Having confirmed that there was nothing seriously wrong with Chun-Li—she had only fainted from the searing pain—Dorai simply arranged for Chun-Li to rest and recuperate at the Han Court restaurant.
After that, Gen left Yang behind in the guest room to look after Chun-Li, while he himself went off with Dorai to discuss matters concerning the underworld and Shadowlaw.
Carrying over a basin of water and wiping the grime from Chun-Li’s body, Yang then silently mobilized the life energy within him to nourish her damaged muscles.
As for the life energy, Yang himself wasn’t entirely clear on it.
He only remembered that, on the night he had blundered into the duel between Gen and Akuma, he had awakened it naturally after coming to once more—right after a full meal Gen had provided him.
And as for this ability that Yang had awakened, even Gen—worldly and experienced, hailed as a living legend among assassins—found it greatly astonishing.
But it was only astonishment, nothing close to shock.
As a veteran of the assassination world, Gen knew very well that all manner of supernatural powers existed in this world—psychic power, the power of the Hadō, the power of the soul, the power of chaos, nature spirits… Including the ‘qi’ cultivated by martial artists, which was itself a kind of supernatural force.
And in Gen’s view, the life energy Yang had awakened was perhaps just one such power, one that belonged to Yang alone.
After that, Yang went on living and training at Gen’s side.
And today’s fight with Chun-Li… though it wasn’t Yang’s first battle, it was without question the one he had fought most seriously—and most satisfyingly!
Thinking this, Yang turned his gaze toward Chun-Li, lying on the bed.
Unlike the image people held of a Chinese kung fu girl in training garb with two buns in her hair, the present Chun-Li still wore her hair in buns, but her attire was utterly different.
On top she wore a navy-blue, sleeveless, high-collared cropped jacket.
Its collar, lapels, and the edges of its frog buttons were adorned with golden cloud patterns.
The high-collared design was crisp and capable, and the sleeveless cut left her firm, sculpted arm muscles fully exposed.
Below, she wore a matching set of navy-blue form-fitting training trousers, somewhat resembling the battle suits of superhero comics, but without a single superfluous ornament—clinging to her skin, accentuating the muscular lines and sense of power in her legs— Beautiful!
Yang couldn’t help but clench his teeth.
Long and shapely, rounded, packed solid and powerful, the explosive force erupting from them as thick as a log—at such a young age her kicking power could already reach eight hundred kilograms, easily able to clamp the once frail him between them and do squats!!
D-damn it, thighs like these… muscles like these… they’re so beautiful!
Yang could feel his fighting spirit surging wildly!
But… A little cricket-headed thing, and you dare so easily raise your flag, shaking the reason of me, Yang?!
He lifted a fist and struck hard at the demon orb.
Under the intense pain Yang’s face flushed crimson, the veins on his forehead bulging, but then he forced himself to endure it, channeling in life energy to forcibly heal it.
Yet barely had it healed when the demon orb raised its flag once more.
Anger turned to a furious laugh, and Yang threw another punch.
As a result, after recovering it grew even more rebellious!
Infuriated, Yang could only bind it down against his leg with his belt.
Damn demon orb—what’s the point of having such a rich imagination!!
But… was it really just like that old saying went?
Yang thought to himself—as the saying goes, even a hero struggles to pass the trial of a beauty.
To have become a transmigrator, to have arrived in a world like this, surely meant he was a peerless champion one in ten thousand, a supreme tough man possessed of boundless tyrannical will!
What trial could he not pass?
What beauty’s gauntlet could he not get through?!
How could there possibly be one he couldn’t pass?!
I’m going to give my own weak spot a proper challenge!
Amid these musings, Yang settled his mind and turned his gaze back to Chun-Li.
A moment later, Yang composed himself and gave a nod.
This auntie right now… is indeed still quite green after all.
Even her style of dress was straight out of that Street Fighter Alpha era.
Looking at Chun-Li, who even in deep slumber still looked so tender you could practically wring water from her, Yang nodded thoughtfully.
As the ageless goddess of Street Fighter, all the way up to Street Fighter 6, Chun-Li’s looks of course needed no elaboration.
But compared to her age, Yang was clearly more concerned with the level of skill Chun-Li displayed.
Just like her looks, it appeared somewhat green.
With a mere glance, Yang could already tell that, apart from her Kikoken, Chun-Li’s martial arts also incorporated techniques from schools like the Iron Wire Fist (Tit Sin Kuen), Hung Kuen, and Baguazhang.
Moreover, in combat one could clearly sense that she had reservations… This was a far cry from the grandmaster of Street Fighter 6, who had already blended countless techniques into a seamless whole and was hailed as ‘flowing like clouds and water.’ And beyond that, there were even more impressions and skills regarding Chun-Li… Thinking this, after a brief silence Yang hurriedly shook his head, wanting to shake out the image of Jackie Chan that had suddenly popped into his brain.
Damn ghostly brain!
What’s the point of such a rich imagination?!
Demons and monsters, begone; demons and monsters, begone… Having finally shaken off that spiritual pollution, gazing at the still-unconscious Chun-Li, and with idle time on his hands anyway, Yang simply summoned up his life energy and reached his pair of broad, powerful hands toward Chun-Li.
Lowering his hands onto Chun-Li’s abdomen, through the form-fitting sportswear, a deep admiration welled up in Yang’s eyes.
As one of the human body’s cores of power generation, the importance of the waist and abdomen needs no elaboration.
Connecting a person’s upper and lower body, the waist and abdomen are responsible for transmitting force in nearly every motion.
Walking, running, jumping, lifting heavy objects—in any action, the core muscle group of the waist and abdomen is the first to contract, stabilizing the spine and pelvis, providing a solid fulcrum for the limbs to exert force.
Like the pier of a bridge: if the pier is unstable, then no matter how sturdy the deck, it’s all to no avail.
And the Chun-Li before him—even in the deep sleep of total exhaustion after a fierce battle—Chun-Li’s abdomen still traced out a clear silhouette.
Firm and elastic, even through the clothing, the lines of her midriff remained exceptionally distinct, revealing the vitality of life.
The muscle lines of her flanks gathered in from the edges of her ribs, sweeping down to outline a smooth pair of iliac furrows, forming an angle with her hip bones, displaying a soft, exquisite balance.
Muscles this firm—so strong!
So powerful!
Clamping the past self to death would have been absolutely effortless!
But now—it’s nothing more than this!
At the thought, a flicker of pride flashed in the depths of Yang’s eyes.
Over the past three years, Yang had mostly been familiarizing himself with and mastering the many ways of using life energy—life cuisine being one of them.
Another was, after each day’s training ended, using life energy to relieve his own muscle fatigue and strains.
And this accelerated healing process would also cause the muscles to grow thicker and stronger as they recovered—this was the very capital that let Yang train diligently day and night without ever resting!
And the process was incomparably comfortable, too!
Sure enough, with the slow infusion of life energy, even while sunk in unconscious slumber, Chun-Li still felt as though her lower body were soaking in warm water.
The stagnation produced by the punches was swiftly dissolved by her revitalized flesh; even the organs in her lower belly gave rise to several wisps of warm current along with this subtle, comfortable sensation, drawing an instinctive, faint low moan from the unconscious Chun-Li.
Sunk in deep sleep, Chun-Li only felt that her originally groggy, all-around-uncomfortable self had suddenly been plunged into warm water; a wave of warmth surfaced from her lower belly throughout her whole body, and an indescribable contentment began to spread.
But soon, the memories of her childhood made Chun-Li quickly realize what this warm current might be.
And the moment she had just opened her eyes, Chun-Li saw Yang’s hands pressing against her lower belly.
This made Chun-Li instinctively try to sit up, but no sooner had she made the motion of rising than she felt her abdominal muscles wrench taut, and the intense stabbing pain came surging back, the shock twisting her little face in bitterness as her whole body went rigid on the bed.
Seeing this, Yang said: “Bear with it!
You’ve still got some stagnation here that hasn’t dissolved.
If you can stand it, just hold on a little longer.” The battle already over, Yang once again began working his qi-nurturing techniques, making his speech a little more gentle.
But to Chun-Li’s ears it still carried a strange undertone… Even so, Chun-Li could sense that Yang was doing his utmost to restrain himself, and so she nodded again and again—though from the looks of it she had no spare energy at all to speak.
As for Chun-Li’s present greenness and frailty, Yang felt no surprise.
Martial artists were people too, not monsters—much less a tough guy like himself, born to become a supreme powerhouse!
When a person concentrates their spirit, the body secretes large amounts of hormones, sharply dulling the sense of pain.
And after the battle ends—just like in those time-stop scenarios—all that suppressed, compressed pain bursts straight out, and it’s perfectly common to be knocked out cold from that single instant of shock.
As she cooperatively accepted Yang’s soothing, the muscle adhesions of her lower belly tugging at one another were touched and loosened, bit by bit.
Very soon, Chun-Li instinctively grabbed hold of the robust arm Yang had pressed against her muscle adhesions.
Amid violent trembling, a fine sheen of sweat visibly broke out over Chun-Li’s body, and then her whole expression relaxed, as though her very soul had been lost for a moment.
Kinda… felt good.