Fists can't cross Tianjin

Chapter 9 Gangzi

Chen Zhuo turned the corner, looked around, and only breathed a sigh of relief when he made sure no one was following him.

He pushed the cart and felt that the wheels were a bit heavy.

Looking down, I saw that the rear tire was flat. That frantic drive, plus that jump, had finally taken its toll.

"It needs to be repaired."

Chen Zhuo sighed.

He followed the winding alleyways until he arrived at a car repair stall.

The stall owner was a one-eyed old man, patching a tire on a Flying Pigeon bicycle. His hands were covered in grease, his single eye was cloudy and lifeless, and he was humming a Tianjin folk song, "Turning the Rivers and Seas Upside Down."

"...Nezha stirred up the sea, turning over and shaking the Crystal Palace..."

His voice was hoarse, carrying a sense of vicissitude.

"Grandpa, can I fix your tire?"

Chen Zhuo walked over.

The old man looked up and glanced at him.

"What's wrong?"

"The tire has been worn down."

The old man got up, went over and looked at you: "What happened to you? Did you hit a tree? Is it that serious?"

"To fix it or not?"

Chen Zhuo looked at him.

"It will take a while to fix."

The old man sat down and continued fiddling with the tires of the Flying Pigeon bicycle.

"Sir, how about this? I can borrow your tools and fix it myself."

As Chen Zhuo spoke, he reached for the crowbar in the toolbox.

"Hey, hey, don't move."

The old man pressed down on the toolbox; his hand was as withered as a cut old tree root, but his knuckles were frighteningly large, and he gripped the lid of the toolbox tightly.

"These days, your skills are your livelihood; you can't just let anyone touch them."

The old man slowly rummaged through the box and pulled out a rusty file. "Besides," he said, "the leather cup on your air pump is all dried up and can't hold air at all. I have a good one here, but it needs to be replaced right away and oiled. Seeing that you're in a hurry, I'll fix it for you first..."

Chen Zhuo frowned.

Replace the leather cup?

That's a reasonable excuse. Back then, air pumps were old-fashioned, and the inner rubber cups would easily age and harden, so they wouldn't pump air in at all without grease.

"Okay, please hurry up." Chen Zhuo suppressed his anxiety and glanced back at the alley entrance.

"Is it in a hurry?"

The old man chuckled, revealing a mouthful of broken, yellow teeth, and slowly began to remove the tire.

"Tire patching is a delicate job. As the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race. If you're in a hurry, I can't patch it properly, and it might explode on the way back."

As he spoke, he held the crowbar and gestured on the car rim for a long time, as if looking for the right angle to strike, hesitating and refusing to apply any force.

Chen Zhuo's eyes turned cold.

"uncle."

Chen Zhuo suddenly spoke, his voice low, "How many years have you been running this stall?"

"Oh, that's quite a while ago." The old man's hands didn't stop moving, but his mouth started rambling, "I've been here since before Liberation..."

"Since it's been sitting here for so many years, how come you can't even get the outer tire off?"

Chen Zhuo suddenly took a step forward, his murderous aura no longer able to be suppressed.

"Are you fixing the tire, or are you just stalling for time?"

The old man paused in his movements.

Chen Zhuo frowned.

Not right.

This old man isn't fixing the car; he's just stalling for time!

Trouble.

The net tightened.

"No need to fix it."

Chen Zhuo made a quick decision and pushed the cart to leave.

"I can't leave now." The old man put down his file, dusted off his hands, and a hint of mockery flashed in his one eye. "Young man, some debts, once incurred, must be repaid."

Before he could finish speaking...

A series of steady footsteps suddenly came from the entrance of the alley.

Click, click, click.

The footsteps were slow, but each step felt like it was treading on one's heart.

Chen Zhuo suddenly turned around.

At the entrance of the alley stood a man dressed in a blue cadre uniform.

It was the same fat, expert walnut player we saw at the edge of the square earlier!

The fat man was still fiddling with his pair of shiny lion's head walnuts, which made a crackling sound. Chen Zhuo glanced at his ears; the auricles were thick and deformed, like overcooked dumplings—these were "wrestling ears" worn down from years of wrestling.

In addition, Chen Zhuo glanced at his walking posture; he walked with his toes pointing outwards, and his lower body was extremely stable.

This guy is a real expert.

"Run?"

The fat man stopped, stuffed the walnuts in his hand into his pocket, slowly straightened his neat Zhongshan suit, and cracked his neck, making a series of popping sounds.

"Why did you stop running?"

He looked at Chen Zhuo, his face twitching like a vicious wolf that had finally cornered its prey.

"I'm used to sitting in an office in the factory's security department, and I'm usually too lazy to move. But who told you to mess with our recycling company's 'unofficial staff'?"

Gangzi took a step forward, his voice booming with a crisp, distinctive Tianjin accent, "Let me introduce myself. I'm Gangzi from the security department of the State-owned Factory No. 2. If you're a friend in the underworld, call me Second Brother. Hey buddy, which gang are you from? Give me your name?"

Chen Zhuo raised his head and said calmly, "A tricycle driver."

"A tricycle driver?"

Upon hearing this answer, Gangzi reacted as if he'd heard a joke, his thick cheeks twitching. "You dislocated Erga's arm, didn't you?"

Chen Zhuo took a deep breath and slowly let go of the tricycle handlebars.

Can't run away.

Since we can't escape, then... let's fight!

He slowly assumed the Three-Body Stance, his gaze darkening.

"I uninstalled it."

"What do you want?"

"How was it?" Gangzi grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth, and took a sudden step forward, making the ground seem to tremble.

"Those are Hua Mao's people. Even though they're just temporary workers, you have to consider the owner before you beat a dog. If we let some drifter from out of town bully us like that, where would we, who are paid by the government, put our faces?"

"Of course, the most important thing is that Erga is sensible and filial."

"I heard your technique for dislocating tendons and bones is quite interesting. Perfect timing, I spend all day in the security department drinking tea and reading newspapers, my bones are practically rusting, I'll give it a good workout today."

"So, either pay up five hundred dollars to settle this, or leave an arm to pay off the debt!"

"Judging by your appearance, you can't possibly come up with five hundred yuan..."

"Then today, we need to settle this score!"

Gangzi carefully tucked the walnuts into his pocket, then slowly and deliberately tucked the hem of his jacket into his waistband—a wrestler's habit to prevent opponents from grabbing the hem for leverage. After doing all this, he suddenly took a step forward, the ground seeming to tremble.

Then, his body moved.

A true expert's skill is immediately apparent.

This fat man looked clumsy, but he moved like a nimble cat. With a slip of his foot, his two-hundred-pound body didn't even make a sound, and he instantly closed in on Chen Zhuo.

"So fast!"

Chen Zhuo's pupils contracted slightly.

Gangzi feinted with his left hand, while his right hand, like a viper spitting its tongue, went straight for Chen Zhuo's collar. This was a "grip" in wrestling; once he got a firm grip, it would immediately be followed by an "over-the-shoulder throw" or a "back throw."

Chen Zhuo stepped on the "muddy step" and slightly turned his body to avoid the grab.

Three days ago, this depleted body would never have been able to keep up with this reaction. But after eating meat and practicing the "Three-Body Stance" these past two days, the major tendons in his body have been initially stretched, like a rusty machine being oiled. Although it can't run smoothly yet, at least it won't break down at crucial moments.

His feet dug into the ground, his spine trembled slightly, and a surge of heat rushed up the dragon straight to the back of his head.

"Hey, that's a bit sly."

Gangzi sneered, his moves shifting from old to new. His right hand, which had missed its target, pressed down, changing the grab into a slice, aiming straight for Chen Zhuo's forearm. At the same time, his left hand scooped up from below, aiming to grab Chen Zhuo's waist.

They attacked from both above and below, cutting off any escape route.

This is a "chain" in wrestling, which emphasizes sticking to the opponent's clothes and generating force; once entangled, it's impossible to shake off.

Chen Zhuo felt a heavy pressure coming at him. Gangzi truly lived up to his title of "Little Wrestling King." His muscular physique and years of fighting experience made him a formidable opponent.

If it were Chen Zhuo in his previous life, he could only rely on theory to dissect it. But the current Chen Zhuo has the blood of a Xingyi disciple flowing through his veins, and he has that cheat code in his mind that can analyze everything.

The moment that large hand touched Chen Zhuo's sleeve, countless pieces of information flooded into his mind.

"The opponent's weight is on their right foot, their left hand is feigning a hook, but the real force comes from under their right elbow..."

"His muscles were taut, his left big toe gripped the ground, anticipating that he would use his hands to manipulate the situation while simultaneously tripping her with a 'hook' of his foot..."

"The weakness lies three inches below the left rib, and the lower body momentarily falters!"

……