Since laying his cards on the table with his parents, Sun Sheng's life had entered a stable, high-speed state.
The 60,000-plus yuan earned from the stock market was like a spark, igniting a prairie fire of capital accumulation.
He didn't hesitate for a moment, investing all of this money into the next round of capital speculation.
He didn't put all his eggs in the Tencent basket.
Memories from his past life were an inexhaustible gold mine.
He clearly remembered that in late 2012 to early 2013, as the mobile internet wave was just beginning, several little-known companies would experience their first explosive growth.
Like a phantom hunter, he quietly laid out his strategy in the stock market, using a portion of his funds to purchase shares in a company specializing in mobile security software.
Another portion, through a slightly complex channel, was converted into 'Bitcoin,' which was then only worth a dozen US dollars per coin.
All these operations were done with extreme discretion.
In his father Sun Jianjun's eyes, his son was simply continuing his 'good luck,' spending a dozen minutes each day watching the market, and the numbers in his account steadily grew.
He didn't know that every move Sun Sheng made was precisely positioned at the forefront of future economic trends.
And the accumulation of capital was merely to give wings to his dreams.
Sun Sheng's true focus remained on the sweat-soaked mats of Zhenwei Martial Arts Gym.
Coach Zhang Lei became his most capable 'agent.'
Ever since witnessing Sun Sheng's terrifying strength, Zhang Lei had leveraged all his connections within the industry to find opportunities for Sun Sheng to gain real combat experience.
This circle was small but complete, operating between legitimate and grey areas, attracting all sorts of skilled fighters.
Sun Sheng's second match took place a month later.
The venue was changed to an internal boxing gym within a large fitness club, with more spectators and a slightly more formal atmosphere.
His opponent was a retired boxer nicknamed 'Iron Fist.'
This man was in his early thirties, with a robust physique, hands calloused from years of training, and was known for his precise and heavy counter-punches.
Many believed that Sun Sheng's elusive footwork would be greatly constrained against an experienced, pure boxer.
As the match began, Sun Sheng employed the same strategy he used against Bao Ge.
He didn't rush to attack, but instead, like a fluttering butterfly, he circled his opponent with light footwork, constantly harassing and testing the distance with jabs.
'Iron Fist' lived up to his name; his defensive stance was extremely tight, his chin tucked in well, and his arms firmly protected his head and ribs, almost completely unperturbed by Sun Sheng's jabs.
He was like a patient tiger, waiting for the moment Sun Sheng entered his effective striking range.
The opportunity arose in the second round.
After a feint, Sun Sheng suddenly accelerated forward, throwing a seemingly powerful rear-hand straight punch.
This was a long-planned lure!
A glint flashed in 'Iron Fist's' eyes; this was the moment he had been waiting for!
He shifted his body slightly, easily dodging Sun Sheng's straight punch with a standard bob-and-weave motion.
At the same time, his lightning-fast counter-punch, honed over more than ten years, shot out cunningly from his ribs, aiming directly for Sun Sheng's exposed chin!
The audience below gasped in surprise!
This was a textbook defensive counter-attack!
However, something unexpected happened to everyone.
At the moment Sun Sheng threw his rear-hand straight punch, his wrist made a tiny downward motion!
His fist grazed 'Iron Fist's' head, and his entire body's center of gravity plunged sharply downwards with the momentum!
This was a perfect duck!
He not only dodged the fatal counter-punch but also plunged into his opponent's embrace with the momentum!
Before 'Iron Fist' could react, Sun Sheng's body had wrapped around him like a python!
He encircled his opponent's waist with both arms, used his shoulder for leverage, and pushed up sharply!
A standard duck-under takedown!
'Iron Fist's' proud upper body technique became utterly useless at this moment.
His lower body, specialized for boxing, simply couldn't withstand the sudden impact of this grappling technique.
"Bang!"
The burly 'Iron Fist' was lifted entirely and slammed heavily onto the mat.
Immediately after, Sun Sheng, like a maggot on a bone, quickly secured a side control position.
He didn't choose to strike with ground and pound; instead, as his opponent struggled to get up, his arms moved like lightning, passing under his armpit and locking around his opponent's neck!
A guillotine choke!
His arm muscles tightened instantly, and the powerful strangling force immediately turned 'Iron Fist's' face beet red.
He frantically tapped the mat, signaling his submission.
The entire venue was silent.
If the previous knockout of Bao Ge showcased Sun Sheng's uncanny evasion and precise striking.
Then this match declared to everyone that this young man was not just a stand-up master.
He was a true mixed martial artist!
After the match, the host, microphone in hand, excitedly jumped into the ring.
"Unbelievable! Perfect tactics! From standing to the ground, our 'Kung Fu Kid' showed us what comprehensive technique means! He's like the all-powerful, heaven-and-earth-traversing Great Sage Equal to Heaven from mythology!"
"Let's all cheer his name — Kung Fu Dasheng!"
"Kung Fu Dasheng!"
The audience below, ignited by this distinctively Chinese nickname, began to shout wildly.
From that day on, the slightly childish title of 'Kung Fu Kid' was replaced by 'Kung Fu Dasheng.'
Although Sun Sheng still didn't particularly like it, it was better than 'Kung Fu Kid,' so he simply accepted it.
Over the next two months, Sun Sheng became the brightest rising star in the city's underground fighting scene.
He fought four consecutive matches, at an average frequency of one every two weeks.
His opponents had various styles.
Against a Sanda champion with fierce leg techniques, Sun Sheng used faster speed and more cunning boxing to penetrate the inside and knock him out.
Against a Judo black belt with tough physical strength and a knack for grappling, Sun Sheng used his ghostly distance control to prevent him from touching even his clothes from beginning to end, finally, when his stamina was exhausted, he was hit in the head by a precise high kick and fell to the ground.
Six fights, six wins, six finishes!
Four knockouts, two submissions.
Most terrifyingly, according to rough estimates from live spectators, in these six matches, the number of times Sun Sheng was effectively hit was zero!
He was like a ghost from another dimension, strolling leisurely in the ring; every attack from his opponents was like striking at thin air.
And every counter-attack of his was as precise as a surgeon's knife, hitting critical points.
The name 'Kung Fu Dasheng' Sun Sheng was no longer confined to this city.
Through the crudely filmed match videos circulating online, his name began to spread in the fighting circles of surrounding provinces and cities.
A mysterious high school student with ghost-like footwork, god-like reactions, and comprehensive skills became a hot topic among countless martial arts enthusiasts.
This day, when Sun Sheng finished yet another match and returned to the martial arts gym with 3,000 yuan in prize money and a body full of fatigue, Zhang Lei handed him a printed bank statement.
"Kid, this is the account you asked me to keep an eye on for you. Take a look yourself." Zhang Lei's expression was somewhat complex.
Sun Sheng took the statement; the total assets displayed on it had quietly broken through 1.2 million.
His snowballing capital had finally reached his preset goal.
The three-month deadline had arrived.
He had money, and he had a combat record tape that, while not of high intrinsic value, was extremely visually impactful.
The chips for going to America were all prepared.
He looked at the city night view outside the window, his eyes showing no ripple of emotion.
For Sun Sheng, all of this was just a warm-up.
The real battle was on the other side of the Pacific.
He picked up his phone and dialed his home number.
"Dad, I'm coming home tomorrow. Get the passbook and bank cards ready; the one million I promised you is here."
Warm reminder: The website is about to be revised, which may cause reading progress to be lost. Please save your "Bookshelf" and "Reading History" in time (screenshot recommended). We apologize for any inconvenience caused!
