“Get lost already.”

Father Su muttered curses under his breath. Only after watching Su Jie close the door did he pull out a cigarette, light it, and take a deep, satisfied drag.

Su Jie stepped outside with a smile, slinging his large backpack over his shoulder and heading to the “Grand Ascent Combat Fitness Club” across from the park.

The club had recently opened, and Hua Xing was the sole proprietor. Su Jie held a 30% stake, even though he hadn’t invested a single penny.

The space wasn’t large—about 400 to 500 square meters—and couldn’t compare to “Starshine.” Still, initial investment had already exceeded two to three million yuan. Rent was high, and the fitness equipment was top-tier and costly.

Small gyms like this were everywhere—most opened only to shut down shortly after. The market was extremely limited.

People who could afford gym memberships usually had high expectations and preferred upscale facilities.

Even worse, small gyms had earned themselves a terrible reputation—people would sign up, and just a few days later the place would shut down, making refunds impossible.

By all logic, this gym should’ve been doomed. But once Su Jie stepped inside, he found it surprisingly busy. The crowd was made up entirely of combat sports enthusiasts, not your average fitness-seeking public. The storefront wasn’t open to walk-ins, either.

In other words, this was a high-level combat training facility catering to a private circle, with no service to outsiders.

When Hua Xing first pitched this business model, Su Jie immediately understood—it was a niche play. Traditional gyms were a dead end. Better to go the boutique, specialized, high-end route.

And the “high-end” here didn’t mean hardware—it meant software.

First of all, Hua Xing was a big name, a national-level fighter who had coached at “Starshine” for years and had deep connections.

Secondly, Su Jie had defeated Zhou Chun, one of the top ten ranked fighters. Word had already spread within the inner circle. A lot of people had witnessed it, and those who hadn’t were drawn by curiosity. Even skeptics wanted a peek.

In fact, this kind of elite, closed-door model was once hugely popular in Japan’s martial arts scene.

Hua Xng had told Su Jie that the once-trending “Aikido” was, at its inception, a closed-door research society founded by Morihei Ueshiba under the patronage of Imperial Navy Admiral Isamu Takeshita. Only high-ranking elites could join.

That kind of exclusivity created an instant air of prestige.

Because of this, Hua Xing’s gym had exploded in popularity within just a few days. Everyone wanted in.

Hua Xing was still vetting people.

“Brother, you’re finally here! So many people heard you beat Zhou Chun and have been dying to see you in action. I sent you a bunch of messages—didn’t you see any of them?” Hua Xing lit up the moment he saw Su Jie arrive.

“I’ve been in seclusion training. My phone’s been off,” Su Jie said as he looked around. Though the place wasn’t big, it had a refined, tasteful decor.

“I’ve set up a daily event—three challenge matches a day. You’re the reigning champ. Any student can pay to participate. One-on-one, or even two-on-one, three-on-one—it’s all fair game,” said Hua Xing. “Come check out the ring.”

He led Su Jie to the center of the gym, where a boxing ring stood—complete with a couplet hanging from the sides.

“Martial arts cultivate virtue and body; fists and feet tame tigers and subdue dragons. Banner: Young Grandmaster.”

Su Jie read it aloud, feeling a cold sweat trickle down his spine. “’Young Grandmaster’? That’s a bit much. Maybe change the banner.”

“Haha! Come on, you’re young—showing off a little doesn’t hurt. I was actually thinking of hyping you up. But if you’re not into it, then pick your own,” Hua Xing said, quick to yield.

“How about ‘Touch the Dao, Then Stop’?” Su Jie thought for a moment.

“Touch the Dao? That sounds too mellow, don’t you think?” Hua Xing mused. “Then again, it fits with traditional culture. We’re doing martial arts here, but it should be harmonious. Brute aggression never leads anywhere.”

“It’s not ‘dao’ as in ‘arrive.’ It’s ‘dao’ as in ‘the Way,’” Su Jie clarified.

“The Way? ‘Touch the Dao, Then Stop’—what’s that mean?” Hua Xing asked, puzzled.

“‘Touch’ means to reach for or make contact. The ‘Dao’ is the ultimate pursuit for us Chinese. The phrase means: unless we touch the supreme Dao, we won’t rest.”

Su Jie explained fluently.

“Perfect! Then that’s the new banner,” Hua Xing said, slapping the ring post. “Not stopping until the Dao is touched—now that’s poetic.”

Then he leapt up onto the ring, clapped his hands, picked up a megaphone, and projected his voice across the gym: “Ladies and gents! Didn’t you all want to see the man who beat Zhou Chun? Well, here he is—right on this ring!”

Whoosh, whoosh—

Everyone training in the gym instantly crowded around.

“I’m really that famous now?” Su Jie asked.

“Of course. Do you remember that fight between a martial arts coach and a Tai Chi enthusiast that went viral online? Your match with Zhou Chun didn’t hit the internet, but it made you a local legend. With the reputation you’ve got now, running a profitable gym is easy. If I do a little PR and push you into the spotlight, we could make serious money,” Hua Xing said excitedly. He’d been in this industry for a long time and had no shortage of insight, business savvy, or connections.

“Let’s just take things one step at a time,” Su Jie nodded. “As long as no one grabs any dirt on us, we’ll be fine. After all, you jumped ship from Starshine and took some clients with you. Qian Youguo’s keeping quiet because of your friendship, but Haoyu won’t let it slide so easily. They’ve got money and power—if they start playing dirty, we could be in serious trouble.”

“I know. I’ve got all the paperwork in order—permits, fire safety, everything. The fights are officially registered, everything’s above board. I don’t believe Haoyu can just trample the law like that,” Hua Xing said with a cold laugh.

“Still, better safe than sorry,” Su Jie replied.

“I came here because of your reputation,” a burly man walked up. “You’re the high school kid who beat Zhou Chun? I wasn’t there that day, but I saw the clips in the group chat. Didn’t look that impressive to me. How about I see for myself?”

“I knew you wouldn’t let it go, Old Liu. You’ve been grumbling about it for days. Now that you’ve seen him in person, you can challenge him however you like. My little brother here will take you on,” Hua Xing said. “You’re the first to step up, so I’ll give you a free match.” Judging by the way he spoke, Hua Xing and this guy were old friends. He turned to Su Jie and added, “Go easy on him. Old Liu’s my bro—he used to be a paramilitary police officer and now runs a building materials business. Total fitness nut.”

“Hua Xing, I don’t like what I’m hearing,” Old Liu grumbled. “Telling him to go easy on me? Don’t look down on me like that.”

“Haarrr!”

With a tiger-like roar, Old Liu climbed into the ring. “I’m ex-armed police, trained in real combat. Let’s fight without gloves. If you can really convince me, I’ll sign up to train every day—no matter the cost.”

“Fine by me.” Su Jie smiled and nodded.

The moment he spoke, Old Liu lunged forward like lightning—ducking low for a double-leg takedown, wrapping Su Jie’s legs in an attempt to lift him clean off the ground.

It was fast, sudden, and reckless. It had the flavor of a sneak attack, totally ignoring the rules of the ring—more street brawler than martial artist.

But that’s how paramilitary cops fight—anything goes when facing dangerous criminals.

The onlookers hadn’t expected Old Liu to move so suddenly. Some even cried out in surprise.

Swish!

Su Jie squatted in place and drove his knee upward!

Old Liu had just opened his arms when his face nearly slammed into Su Jie’s rising knee. One inch closer and he’d be bleeding all over the mat.

At the last second, Old Liu managed to stop himself—breaking into a cold sweat. He hadn’t expected Su Jie to react so quickly.

In fact, his face was less than a centimeter from Su Jie’s knee. With just the slightest push, Su Jie could’ve knocked him flat. But instead, Su Jie pulled back, dropped his foot to the floor, and lunged forward, shoulder slamming into Old Liu’s chest like a charging bull.

Old Liu was lifted off the ground and hurled into the ring ropes.

Before he could recover, Su Jie’s palm came flashing in, covering Old Liu’s eyes with a light smack before he retreated back to his original spot.

The match was over.

Old Liu had opened with a sneak takedown.

Su Jie countered with a squat and knee strike!

Then a bull-like shoulder charge!

And finally, a palm slap—the finishing move.

In truth, the squat-knee combo flowing into a lunge and shoulder slam was just the opening sequence of a technique called the “Hoe Strike.” So overall, Su Jie hadn’t used anything new—just relied on that classic move.

“Damn, that’s freaky,” Old Liu muttered, still not willing to admit defeat. “You’ve got the skills, fine. But let’s arm wrestle. See if you’re stronger than I am.”

“Sure,” Su Jie agreed without hesitation.

“Alright!” The crowd roared.

The earlier match had ended too quickly—no one had seen enough to be satisfied. Except for one person, whose eyes were gleaming with interest.

The two men sat down at a table. Old Liu stretched out his arm—his wrist, forearm, and biceps thick as tree trunks. They looked like they could crush a thug with a single flex. Veins bulged like earthworms beneath the skin, muscles ready to burst.

Su Jie reached out and grasped Old Liu’s hand.

Old Liu gave a sudden jerk—but nothing happened.

Then Su Jie gently twisted his wrist, and Old Liu felt like his whole body was about to be flipped. His hand was slammed flat on the table.

“Haarr!”

Old Liu’s face turned red. “Again! I’ll use both hands against your one!” As he spoke, he put both hands into play.

It made no difference.

Su Jie flipped him over again—just as easily, like turning a page in a book. Old Liu’s two hands were pinned just as fast.

“I give up. How the hell are you so strong?” Old Liu gasped. “Fighting is all about technique, sure. But arm wrestling is pure strength. And you’re way stronger than I am.”

“Old Liu, if you’re convinced, sign up for classes,” Hua Xing said with a snap of his fingers. “If we weren’t old friends, I wouldn’t even let you in. This place is about to get so popular the membership cards will be resold at sky-high prices.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep