174: Chapter 171 Have you forgotten that you're also a streamer?

"Time and place!"

Li Changsheng said indifferently after a moment of silence.

He was rather averse to Gangs; they brought endless trouble, but now it seemed he had already gotten himself into a mess.

Li Changsheng's expression soured at the thought of what happened in the evening.

It was the clothes that caused the trouble. Li Changsheng couldn't guarantee that those Mexicans didn't know how to use the internet these days.

If they knew how to go online, they could track him down quickly.

The fact that they dared to charge into Chinatown in broad daylight to commit violence showed their arrogance; he didn't believe for a second that they didn't have connections to US officials backing them.

Furthermore, he couldn't just hide here every day, and he was skeptical about whether these people could protect him.

Rather than accepting the situation passively, it was better to take the initiative.

"Tomorrow, at noon, the boss will send a car to pick you up. Of course, if Mr. Li is worried, I can accompany Brother Li."

Third Master said this with a smile, feeling relieved inside.

As long as this Brother Li asked, it was highly likely to be settled.

"Hmm."

Li Changsheng nodded and left without further ado, heading towards the repair shop.

He was already regretting choosing such a dump of a place. He shouldn't have been so concerned about his Face earlier; he should have just chosen the villa in the suburbs from Elder Zhang, or a house in the city center.

Or simply not accepted Elder Zhang's kindness—although that would have been rude, it would have been better if he had known this would happen.

Taking a deep breath, Li Changsheng gradually cleared his mind. No matter what happened next, he would Face it as it came; he firmly believed that things would work themselves out.

Besides, he wasn't exactly weak—if there was a deadlock, he would break it; if there was a trap, he would smash through it.

Back at his accommodation, Li Changsheng opened his phone. He had already purchased a local SIM card and could now access the local network.

Entering YouTube, he found his own video at the top of the recommendations. Of course, this might have been due to data filtering since his location was identified as a Chinese national.

But seeing the view count, Li Changsheng's expression turned sour—nearly a million views, and how much time had passed?

Looking at the comments, while there were plenty of his compatriots, there were even more foreigners from all over the world. Many expressed their amazement in English, praising it as magical Chinese Kung Fu.

After looking around, Li Changsheng also discovered that several verified accounts had posted comments under the video, hoping to communicate further with the protagonist of the video.

For instance, the University of California, Stanford University, and others. The comments from these US universities were mostly expressions of awe at Li Changsheng's Kung Fu, while also stating that as long as Li Changsheng contacted them, they would be willing to issue performance invitations and even offer honorary professorships.

Li Changsheng was curious—did these universities value Kung Fu that much? They were even sending honorary professor invitations?

Curious, he clicked on these accounts and found they were indeed verified.

He immediately searched online and understood that some universities in the US had established Kung Fu classes.

Especially Stanford; their Kung Fu class was quite well-organized. The Kung Fu class was taught by Master Shi Ran from Shaolin, who was 30 years old and had been learning Kung Fu at the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song since he was 9. In addition, there were six Shaolin monks aged 17 to 27 serving as teaching assistants.

"So they are serious?"

Li Changsheng found it very strange. Domestically, there were quite a few primary and secondary schools that set martial arts and Health-preserving Qigong as mandatory courses, similar to radio gymnastics.

Some high schools and universities also had martial arts majors, but they were all performance-oriented, a bit like dance. They judged you based on whether your movements were standard and aesthetically pleasing.

Many competitions were the same—very few combat matches; most were like assessments, judging whether your movements were standardized and beautiful. It was very similar to gymnastics and dance.

However, in Li Changsheng's view, performance-style martial arts could not be called martial arts; you could call it a unique dance art, but it could not be called martial arts.

True martial arts were combat skills for fitness and self-defense, which could be used to defend, counterattack, or kill, not for performance.

Now, watching some promotional videos for Stanford's Kung Fu classes, Li Changsheng fell silent.

The promotional videos for the Kung Fu classes also used many tricks and performance martial arts, but it wasn't hard to see that this one had more practicality.

Shaolin might have hidden a lot from the foreigners, but they had also shown quite a bit of Kung Fu.

Especially the demonstrations by some of the top students, which vaguely hinted at the use of Integrated Force. Although they hadn't fully mastered Integrated Force yet, their vigorous style was enough to handle four or five people.

"Sigh!"

Li Changsheng sighed softly. He didn't blame Shaolin; after all, they took the money, so they had to teach something, and they hadn't taught any lethal or heavy-handed Moves.

The essence wasn't passed on, but compared to the domestic situation, it really made him feel sad.

Many domestic universities focused on performance, while the actual combat ones were just interest groups, like martial arts clubs.

But those martial arts clubs were a mixed bag, and it was only thanks to the developed internet that even if there was no one to teach them, they could learn some skills by mimicking videos online.

It was just that they were too far from those with orthodox legacies; they only practiced the form, without the spirit or marrow.

One had to know that training in Traditional Martial Arts wasn't just about learning the Moves. If it were that simple, you could only fight two or three people at most.

True Traditional Martial Arts required day-after-day practice, and preferably, an old master to demonstrate force-generating techniques and feed you Moves.

As the saying goes, it takes a year to kill someone with Baji Quan, but that requires a systematic, grueling year of training, and even then, it's very difficult to reach the point of being able to kill someone in a year.

Of course, this was the current trend in the country: learning performance was enough. After all, if you learned performance martial arts in university, you could claim to be a martial artist.

This allowed one to do many things, such as participating in various performance martial arts competitions, working as a martial arts stunt double in film studios, and those with more seniority could even become martial arts directors for Xianxia or Wuxia idol dramas.

This was actually very easy to see; the current Xianxia and Wuxia dramas were fundamentally different from those of the past.

The martial arts directors and stunt doubles of that time were either from the Shichahai Martial Arts School or from Hong Kong and Guangdong Province.

The people who came out of those two places back then had real Kung Fu. Those who knew, knew. Not to mention lethal Moves or heavy hits, at the very least, they all understood how to generate force.

Needless to say, Hong Kong and Guangdong Province still retained many martial arts schools that taught real Kung Fu.

And the Shichahai Martial Arts School was also a place that produced tough guys.

For example, our Brother Zhuo learned a very good set of Northern boxing styles, such as Taiji and Xingyi, and was most proficient in Tongbei Fist.

He was also a Wuying-level national martial arts athlete, and those who could reach this level basically had real Kung Fu.

Like Brother Wu, Brother Jie, and many others.

And that "suit thug" everyone knows—he was also one. He entered the Sichuan Provincial Martial Arts Team in his teens and successively won championships in Chen-style Taiji and Taiji Sword at the National Martial Arts Competition, as well as spear and sword championships. In 1995, he received the title of Wuying-level athlete.

And as for acting, he only started doing that after retiring.

It can only be said that when a real powerhouse retires, their foundation is just more solid than others.

Flipping through the comments on the video, he found that there were some TV programs that wanted to contact him.

It was largely similar to the schools; they hoped Li Changsheng could appear on their programs to perform Chinese Kung Fu.

There was also a quite famous show that sent an invitation called America's Got Talent—a show that had been copied domestically as well, which had always been quite popular in the US.

Next was Forged in Fire; this show also came to join in the fun, saying they wanted to invite this gentleman from the video to serve as their blade tester, as they happened to have Chinese weapon forging in their next episode.

Li Changsheng was speechless. There was certainly no lack of sincere invitations, but it was clear that more were just trying to ride the wave of his popularity. Sure enough, whether domestic or abroad, riding the wave of popularity was unavoidable.

Shaking his head, he logged out of YouTube and was just about to turn off his phone when he noticed software notifications popping up at the top of the screen.

Taking a closer look, they were all pop-ups from the Douyu app.

Pulling down the message box, he saw dense notifications of fans @-ing him on Douyu.

"I Bet a Dollar @ Daoist Changsheng: Streamer, where are you? Did you forget how you titled your stream? Start streaming Traditional Martial Arts from now on, now! Immediately! Get out here and stream for me!"

"Wei Xinshang @ Daoist Changsheng: Streamer, get out here and take a beating! Neglecting your job, huh? Did you forget you're still a streamer?"

"Zhang Junjian @ Daoist Changsheng: Streamer, I've never seen a pigeon-like person who flakes as much as you. Master Ma gets KO'd in one punch, but he doesn't talk tough, and even if he gets trolled, he still dares to stream. You have real skills, why are you playing hide-and-seek? Aren't you ashamed? Learn properly from Master Ma!"

"Murong Lan @ Daoist Changsheng: Streamer, tell us the truth, are you in trouble now? With your skills, I can conclude that you're abroad right now, and you don't even dare to show your Face!"

"Green-Eyed Tiger @ Daoist Changsheng: Streamer, I saw someone on YouTube today whose side profile looks a lot like you, but they were wearing My Little Pony, so it's probably not you. If it were Peppa Pig, I would go abroad to find you right now."

Looking at these notifications, fine sweat broke out on Li Changsheng's forehead.

He was startled; he hadn't expected netizens to be so sharp these days.

If it hadn't been a Douyu pop-up, he would have thought the police had sent him an ultimatum, almost describing the process of his crime in full detail.

"It has indeed been a long time since I streamed. But now is not the time. Once the trouble here is resolved, I can open a stream to answer some questions for fans about practicing martial arts and health preservation."

With the end of the "Promote Traditional Martial Arts" series of tasks, and the current "Path of the Grandmaster" task underway, streaming was already optional for Li Changsheng.

"However, one must know how to be grateful. If it weren't for this group of lovely fans at the beginning, where would I be now?"

Li Changsheng was also a bit embarrassed; after all, he was a streamer, and he hadn't streamed in so many days. He figured the streaming platform must be anxious.

Furthermore, Li Changsheng felt that streaming could also be considered a channel to promote martial arts. As for the media here abroad, he had no time to deal with them now.

Even if they were willing to pay high salaries, he would only teach some performance tricks; he wouldn't teach the real stuff.

Closing his phone, Li Changsheng prepared to get a good night's sleep and meet Elder Zhang's eldest son tomorrow.