They could balance a long spear on their throat, withstand blows from wooden sticks, and chop bricks with their bare hands—the list goes on and on.
This thrilling performance also got many viewers' blood pumping.
Xu Qingyi watched as the monk pressed the spear against his throat, bending it into a crescent moon. He felt a chill run down his spine and sighed repeatedly.
When it was all over, the audience visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
Everyone was on tenterhooks for the monk who had just performed the feat.
Xiuxiu stood next to Meng Ran, blinking her big, bright eyes.
"Uncle Meng, do you know how to do this?"
Meng Ran was a little dumbfounded when she heard this topic.
But seeing the little girl's innocent expression, he didn't dare to explain too much and could only shake his head and admire her.
"I don't know how to do that."
Lin Xiuxiu frowned, looking smug.
"It seems the Shaolin monks are still more powerful!"
These words made Meng Ran's forehead crease with annoyance.
Can these things even be compared?
He knows things that these monks don't.
However, children speak without thinking, and Meng Ran didn't take it to heart. He wasn't the kind of person who would fight or be aggressive, so he didn't care about these things at all.
However, the program on stage changed very quickly.
A moment later, a monk who looked like a host appeared, pushing a speaker and holding a microphone, and calling out to the people around him.
"Welcome to Shaolin Temple."
"That was Shaolin Kung Fu from our Shaolin Temple."
"Like the Golden Bell Cover or Iron Shirt, their main feature is invulnerability to swords and spears."
Among the crowd, several young monks, carrying alms bowls, began asking the audience for tips.
Most of the viewers who enjoyed the show gave one or two dollars.
At this point, the host looked around and began the next segment.
"Next, we will invite a few audience members to try out our hard qigong!"
Upon hearing this, many people in the audience waved.
Among Lin Yifeng's group, Xu Qingyi and Gangzi were particularly excited, and even Lin Xiuxiu and An'an were waving their hands excitedly.
Seeing the two children's excited expressions, Lin Cuilan quickly tried to calm them down.
"Kids shouldn't get involved."
"Don't hurt yourselves!"
The monk smiled slightly at the child and focused his attention on the crowd.
The host quickly selected four audience members, and when it came to the last person to be selected, the host's eyes fell on Meng Ran, who was holding a child's hand in both hands.
"Sir! Would you like to give it a try?"
Meng Ran was slightly taken aback when he saw the monk who came up to talk to him.
He originally wanted to refuse, but Lin Xiuxiu kept pestering him.
"Uncle Meng, why don't you give it a try!"
Even An'an was curious at this moment: who was more powerful, Meng Ran or these monks?
"Uncle Meng."
The two little girls stood on either side of Meng Ran, staring at him expectantly. For a moment, Meng Ran didn't know how to refuse them.
After much hesitation, Meng Ran had no choice but to bite the bullet.
"Alright."
He entrusted Lin Xiuxiu and Meng An'an to Lin Cuilan and walked out of the crowd.
In the center, four young people were eager to try it out, and the group kept smiling and exchanging ideas, wondering if the Golden Bell Shield was really that magical.
"Damn, I have to try this in a bit, see if I can break this stick."
"Don't hit too hard, what if you break it?"
"Yes, I don't dare to use any force."
While the group was discussing this, the host explained with a smile.
"It's okay, don't worry."
"Nothing will happen."
"If something goes wrong, we'll take responsibility."
Upon hearing this, everyone became extremely excited.
The whole thing stemmed from curiosity; everyone wanted to know if these martial arts techniques were actually effective.
Only Meng Ran remained unmoved; he understood the tricks behind these actions.
Back then, many people in the army also practiced this kind of thing, but with the progress of the times, these skills have long been outdated and are nothing special in his eyes.
In the crowd, Xu Qingyi and Gangzi were leaning against the fence, constantly shouting into the crowd.
"Go Meng Ge!"
"Brother Meng, show them what you've got!"
Meng Ran waved to the two of them, both amused and exasperated.
This also made many of the monks around look at Meng Ran with curiosity.
Seeing the two still making a fuss, Lin Yifeng could only pray that nothing serious would happen this time.
On stage, at the host's call, a group of martial monks came out carrying wooden sticks.
The crowd counted and found there were at least ten sticks, meaning each person had a chance to get two.
In the center, a martial monk had already started practicing his punches and showcasing his skills. Many other martial monks around him were also waiting with their hands on their hips, looking very relaxed and not taking it seriously at all.
In their eyes, this was something they practiced every day, so how could there be any mistakes?
On stage, the host pulled a young man over and handed him a wooden stick.
“We asked them to check, and these are all genuine wooden sticks.”
As the host spoke, he picked up a stick and smashed it on the ground.
These are the sticks used to make mops and brooms, as thick as the mouth of a bottle. The crisp sound they made when they hit the ground made many viewers' hearts skip a beat.
The host handed the microphone to the young man next to him, who was also shouting.
"Is there a problem?"
"No!"
The young man held up a stick and demonstrated it to the audience.
The host turned around and looked at Meng Ran and the other three behind him, then chased after them and pressed them for answers.
"Is there a problem?!"
"We can replace it for you if there's a problem!"
"Is there a problem?"
The audience was taken aback by the host's enthusiastic manner and responded in response.
Meng Ran nodded to the host in the same way.
He weighed the wooden stick in his hand, unsure of what to say.
This thing is all about technique.
Don't be fooled by how enthusiastically these monks are throwing punches; they have their own tricks for it.
The main feature is that you can break the stick with all your might, but without seriously injuring the people below.
In addition, these monks practice this every day, so being hit by a stick is basically painless for them.
Not to mention that the stick in his hand was very dry, making it lighter and more brittle to swing than a wet stick.
"Let's begin!"
At the host's shout, the first young man came over carrying a stick.
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