Although the young man had no eyes, his body looked very well-proportioned, about 1.8 meters tall, and he was wearing ordinary gray short-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans.

His unsavage eyes stared at Roland for a while, then walked over and asked in a voice that seemed weak, "Friend, what are you doing?"

"Look." Roland's eyes moved away from the young man, stared at the two students who were practicing in the field, and said slowly: "I heard that this is the Miaodao Museum, so I came over to see if it was true."

The young man grinned without emotion, as if he was laughing, but he had no intention of laughing: "Look at it casually."

The two trainees who were practicing with long curved wooden knives looked very similar to the Japanese sword. Moreover, their attacks and routines looked very similar to the Japanese swordsmanship at first glance.

No wonder someone thinks that Miao sword technique borrows from the Japanese swordsmanship.

After seeing the two of them practiced together for a while, Roland dared to conclude that there was indeed something in this Miaodao Museum.

After all, he has practiced Sanda for two months. He is very strong. He is only a little better than the coach who has practiced for more than ten years, and his eyesight has also been developed.

When practicing Sanda, you naturally have to learn how to exert force and retract force, and these basic concepts also exist in swordsmanship.

Roland can now see the strength of swinging the knife and the "skill" when closing the knife. The two students who practiced the knife are indeed a bit of a foundation.

After watching for a while, Roland asked the young man: "Where are the boss and coach of the Miaodao Museum, brother?"

"It's all me." The young man's expression still had a weak indifference. He looked Roland up and down for a while and said, "You seem to have some foundation."

"Well, I practiced Sanda for two months!"

"Two months?" The young man's face finally changed a little, like a calm lake, a light feather fell and a microwave was raised.

"Yes." Roland nodded.

"That's how..."

The young man murmured weakly, and then his right hand suddenly cut up from below, and the tip of his palm seemed to poke Roland's ribs.

Roland reacted very quickly at this time, leaning back his upper body, and subconsciously thrust his knees and rushed towards the other party's abdomen.

But suddenly, his movements stopped.

Because he saw that the young man's hand knife was just a false move, and he stopped halfway through it. It was just a simple test, without any malice.

At this time, both of them were a little strange. The young man half-squatted in his horse stance, squirting with his right hand, while Roland leaned back, as if time had stopped.

About two seconds later, the two stood up straight and smiled awkwardly.

The young man no longer had the indifferent and powerless look he had just now, and there was a little more excitement in his pupils: "I didn't expect you to practice well. Why don't you come in and have some competition?"

"Everyone said that I am practicing Sanda. You are practicing sword skills. How could I be your opponent?" Roland shook his head helplessly.

"That's right." The young man sighed in disappointment, and his expression changed back to the previous feeling of weakness as if it was a salted fish.

"Actually, I'm here this time to learn Miaodao skills." Roland looked at the other party and smiled faintly: "It seems that the teaching here is quite authentic. How much does it cost?"

"Thirty thousand!"

"How many!" Roland suspected that he had heard it wrong.

"Thirty thousand." The young man yawned and continued, "Bao the church. If you are stupid and can't learn for a short time, you will continue to teach until you can. But you don't look like a stupid person."

Roland felt a headache: "Your number is too exaggerated. And the environment here is not very good, it feels like it is not of grade and it is not worth so much money."

While speaking, he pointed to the large shed built from double-layer iron. This kind of venue looked like the ice skating rink in the town twenty years ago.

In fact, his guess was correct. This place was indeed an ice rink more than ten years ago. However, Internet cafes began to appear. The ice rink could not make any money and was abandoned. Then a few years ago, the young man opposite took over at an extremely cheap price.

The young man said lightly: "You pay money to learn sword skills, not to enjoy it. What does it matter if the environment is good or not. This kind of place is actually better. Practice in summer and practice in winter and training in winter. It will train people's will."

"Can't it be cheaper?" Roland asked.

"No!" The young man's expression was almost fluctuating.

But the more this happens, the more it means that the other party is determined and what he says is almost impossible to change.

Roland looked at the four students practicing under the shed and asked, "Have they paid 30,000?"

The number 30,000 is nothing to rich people. Sometimes, they throw away the number several times when they invite a guest at night.

But for ordinary people like Roland, there are quite a lot. Even if he deposits nearly 300,000 yuan in his bank card now, he still thinks it is very expensive.

He looked at the four students practicing sword skills in the greenhouse, and they didn't look rich, so he doubted whether the boss and coach in front of him wanted to extort some of his money.

"They are my relatives, of course they don't need money." The young man said as he took out a pack of wrinkled red plum smoke from his top pocket, handed it over, and said, "Can you smoke?"

"Thank you, I won't smoke." Roland waved his hand. It turned out to be the other party's relative, so there was nothing he could do.

The young man lit one for himself, took a breath, and spit out a smoke ring: "It's good not to smoke. If you practice martial arts, you can't smoke. If you practice martial arts, you are not good for your lungs. If you have poor lungs, you won't be able to get up. If you have weak Qi, don't talk about practicing martial arts. It's good if you don't feel any impact on ordinary life."

Roland stared at the cigarette in the other person's hand with a strange expression, his eyes stunning.

"Tell me." The young man shook the cigarette in his hand, and said in a tone without any emotional ups and downs: "I just put the cigarette in my mouth and did not suck it into my lungs."

So what's the point of smoking like this? Roland was a little puzzled, but he didn't want to understand the reason for the other party's quirk. He thought for a while and asked, "Then how long has it been opened here and how many students have you recruited? Your relatives don't count."

"It's been half a year, and there is not a single student outside." The young man seemed quite 'righteous'.

Roland's brow frowned even harder. He was about to speak, but his phone rang.

He made an embarrassed gesture to the young man, walked aside, and answered the phone.

It was Shuke who called: "The official website has issued a new announcement. Have you read it?"

"I'm having something outside and don't have time to pay attention to the official website."

"You'd better see it now, it has something to do with you."

After saying this, the call was hung up.

Roland remembered that the master planner said that a new announcement would be issued soon. Could it be that he mentioned himself in the announcement because he had reported the bug?

But Shuke's personality is also relatively calm, and he shouldn't be the one who makes a fuss because of this.

Roland opened his mobile browser and entered the official game homepage. He saw that the announcement was indeed updated.

After clicking on it, he patted his forehead speechlessly.
Chapter completed!