Chapter 27: Flying Kick

On the dedicated karate mats.

Two figures stood in confrontation.

Fang Cheng held a red rectangular kicking pad in his hands.

Coach Shen stood three meters away, performing kicking and hip-twisting movements.

Surrounding them was a crowd of spectators, the type who never missed a chance to watch a commotion.

Coach Shen had stated that he wanted to test Fang Cheng's ability to absorb impact.

Furthermore, instead of having an elite student conduct the assessment as usual, he had stepped in to act as the striker himself, showing extreme seriousness.

The fact that a head coach of a department was personally stepping onto the mat immediately made this assessment much more eye-catching.

Xu Maocai suddenly walked up to Fang Cheng's side and whispered in his ear

"Shen Haoming studies the Shotokan style. He's a third-degree black belt, and his leg techniques are heavy—not inferior to mine. Moreover, he likes to use sneak attacks."

"Pay attention. Get into a solid horse stance in advance."

Receiving Xu Maocai's warning, Fang Cheng nodded slightly to indicate he understood.

Standing opposite him, Shen Haoming glanced over, his gaze faintly tinged with mockery.

He was the head coach of the Karate Department and also a close confidant of Manager Li.

Because Fang Cheng had refused Manager Li's recruitment and instead joined the camp of the long-time rival Xu Maocai, friction had developed between the two sides, leading to a rather unpleasant situation.

This sparring assessment happened to collide head-on with that grudge, and naturally, he wouldn't let it go so easily.

Shen Haoming's personal involvement was intended to make Fang Cheng suffer a bit.

Ideally, he would kick him hard enough to cause internal injuries, which would both vent Manager Li's anger and provide a legitimate reason to reject his application.

Although Fang Cheng had already demonstrated physical qualities beyond the norm through the previous push-up test, being a sparring partner required more than just good stamina.

Shen Haoming was a runner-up in the individual kumite category of the National Karate Championships. Though he had been retired for many years, his combat effectiveness had not diminished much.

Dealing with an amateur like this should be a piece of cake, right?

With this thought, Shen Haoming's gaze suddenly sharpened and became intensely focused.

He then assumed the *Yoko-geri* combat stance, turning sideways to face Fang Cheng, and ground the ball of his right foot against the floor.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready—"

Just as Fang Cheng nodded, a figure suddenly rushed forward like a gale.

While the two were speaking, Shen Haoming had already twisted his waist and lifted his leg, building up power for the launch.

He took a few quick running steps forward and, using the force of his right foot pushing off the ground, launched himself into the air to deliver a flying kick.

Among the most powerful karate leg techniques are the *Mawashi-geri* (roundhouse kick) and the *Mae-geri* (front kick), but in terms of vertical impact force, nothing could surpass the "Flying Side Kick."

In Sanda, it is known as the jumping side kick!

He used his ultimate move right from the start, treating Fang Cheng almost like a stationary human target.

Fang Cheng clenched his hands into fists, gripping the handles of the kicking pad firmly, and held it high above his chest.

*Bang!*

Even through the padding, the massive impact penetrated the foam filling, traveling through his arms, shoulders, and even into his internal organs.

Fang Cheng's entire body shuddered, and he immediately took a half-step back.

By doing so, he slightly dissipated the impact energy to withstand this heavy and powerful flying kick, while also demonstrating the solidity of his lower body.

Hundreds of squats every day were not done in vain!

Having taken the kick head-on, Fang Cheng's eyes darted quickly.

He saw that the moment Shen Haoming's foot landed, his entire body was full of openings and flaws.

For a split second, he wanted to drop the pad, grab Shen's waist and legs, and deliver a heavy hip throw of his own.

But on second thought, Fang Cheng suppressed the impulse.

To learn boxing, one must first learn how to take a hit, and the same applied to being a sparring partner.

Shen Haoming regained his footing and quickly adjusted his steps.

Seeing that Fang Cheng had not been sent flying by his heavy kick, he couldn't help but frown, wanting to continue his attack.

At that moment, a wave of surprised questioning rose from the sidelines.

"Old Shen, exactly how much force did you just use?"

"Did you skip breakfast? You put on such a big show, and that's it? Just that?"

The other coaches rushed forward, surrounding the two to voice their opinions.

Seeing that Shen Haoming had even used a flying kick, yet Fang Cheng remained composed, they began to doubt whether the old fellow was intentionally holding back.

Or perhaps he was just showing off his graceful leg techniques in front of everyone.

Shen Haoming took a deep breath and stared intently at Fang Cheng.

Then, with a slight smile, he said

"The young man is quite good; he managed to take half of my power."

The other coaches immediately understood, nodding in agreement and offering praise.

They remarked that Shen Haoming's kick could break a training post as thick as a bowl, and being able to withstand half of his power with protective gear was an excellent performance.

Even among professional athletes, he would definitely be considered upper-middle tier.

Fang Cheng was somewhat surprised by this.

If half his power was this great, he might truly be kicked flying if Shen used his full strength.

Top-tier professionals were truly terrifying...

Fang Cheng took a sharp breath, and then his blood surged, making him even more excited.

The intensity of his gaze toward Shen Haoming was so strong that the latter couldn't help but turn his head to avoid the burning stare.

"So, he passes the assessment this time, right?"

A coach who seemed to appreciate talent asked on Fang Cheng's behalf.

"How about testing his punching power? There's a boxing force gauge over there."

Another thin, dark-skinned Muay Thai coach seemed unsatisfied.

Xu Maocai quickly countered

"He's not a boxer; why test that?"

"Old Xu, you're wrong about that."

Coach Hu suddenly interjected: "With Fang Cheng's physical conditioning, he has more than enough potential to fight professionally."

Xu Maocai asked coldly, "Are you planning to fund his training?"

Coach Hu gave a wry smile

"If Fang Cheng were a bit younger, it might be possible. But now, I think being a sparring partner is quite suitable."

Fighting professionally wasn't as simple as just signing up, stepping into the ring, winning, and collecting prize money.

The upfront preparation costs included salaries for a team of professional coaches, strength and conditioning coaches, sparring partners, nutritionists, physiotherapists, and so on, as well as equipment and venue rental fees for daily training.

In addition, one needed to purchase high-cost health insurance to deal with potential injuries during matches.

Otherwise, one wouldn't even have the qualifications to register and enter a competition.

To be honest, every famous boxer could be viewed as a walking gold mine.

Since the coaching staff was in unanimous agreement regarding Fang Cheng's performance, Shen Haoming did not continue to be difficult or try to make things hard for him.

He readily signed his name on the personnel agreement.

Seeing this, the onlookers dispersed amidst various discussions.

Those waiting for class continued to wait, and those exercising continued their training.

Xu Maocai patted Fang Cheng on the shoulder, offered a word of encouragement, and then left.

The coaches departed one after another.

Fang Cheng, surrounded by several colleagues from the logistics department, also headed toward the locker room.

He had broken a slight sweat; since he had no class for a while, he might as well take a shower and relax.

On the karate mats.

Only Shen Haoming remained standing in place, motionless for a long time.

As he saw the people walking away, he suddenly twitched his right toes, curled his lip, and sucked in a breath of air.

"Hiss—"

As if he had stepped on a nail, Shen Haoming's face contorted in pain.

That flying side kick he just performed was indeed stylish.

But when his foot hit the kicking pad, it felt as if he had struck a hunk of iron hidden inside the shock-absorbing layer.

If it weren't for the need to maintain his dignity as an expert, he almost would have cried out in pain.

"Are this kid's fists not made of flesh?"

Shen Haoming was speechless.

With his years of combat experience, he didn't even need to look down to know that his sole would surely be bruised.