137: Chapter 134 Passionate Martin

For one thing, he really didn't want to get involved with her, and for another, he truly didn't have the contact information she was asking for; he would have to get a local SIM card once he reached San Francisco.

Of course, his old SIM card would work, but there might be some obstacles with local communications here.

The journey was uneventful; although the service on the plane was quite good, after getting used to it, he felt it wasn't very interesting.

Li Changsheng spent most of his time reading medical books. This time, besides a few pieces of clothing, his backpack was filled with books.

Many were about Traditional Chinese Medicine, as well as atlases of human muscles, meridians, and Acupoints, along with a few books explaining various international fighting styles.

This was something Li Changsheng intended to master himself recently; he didn't seek to reach the level of a national-level master in Traditional Chinese Medicine, but at least he wanted to be able to treat minor ailments himself, and handle simple dislocations or joint and muscle injuries.

He even included a book on battlefield emergency treatment. There was no other reason than the fact that in the free United States, shootings happen every day, and he was genuinely afraid of being shot in the back in this foreign land.

Just thinking about how a dignified, young practitioner of Chinese Martial Arts could end up dying by a cowardly gunshot was somewhat frustrating.

As for firearms, Li Changsheng was not afraid of facing them head-on, but he was afraid of a sudden shot from behind or from a dark corner.

When facing them directly, he could prevent the opponent from firing within five steps. Beyond ten steps, the probability of dodging was ten percent, and the probability of dodging a fatal hit was twenty percent.

Considering that most of these gunmen were at the level of ordinary American citizens and not professional shooters, these probabilities would have to be increased.

"I should try to keep a low profile in the US. No matter how high one's martial arts are, one still fears guns. Times have really changed."

Li Changsheng sighed inwardly. After all, this was not the era of Great Masters of Chinese Martial Arts like Sun Lutang and Yang Luchan.

Back then, they could snatch guns away in one breath and dodge volleys from several people. While their skills were certainly impressive, the firing rate and performance of firearms in that era were also factors.

If it were firearms crafted by modern high-precision industrial machine tools, it remained unknown whether those Great Masters of Chinese Martial Arts from back then could still achieve such astonishing feats.

The flight lasted a full fifteen hours, and it wasn't until three or four in the afternoon the next day that the plane slowly landed on the runway in this foreign land.

Looking through the window at the advertising slogans composed of various letters outside, Li Changsheng felt a little sad; he had officially gone abroad.

What surprised him was that while many people felt excited about their first time abroad, he felt lost and sad instead.

Especially when walking out of the plane and seeing foreigners with all kinds of hair colors—blonde, brown, and others—surrounding him, Li Changsheng felt an inexplicable sense of unease.

There were very few people with black hair and Asian faces. There were only twenty fellow countrymen on this flight, but they seemed to be here for work.

They were all dragging suitcases, holding phones, talking while walking in a hurry.

Only Li Changsheng stood there, looking out of place.

"Elder Zhang said he arranged for someone to pick me up."

Walking out of the airport, the first thing he saw was a crowd of people holding signs. Li Changsheng took a look, but because these were all names composed of letters,

Li Changsheng was truly confused.

However, soon, Li Changsheng discovered a slightly crooked Chinese character on one of the signs in the back, which read 'Li'.

Seeing this, Li Changsheng hesitated for a moment, then shouldered his bag and pushed through the crowd toward that person.

When he reached the person, Li Changsheng realized that this was not a fellow countryman, nor was it Elder Zhang.

Instead, it was a young black man, probably between eighteen and twenty years old.

Based on his appearance, it was difficult for Li Changsheng to judge the foreigner's actual age, but it was highly likely he was around that age.

The person was not tall, about 1.7 meters, and had a stout build.

His hair was in the short, curly style common among black people, and he had the signature thick lips often associated with them; his round face was quite comical.

If the person were to suddenly transform into a hip-hop master, Li Changsheng wouldn't be surprised in the slightest.

However, his skin tone wasn't very dark, which was also not surprising; most black people in the US were of mixed heritage.

It was just that Li Changsheng hesitated; since the person was a black brother, could there have been a mistake?

By the way, what exactly did Elder Zhang's family do? Foreign trade?

Li Changsheng was truly confused about this, as the old man had never really mentioned anything about his son.

"Hey, man, are you Mr. Li?"

While Li Changsheng was still hesitating, the young black man took the initiative to speak.

The other person spoke English, but the words were simple, so Li Changsheng understood him clearly.

"Yes... I am... But, are you Zhang, did you come to pick me up?"

Because Li Changsheng didn't understand many English words, he could only use "Zhang" to refer to Zhang Youdao. However, Chinese names were very distinct in the US, so as long as the other party nodded, there would be no mistake; the other party was indeed sent by Zhang Youdao.

Sure enough, the chubby young black man nodded. He quickly smiled and nodded, but still said somewhat nervously:

"Oh, heavens, Mr. Li, you are mistaken. It's not that I was asked to come, but that I was sent here. And Grandmaster Zhang is very powerful; I admire him a lot!"

As he said this, the young black man struck a very exaggerated kung fu pose. Li Changsheng didn't know where he had learned it, but he certainly couldn't recognize it as any known style.

"Ha! Chinese Kung Fu! This is it!"

He withdrew his stance, gave a thumbs up, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of pearly white teeth.

Li Changsheng also smiled and nodded, but his mind was a bit dazed.

"Did Elder Zhang open a martial arts school in the US? Grandmaster? Shouldn't it be Master?"

Li Changsheng highly suspected that the chubby young black man's pronunciation wasn't quite standard.

Next, the young black man enthusiastically helped Li Changsheng with his bag, leading him all the way to the parking lot outside.

The young black man had driven there in an old local taxi. Looking at the body of the car with its clearly peeling paint, and the rhythmic, jarring sensation when it started, Li Changsheng suspected the car was at least ten years old.

The young black man's driving skills were actually quite good, and he was very talkative; his mouth hadn't stopped moving since they got in the car.

Li Changsheng wasn't annoyed; he listened quietly, occasionally replying a few words, mainly to practice his listening and reading skills.

If it were before, Li Changsheng definitely wouldn't have been able to master English so quickly. Even with a certain foundation, to fully master it, he would probably have to live here for a few years.

But now it was different; with the System solidifying his memory, after guessing and figuring out the meaning of the words the young black man used, he could quickly understand similar vocabulary when it appeared later.

Thus, without realizing it, Li Changsheng was almost able to understand conventional language without difficulty, especially the local slang that the other person would occasionally blurt out, which he understood thoroughly.

From the young black man's description, Li Changsheng also learned his name: Antoine Martin.