhu Lang protested. "That's not my money. It belongs to the store!"

Another loan shark stepped forward, grabbing Zhu Lang by the neck. "Listen, kid. If you don't let us take it, maybe we'll pay your mom a visit."

Zhu Lang clenched his fists. He didn't want to cause a scene, but this was going too far. "Fine, I'll get the money from home. Just let me go."

The man tightened his grip. "Do I look stupid to you?"

Zhu Lang grabbed the man's wrist and, using the Wenchi technique, twisted it sharply. The man cried out in pain and released him.

"I told you I'd get the money," Zhu Lang said firmly, stepping back.

The loan sharks exchanged glances, clearly unsettled. "Fine. We'll give you until tomorrow," one of them growled. "But if you don't pay up, you know what'll happen."

The next day, Zhu Lang handed them the money as promised. "This will cover the debt for now," he said. "But I'll have everything paid off by 2 months."

The leader of the group smirked. "You better. or else." They both left the alley.

At the gym, Yan Jing greeted Zhu Lang with a serious expression. "We're running out of time. You have one month left, and you need more than just stamina to win this tournament."

Zhu Lang wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What's your plan?"

"I brought in someone to help you," Yan Jing replied, stepping aside to reveal a woman in her early thirties. She stood with a confident posture and piercing eyes.

"This is Li Min," Yan Jing introduced. "She's going to train you in the Wenchi technique. From now on, you'll follow her lead."

Li Min extended her hand. "Nice to meet you. Let's see if you've got what it takes."

Zhu Lang shook her hand nervously. "Uh, nice to meet you too."

Yan Jing clapped his hands. "What are you waiting for? Go run!"

After another exhausting run, Zhu Lang returned to the gym, barely able to stand. "I'm… dying…" he muttered.

"Good," Yan Jing said with a smirk. "Now go train with Li Min."

During their session, Li Min observed his movements critically. "Focus your strength with the Wenchi technique. Put your full power into it."

Zhu Lang took a deep breath, concentrated

"Come on, faster! You're slower than a turtle!" Yan Jing barked, revving the engine.

Zhu Lang gasped for air. "I… I can't… anymore…" he wheezed, his legs giving out as he collapsed onto the ground.

Yan Jing stopped the motorcycle and walked over, shaking his head in disappointment. "This is pathetic. Your stamina is horrible! How do you expect to win the Wenchi Tournament with this kind of endurance?"

Zhu Lang lay on the ground, panting. "I'll… I'll improve… I just need more time."

"Time? You have one month left!" Yan Jing shouted. "Get up! This is no time to rest."

After the grueling training, Zhu Lang went to work at the store. It was a quiet shift until near closing time when a group of men walked in. He recognized them immediately—the loan sharks.

"Well, well," one of them sneered. "It seems you've forgotten about your little payment. Two days late, Zhu Lang."

Zhu Lang's heart raced. "I… I was going to pay you. I just need a little more time."

The man grabbed a bag of money from the counter. "Why don't we just take this? Seems fair."

"No!" Zhu Lang protested. "That's not my money. It belongs to the store!"

Another loan shark stepped forward, grabbing Zhu Lang by the neck. "Listen, kid. If you don't let us take it, maybe we'll pay your mom a visit."

Zhu Lang clenched his fists. He didn't want to cause a scene, but this was going too far. "Fine, I'll get the money from home. Just let me go."

The man tightened his grip. "Do I look stupid to you?"

Zhu Lang grabbed the man's wrist and, using the Wenchi technique, twisted it sharply. The man cried out in pain and released him.

"I told you I'd get the money," Zhu Lang said firmly, stepping back.

The loan sharks exchanged glances, clearly unsettled. "Fine. We'll give you until tomorrow," one of them growled. "But if you don't pay up, you know what'll happen."

The next day, Zhu Lang handed them the money as promised. "This will cover the debt for now," he said. "But I'll have everything paid off by 4 months."

The leader of the group smirked. "You better. Or else."

At the gym, Yan Jing greeted Zhu Lang with a serious expression. "We're running out of time. You have one month left, and you need more than just stamina to win this tournament."

Zhu Lang wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What's your plan?"

"I brought in someone to help you," Yan Jing replied, stepping aside to reveal a woman in her early thirties. She stood with a confident posture and piercing eyes.

"This is Li Min," Yan Jing introduced. "She's going to train you in the Wenchi technique. From now on, you'll follow her lead."

Li Mei extended her hand. "Nice to meet you. Let's see if you've got what it takes."

Zhu Lang shook her hand nervously. "Uh, nice to meet you too."

Yan Jing clapped his hands. "What are you waiting for? Go run!"

After another exhausting run, Zhu Lang returned to the gym, barely able to stand. "I'm… dying…" he muttered."

Zhu Lang took a deep breath, concentrated, and threw a punch into the air.

Li Min crossed her arms. "Your technique is sloppy. That's why your punches lack force. But you have good speed. We can work with that."

They trained late into the evening. By the end, Zhu Lang was drenched in sweat, barely able to move.

"I'm done for the day," Zhu Lang muttered, heading for the door.

"Not so fast!" Yan Jing called. "Run one more lap before you go home."

Exhausted and sore, Zhu Lang eventually made it to the store for his night shift. As he leaned against the counter, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off.

A sudden noise startled him awake. He turned to see a teenager stuffing food into a bag.

"Hey!" Zhu Lang shouted.

The boy bolted for the door. Zhu Lang started running after him but quickly realized his legs couldn't keep up. "Not again," he muttered, focusing the Wenchi technique into his legs.

With a sudden burst of speed, Zhu Lang caught up to the boy and grabbed his arm. "That's enough," he said firmly.

The teenager looked up at him, scared. "I'm sorry! I just… I'm hungry…"

Zhu Lang sighed and let go. "If you're hungry, just ask. Don't steal."

The boy nodded, eyes downcast. "Thanks… I won't do it again."

As Zhu Lang walked back to the store and finished his shift. After a long day he could finally sleep.