My Superpower Is Kind of Cute

Chapter 25: The Turtle Punch

“You can’t really put it that way,” Qi Yun said softly after a moment’s hesitation. “At the very least, I’m a mascot who can fight.” I rolled my eyes at him, thought for a moment, then asked sheepishly, “So does that mean I really have—you know—Qilin blood?” You can never ask a question like this too many times—it determines whether I’m still a normal person or not. After all, this whole thing came out of nowhere. Qi Yun nodded with absolute certainty. “Of course. Do you think I’d lie to you? Even if you were willing, I’d never joke about something like this.” He gave me a once-over from head to toe and added, “You still can’t fully control your spiritual energy yet, so the bloodline is temporarily confined to your arm.” “So you’re saying I have a ‘Qilin Arm’ now?” I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t exactly good news for me. What the heck is a ‘Qilin Arm’? That’s something you get from years of working out in your bedroom or bathroom—how could I possibly have something like that? If I went out like this, people would mock me to death. Qi Yun gave me a half-smile as I found that bulging arm increasingly annoying. “Is there any way to get rid of it?” Qi Yun shook his head. “I’m not sure about that. It should gradually fade away after a while. This is the bloodline of the Qilin—such a precious thing, and yet you’re so reluctant to accept it.” I shot him a glance. “This thing’s account-bound anyway. Otherwise, I’d just give it to you.” To be honest, aside from proving I’ve been single for over twenty years, I really can’t see what’s so great about this Qilin arm. “You’ve got some nerve saying that. Back when you turned into this Wu Dalang lookalike, weren’t you practically ready to kill yourself? Now it looks like you’ve adapted just fine.” “How can that be the same? At least I can still change back to how I was before. What if the Qilin Arm can’t be reversed?” “How should I know? Go ask an expert.” Me: “……” Qi Yun cleared his throat and said, “But now that your bloodline has begun to awaken, I need to make sure to protect you properly.” I was instantly amused by his remark. “Damn, you make it sound like all those past incidents were my own doing because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself!” “It’s too late to argue about that now. I’m going to teach you a set of boxing techniques right this minute.” Qi Yun sidestepped the issue, brushing off his own dark past with nonchalance. “What kind of fist technique?” To be honest, he’d successfully changed the subject. My attention was now entirely focused on what he’d just said. Having read so many novels, I was familiar with all sorts of bizarre martial arts styles—the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Fists, the Nine Yang Divine Fist, Li Xiaofei’s Flying Fist… I knew them all. If nothing else, he could teach me the “Give Me Back My Good Looks Fist”—then I’d switch careers on the spot and open a plastic surgery clinic. Seeing the look of curiosity on my face, Qi Yun naturally wasn’t about to pass up this golden opportunity to show off. He immediately struck a haughty pose and pointed loftily toward the living room, saying, “Hurry up and clear out the area around here to make some space so I can show off my skills.” “Got it.” I nodded and quickly shoved the dining table, chairs, and sofa into the corner, leaving a small open space in the center. After finishing all that and wiping the sweat beading on my forehead, it finally dawned on me: Damn it, Qi Yun looks just like a 3D projection right now—he could practically walk right through the wall. Why the hell do we need to clear space? He could just start his performance right where he’s standing. This is clearly just a way to wear the kid out. Sensing my resentful gaze, Qi Yun cleared his throat and said, “Do you still want me to teach you?” I swallowed my frustration, nodded like a chick pecking at grain, and sheepishly walked over to the corner. “Take it easy, old man.” After a moment’s thought, I added, “Will it be really hard? How long will it take me to learn?” Qi Yun glanced at me and offered some heartfelt advice: “Watch carefully and learn diligently. The master can only lead you to the door; the rest is up to you.” With that, he had no time to spare for me. He walked to the center of the living room, took a deep breath, and with a soft shout, began his demonstration. I watched intently from the sidelines as Qi Yun continuously swung his fists in all directions. His fistwork was rough, bold, and unconstrained by convention; though it appeared chaotic, it actually concealed a lethal intent. Even from a distance, I could still feel a chill. Qi Yun fought with increasing vigor, sweating profusely as he gave it his all. But gradually, I began to notice something—I couldn’t shake the feeling that this set of forms looked strangely familiar. “Did you get a good look?” After finishing the routine, Qi Yun walked over to me, completely unfazed, and with an air of mystery, as if testing me, asked, “Did you learn it?” That’s when it finally clicked—I realized why his form looked so familiar. I slapped my thigh and looked at Qi Yun. “Were you just demonstrating ‘Turtle Fist’?” Turns out I’d been practicing it every day back in elementary school—no wonder it looked so familiar. Qi Yun looked a bit surprised. “You have that here too? We don’t call it that where I’m from. This style is called ‘Xuanwu Fist.’ Anyone from a three-year-old kid to an eighty-year-old senior can learn it. Doing a set when you have time keeps you healthy and helps with self-defense.” I rolled my eyes at Qi Yun and said, “That’s still ‘Turtle Fist,’ isn’t it?” Qi Yun, still not giving up, asked, “So have you figured out the key points yet?” “Do I really need you to tell me? The key is in one word—‘swing.’ Combine it with forward footwork to charge, then take turns swinging both fists straight down from above your head to create a slashing effect. Beginners who don’t get the hang of it just close their eyes and swing blindly, making it easy for their opponent to control them and counterattack. When fighting this ‘Turtle Fist,’ you must be fierce and aggressive. Keep your eyes open, lock eyes with your opponent, and when the moment is right, swing in—swing with all your might. that is the true essence of the Turtle Fist.” Qi Yun looked astonished—he hadn’t expected me to explain it so coherently. He clapped his hands and exclaimed, “You’re a quick learner. You’re ready to strike out on your own.” “Get lost. Is that all you’re teaching me after all this time? I learned that in kindergarten.” I glared at him exasperatedly, feeling a bit disheartened. It was like a rich guy promising to treat you to a meal—you’d be over the moon, fantasizing about all the delicacies he’d serve, only to end up with a bowl of millet porridge, and the exact same flavor you’d already had for breakfast. How could that not be infuriating? “Everything takes time—you can’t rush it. Don’t get impatient. Now that you know this Xuanwu Fist routine, I’m put at ease. I’ll teach you other moves later.” Qi Yun watched me with a smug grin, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, then turned on the TV and started watching it by himself. I sighed and, feeling rather despondent, rearranged the dining table and chairs. I’d given up hope anyway. The tone of what Qi Yun just said was exactly like my dad’s. When I was a kid, he used to say the same thing—that he’d take me to the amusement park. But by the time it closed down last year, I’d never even been once. I’ve always thought the reason that amusement park went out of business was because my resentment ran too deep… After resting at home for a day, I didn’t really feel like going to work the next day because of my arm. Using that as an excuse, I stayed home for three whole days without a second thought, ordering takeout every day. It felt so good to just stay in. Three days later, in the morning, I stood sideways in front of the mirror, still half-asleep, peeing. Watching my body return to normal, I nodded in satisfaction. But when I turned to wash my hands at the sink, I realized something wasn’t quite right. On the surface, I’d definitely reverted to Wu Dalang’s appearance, but that “qilin arm” was still there—and it seemed to have swollen even more. “What’s going on here?” All traces of sleepiness vanished instantly, and I stood in front of Qi Yun, grilling him with a fierce look. Qi Yun seemed to have been prepared for this all along. With the nonchalance of a pig unafraid of boiling water, he shook his head and said, “I don’t know. Go ask an expert.”