Chapter 146 - Opportunity (1) (1/2)

Translator: Lionwwang  Editor: Lionwwang

This place is very good. It always feels like a state-owned enterprise or an army. Everyone live in dormitories together, eat big pot meal together, the atmosphere is very cheerful.

In the evening, Silo takes me to the canteen. I’m a little amused to hear.

In fact, the canteen here is reconstructed by a warehouse, which has several rows of tables and chairs. Each person carries a plastic plate to the window to take the food.

The food is good. I’m very satisfied. I see Papa 8 is eating here too, but I don’t see Uncle 7, don’t know where he goes.

Papa 8 is sitting at a round table with five or six people, all men of his age, about fifty years old. They’re talking in a low voice while eating. Papa 8 has a serious expression and a somber look.

All the people here wear the garage uniforms. When they are carrying plates across the Papa 8’s table, they are unconsciously light-handing and dare not make a noice. I can see their respects to Papa 8 are sincere!

…

In this way, I’ve stayed here for two days and have waited for two days, but Papa 8 never looked for me again.

I’m assigned to wash the car these two days. My job is to wash the vehicles with the buckets of water.

I work in the morning, finish work at 3 pm, and then go to the gym with Silo and other brothers.

It can be said that when I first came here, I had a feeling of reassurance. The atmosphere here is very good. It makes me feel like I have found the organization and home. But two days later, I’m a little depressed.

Because I don’t come to Canada for washing the cars!

I don’t know exactly what Papa 8 wants me to do. But at least I’m sure of my own mind. I’ve traveled thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean, not just to be a car washer!

But in the afternoon when practice boxing with Silo and other guys, I am a little happier.

These rough men are very good people! I practice with them every day, occasionally fight once or twice with the glove and headgear, sweating all over, and then dozens of men take the bath naked. It’s also a kind of pleasant feeling.

Silo asks me how to make that heavy punch that day. After I hesitated, I tell him that my punch is a killing blow which was taught by my master. It can’t teach others at ease. It’s not that I’m stingy, but that I can’t break my Master’s rules.

Silo is a bit disappointed, but it doesn’t last long. I can’t teach him that punch, but I can teach him some conventional boxing. This kid is very athletic, born good on flexibility and coordination, and willing to endure hardships. Even when I teach him the pace at the beginning, he just murmurs a few bitter words, and then he grits his teeth to insist!

The other men look at us, and some of the younger ones are laughing wildly. Some older people don’t laugh. I can see that these people have visions, and they know that I have taught Silo the real kongfu.

After a week of being so heartless, Papa 8 still hasn’t come to find me.

These days, I can’t even see him. He doesn’t come to the canteen to eat dinner anymore. I even wonder whether he has forgotten me. I take every day’s work as vent, and even take boxing and practicing as vent! When I’m practicing boxing with those guys, I’m getting more and more irritable.

“Damn!”

With one side kick, one of my legs is sweeping past like a whirlwind. Although Silo has raised his arms to protect his chest, he’s still swept to the ground. He can’t help scolding, and then he’s lying on the ground and gasping for breath: “Are you crazy? How come you are like taking gunpowder these two days?”