I Picked Up An Ancient Transmigration Killer To Be A Wife

After hearing this, Zhang Qiang's eyes suddenly turned red, and she stood up a little excited and said, "Little Guo, are you afraid that I can't endure hardship? I've been able to endure hardship since I was a child! My parents are both policemen. I’m often away from home, and I’m going home from school alone to cook and take care of myself! I’m not afraid of pain! I work hard! When I was in the police school, I counted down from the beginning of the physical class to the fifth grade at the end of the day. Practice it step by step by yourself! Just try it, I promise you won’t be tired! Don’t cry!”

"Don't worry, don't worry," Guo Ming held her shoulders and asked her to sit down. "It's not that I don't teach you, I can't teach you. The martial arts I have learned have been practiced since I was a child. The moves are simple, but the basic skills are very demanding, and the flexibility and flexibility of the body are very demanding. If you are still a child, I won’t say anything to help you wash your marrow and forge your bones. I will teach you one by one. But the problem is that you are an adult. Even if you spend a long time helping you wash your marrow and forge your bones, you can endure the pain, but the effect is not obvious. So. I said, I can't teach you."

Before Zhang Qiang showed a disappointed expression, Guo Ming went on to say, "But friend Pang De can."

"Friend Pound is accustomed to using a mountain splitting knife. Compared with me, martial arts is more external. Although internal skills can't teach you, external skills are still possible. After learning his skills, you are enough to defend yourself against killing enemies."

After listening to Guo Ming's words, Zhang Qiang's eyes suddenly lit up, looking at Pang Deyou with anticipation, staring directly at Pang Deyou panic.

"Brother Pang Da~~~~~~~"

"Cough cough cough!" Pang Deyou just drank a sip of water, and immediately choked coughing again and again. Zhang Qiang jumped up and rushed to stand beside Pang Deyou and pat his back vigorously. Wu Yuanyuan and Guo Ming were smashed with laughter.

"I'm sorry, Big Brother, I didn't mean to scare you! Don't mind! Don't mind!"

"Ahem, Miss Zhang, all right, all right, all right, all right."

Pang Deyou cleared his throat: "Miss Zhang, my Pang family's sword technique is a great combination. It is a kind of martial arts that requires not only physical flexibility, but also good physical fitness. Can you think about it, do you have this determination to practice?"

"Brother Pang Da, I said, I am least afraid of hardship!"

"Okay, then I will teach you!"

Wu Yuanyuan asked curiously: "Then do you want to hold some kind of apprenticeship ceremony?"

"No, I just taught some punches and kicks, but didn't teach her martial arts mentality, so I can't be considered a master."

"I watched TV before, didn't it mean that martial arts masters know a lot of martial arts? Why do you all only know one?" Wu Yuanyuan continued to ask questions.

"Ha, can you believe it on TV? It takes decades to be proficient in a martial arts. If a person can do this, then think about it, how can he do it? Everything is the same. If you concentrate on doing one thing, you will eventually become a master."

"Well, I understand!" "Teached!" Wu Yuanyuan and Zhang Qiang said in unison.

"Brother Pang Da, when can we start?"

"Call Friends Pound..."

"When can we start, German friends?"

"...If there is a venue, tomorrow will be fine."

Early the next morning, Zhang Qian came to pick up friend Pang De, and the two drove to the gym run by Zhang Qian's friend.

The gym in the morning is usually deserted, and there are no guests except for the personal trainers who are exercising. Zhang Qiang took Pang Deyou around for a tour, and after introducing the various equipment in the gym, the two came to a private education classroom. There are overall fitness frames for strength training in the classroom, as well as yoga mats, bouncy **** and foam rollers for stretching. The first time I saw these, Pang Deyou was very interested, and he tried all the equipment before starting to teach Zhang Qiang.

"I'll show you the Pang family knife technique first, and then tell you what kind of physical conditions you need." Pang Deyou checked the size of the private classroom, walked out, and changed to a large gymnastics room.

Because he wanted to learn the sword technique, Zhang Qiang prepared two big swords in advance. But the only ones that can be found on the market are the kind of metal pieces used in martial arts performances, which are light and thin without blades. Pang Deyou didn't care too much, and he squeezed it in his hand, then raised his wrist and danced a sword in his hand.

"There are only 19 styles of Pang's swordsmanship, each of which has three changes, so the basic moves are 57 styles." Pang Deyou said, and the tiger danced with the sword in his hand. The movements were like moving clouds and flowing water. There is a sense of fierceness between the union. While dancing the sword, his eyes also changed, sometimes despising everything, sometimes full of murderous intentions, and Zhang Qiang who looked at him would be surprised for a while and shudder. After the demonstration of the fifty-seven styles was completed, the personal trainers who were iron-clad stood in a row outside the exercise room, applauding vigorously together, just as if they had watched some performance.

Pang Deyou held the knife upside down and held his fist outside to signal, and then told Zhang Qiang: "If you want to learn Pang's sword technique, first of all your body must be flexible enough. The longer the arm stretches, the more enemies you can hit; the farther the leg kicks, Your own safety range is greater. So I will teach you some basic skills now. When you can stretch your arms like an ape and kick your legs like a python, we can start learning the sword."

Zhang Qiang listened, said yes one by one, and walked to the corner to take off his coat, ready to learn basic skills from Pang Deyou.

"You... put on your clothes!"

The author has something to say:

It's a bit late. . . Hehehe. . .