However, after taking the water and remaining silent for a moment, Chen Haisheng suddenly spoke. "Uncle Lin, I'm not going to pursue professional boxing anymore."
Lin Daohang froze, turning to him with a frown. "What did you say? You don't want to fight anymore? Weren't you just clamoring every day about becoming the next Bruce Lee, about carving out a place for Chinatown?"
"I've learned my limits," Chen Haisheng sighed. "My talent can only take me so far. I beat Marcos not because of my skill, but because of Mr. Li's guidance. And at the end of the day, it was just an amateur boxing tournament."
"I'll never be the next Bruce Lee. And I've thought about it carefully," he said, looking out the window. "The only reason I wanted to make a name for myself was because life in Chinatown felt so stifling. I wanted people to respect us. But things are much better now, aren't they? I heard that McLain was ecstatic when he saw the tickets, right?"
