However, such obsession also brought negative consequences. During the last three days of final exams, Charles Warren had no idea how he got through them. After the exams, he couldn’t remember a thing. Charles Warren felt that this round of exams was simply the worst he’d ever done.

　　“Heh!”

　　On the first day of vacation, looking in the mirror, Charles Warren felt that his temples were indeed slightly raised.

　　Moreover, his whole body was full of energy, feeling spirited at all times.

　　This change made Charles Warren feel exceptionally good, his confidence swelling, sweeping away his previous gloom, introversion, decadence, and awkwardness.

　　“My temples are bulging. In a couple of days, I’ll go to the provincial capital to see Miss Turner and have her teach me something new.” Charles Warren planned out his winter break in his mind. “What should I do these next two days? My kung fu has improved a lot, my temples are bulging—I’m basically a martial arts master now. I have to find someone to test it out on, otherwise it’s like wearing fine clothes at night with no one to see.”

　　Charles Warren had also read some old novels from the Republican era, which often described martial arts experts as “this person’s temples were high and bulging, almost an inch tall.”

　　Now, although his own weren’t as exaggerated as an inch high, there was at least a subtle change. Charles Warren felt to himself that maybe… just a little… he had already stepped into the ranks of the experts…

　　The slight change in his temples and his abundant energy made his confidence swell, and he was eager to find someone to fight, to test the results of his two months of training.

Chapter Six: Martial Arts Fighting! One Fight and It’s a Crime!

　　“Sigh, meat is getting more and more expensive. It’s almost twenty per jin now. Tomorrow I’ll take some money and buy a bit more, smoke it and store it. After all, we have to eat meat during the twelfth and first lunar months. Besides, Charlie has been eating a lot lately, probably growing. I should make something tasty.”

　　In the evening, the family of three was having dinner at home: a plate of stir-fried cabbage, a plate of pickled vegetables, a dish of tofu, and a dish of spicy pickled peppers. Charles Warren’s father sighed, his face full of exhaustion. He worked as a porter at a supermarket, leaving early and returning late every day, doing manual labor. In his forties, he already looked quite aged.

　　“Mm.” Charles Warren’s mother took a couple of bites, then put down her chopsticks and quietly pinched her clothes pocket. Her face was sallow; she had been ill last year. Although she recovered, it had used up what little savings the family had.

　　Charles Warren saw all of this, but he didn’t say anything, just silently lowered his head and shoveled rice into his mouth.

　　“I’m done eating, I’m going out for a walk.” Charles Warren knew the family’s finances were tight, but there was nothing he could do before. Now, however, his confidence had grown, and his mind was working faster, thinking about ways to make money.

　　“Go early and come back early, and watch out for cars on the road.” His parents reminded him, and Charles Warren agreed as he headed out the door.

　　The sky gradually darkened, but the night scene along the road was dazzling. Charles Warren walked and soon arrived at the South City Sports Center.

　　The area around the South City Sports Center was a mixed bag, full of video game arcades, billiard halls, and many taekwondo, karate, and Muay Thai training centers—but not a single martial arts (guoshu) school.

　　“All in!”

　　“Show your cards.”

　　“Ah, golden flower! Brian always has good luck.”

　　The raucous voices caught Charles Warren’s attention. Not far away, next to a hundred billiard tables, five or six people were playing cards. The leader was a bald young man in a leather jacket, with a knife scar on his neck, looking fierce.

　　Charles Warren recognized him—this man was called Brian, a local thug with over a dozen underlings, often extorting students and harassing schoolgirls outside the school.

　　Back in his first year of high school, Charles Warren once got a bit close to a female classmate. One of Brian’s underlings saw it and accused Charles Warren of harassing his girlfriend, forcing Charles Warren to pay up to settle it. When they saw Charles Warren really had no money, they slapped him hard a few times and kicked him.

　　At the time, Charles Warren swallowed his anger and didn’t dare fight back. Now, with his confidence swelling, he suddenly saw that the underling next to Brian, smoking and playing with a lighter printed with a naked woman, was the very one who tried to extort and beat him last year.

　　In an instant, Charles Warren felt his blood rush to his face.

　　Especially seeing the table where the group was playing “Golden Flower,” covered with stacks of bright red hundred-yuan bills. The sight couldn’t help but excite Charles Warren.

　　First, Charles Warren’s blood rushed to his face, then anger welled up in his heart, and his courage grew. He began to plot silently.

　　“A gentleman never lets a grudge go unavenged. Today I’m going to get my revenge—and make a little money while I’m at it.” Charles Warren thought quickly. “There are so many people—how should I do this if a fight breaks out? Should I knock a few down first? Grab some money and run? Or what?”

　　Charles Warren carefully considered all the possibilities, took a deep breath, and strode forward.

　　Everyone was focused on the game, passing hundred-yuan bills back and forth, not noticing Charles Warren at all.

　　“Bruce, it’s your turn to bet. I’m in for fifty!” Another little punk with red hair tapped the table at Bruce.

　　This Bruce was the very thug who had beaten Charles Warren before.

　　“Shut up, damn it.” Bruce seemed to have lost money and was in a foul mood, slapping the table hard with his hand.