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Chapter 31: Hong Quan vs Iron Shirt

Iron Shirt is an extremely classic external skill.

Its difficulty does not lie in the practitioner's talent or understanding. The only requirement is to be able to endure the pain brought by physical training for a long time and thus break the limit.

The most notable feature of the iron vest is the high toughness of the skin and the extremely strong ability to withstand blows all over the body.

As the saying goes, if you want to hit someone, you must get hit first. Other martial arts also provide training in the ability to withstand blows, but they are not as rigorous as the iron shirt.

At the same time, the Iron Shirt is also extraordinary in terms of strength enhancement.

Overall, people who practice Iron Shirt often have outstanding combat abilities.

Yan Zhendong attacked first, his fists carrying the wind and his momentum like a rainbow.

Hong Chen neither retreated nor gave in, and connected fists.

Fists bumped together.

Yan Zhendong took several steps back, but Hong Chen remained motionless.

Huang Feihong's eyes lit up.

Yan Zhendong stood up quickly, his eyes full of surprise.

Hong Chen loosened his aching fist and looked at Yan Zhendong's fist, but he could not see anything abnormal about the other party.

The Iron Shirt is indeed unique.

Then, Hong Chen took the lead in the attack.

The two men fought back and forth.

Fists and palms created the wind, legs and feet fought, luck was used to boost strength, and shouts continued.

Gradually, Hong Chen no longer stuck to the Hung Gar routine and incorporated Baguazhang and Wing Chun moves and concepts into it.

Huang Feihong felt more and more amazed as he watched.

"What father said in the letter was still conservative. My junior brother has mastered Hung Gar, and is also proficient in Bagua and Wing Chun. He is just one step away from becoming a grandmaster." He spoke with emotion and nodded as he spoke.

"What?" Aunt Thirteen looked over.

Huang Feihong shook his head: "You won't understand if I tell you too much. You just need to know that Junior Brother is very powerful."

Aunt Thirteen nodded in agreement, stretched out her hand to hug Huang Feihong's arm, and said like a spoiled child: "Although I don't know kung fu, but they fought so fiercely and looked so fierce."

Huang Feihong's body stiffened, and he secretly glanced at Aunt Thirteen, then quickly looked away and watched the battle scene. He said seriously, "I'm afraid my junior brother stayed behind. He should be honing his kung fu."

"Hmm? Didn't they fight to a draw?"

Huang Feihong shook his head slightly: "I feel that Junior Brother can be even faster."

In his eyes, one can discover many things that outsiders cannot perceive.

Hong Chen's whole body was filled with strength, which he contained but did not release. Facing Yan Zhendong's attack, whether he blocked or counterattacked, it was always just right, without any mistake.

But this is not a set piece for filming, why would there be so many collisions?

When masters fight, victory or defeat, or even life or death, often happens in a matter of seconds.

So, either Yan Zhendong was cooperating, or Hong Chen was deliberately holding back.

The former was of course impossible, because Yan Zhendong's attack was as violent as the waves, his expression was difficult to control, and he was obviously using all his strength.

Looking at Hong Chen again, his face was firm, his eyes were calm, and he was able to move forward and backward freely.

It goes without saying who is better.

Thirteenth Aunt nodded ignorantly. She slightly raised her head to look at Huang Feihong's profile, her eyes shining and the corners of her mouth raised.

Huang Feihong had a keen sense of perception, so he knew that she was peeking at him. However, he did not dare to move and could only pretend to be calm.

In the field.

Hong Chen's hands were formed into tiger claws, and he attacked alternately and continuously, while his feet kept approaching Yan Zhendong's position.

Yan Zhendong retreated while swinging his fists quickly, confronting the tiger claws head-on without showing any weakness!
Two people and four hands worked so fast that a series of afterimages appeared.

"How amazing!" Aunt Thirteen exclaimed in a low voice.

When Yan Zhendong was about to be forced against the wall, he suddenly changed his moves and used his elbows instead of fists.

Hong Chen followed suit and changed his moves, raising his tiger claws and elbowing to meet the attack.

The Iron Shirt is hard, and the Hung Gar is also hard!

The iron shirt is hard because of the body, and the Hung Gar is hard because of the fighting style!

Use palm to break palm, use bridge to cross the bridge, use fist to fight fist, use elbow to fight elbow, use foot to eliminate foot!

Other styles of boxing, such as Wing Chun, use elbows against fists, and their fundamental concepts are different.

With his elbows colliding, Yan Zhendong no longer resisted, but used the force to quickly retreat. However, Hong Chen's strength was also extraordinary. He retreated too violently, and his back collided violently with the wall, making a dull sound. The wall suddenly shook and dust flew up.

Yan Zhendong's face suddenly swelled up and his eyeballs bulged slightly, but fortunately his mouth was kept tightly closed so he did not leak out.

Then he lunged forward and rolled on the spot, changing his position and creating some distance.

Confrontation.

Yan Zhendong took the time to adjust his breathing, with a look of shock on his face. He never expected that Hong Chen, who looked so young, actually had such skills.

Hong Chen seemed calm, but he was actually feeling uncomfortable.

The force is mutual. Logically speaking, if he felt pain, Yan Zhendong should not feel much better.

However, the Dacheng Iron Shirt not only gave Yan Zhendong a strong ability to withstand blows, but the long-term pain also greatly improved his tolerance. In addition, the iron shirt's own strength-generating skills offset some of the pain.

Hong Chen estimated that if the pain he felt was on a scale of ten, then Yan Zhendong's was at most five.

This is just the Iron Shirt at the advanced stage. How strong would it be if it were at the Grandmaster level?
Of course, the number of Iron Shirt masters since ancient times can be counted on two hands, because people who practice this kind of horizontal iron external skills usually have a shorter lifespan, and most people die before they can become a master.

"Master Hong, it seems that I won't be able to get one thousand taels today, but one hundred taels is enough for me to open a martial arts school. Can you let me see how strong you are?" Yan Zhendong suddenly spoke.

Hong Chen saw that Yan Zhendong had reached his limit, so he nodded.

Seeing this, Yan Zhendong suddenly gathered his strength, rushed forward, and his fists were like guns.

Hong Chen raised his arm and clenched his fist.

Four more punches!!
Instantly, Hong Chen's cheeks flushed red, and the severe pain from his fist shocked his nerves.

Yan Zhendong's endurance limit was finally broken. His fists loosened and trembled uncontrollably, his facial features were wrinkled and his face was ferocious.

Hong Chen endured the pain.

Progress, force the horse.

Gold-dividing hammer!
The arms suddenly opened like an arrow shot from a bow, and then returned like a spring.

Hit Yan Zhendong right in the chest!
puff!
A powerful force surged in Yan Zhendong's chest, and the blood that suddenly pumped out instantly broke through the blockade of his teeth and lips, spraying into a fine blood mist.

At the same time, Yan Zhendong's back was bent like a shrimp, his feet were almost off the ground, and his body flew nearly ten feet before suddenly landing on the ground.

He lay on the ground with bloodshot eyes, staring at Hong Chen in horror.

His vision suddenly blurred and he immediately fell into unconsciousness.

The word "war" above Yan Zhendong's head shattered and turned into golden light that rushed into Hong Chen's right hand.

At the same time, Hong Chen felt an itch between his eyebrows, as if he was about to grow eyes.

He stood up straight, rubbed his eyebrows, and then grimaced and shook his aching arms.

"Brother, please help look after him. I'm holding back, so he shouldn't die."

Huang Feihong's eyes twitched wildly. He was holding back. What would happen if you used all your strength?

Of course, he was also very clear that the force that could knock a person away was not necessarily the strongest force, but the force that could knock a person away without moving was definitely an extremely injurious or even murderous force.

He rushed forward quickly, squatted down and took Yan Zhendong's pulse.

After a long while, he breathed a sigh of relief: "Fortunately, although my internal organs were shaken, they were not broken."

Hong Chen rubbed his arm and said, "That's good."

"What's good about that? He'll have to stay in bed for at least a month and recuperate for half a year. He definitely won't be able to fight anyone within a year." Huang Feihong looked at him unhappily.

Unexpectedly, Hong Chen smiled even more deeply: "That's even better. He has an extreme personality, is stubborn and obstinate, and his eyes are often cruel and indifferent. This year should be a time for him to cultivate his character."

It just so happened that one year was enough time for Yan Zhendong to teach him all the skills of the iron shirt.

Huang Feihong raised his eyebrows: "Did you do this on purpose?"

Hong Chen spread his hands: "He said he wanted to see how strong I am."

Huang Feihong shook his head helplessly, stretched out his hand to pick up Yan Zhendong, and shouted to the side: "A Su, stop being in a daze, prepare the medicine!"

Yacasu, who had been hiding behind a pillar and was in shock after watching the whole process, finally came to his senses at this time.

"Achen, come here too, I'll put some ointment on you."

"No need, senior brother. I still have some good medicine given by my master. I will go back and take a bath, and then wipe myself." After saying that, Hong Chen went to his own courtyard.

As he walked, he looked down at his right hand.

At first glance, his brows couldn't help but frown.

There is only half a circle of gold on the wrist.

(End of this chapter)