A generation of soldiers begins with Feng Yuxiu traveling through time and space with Xu Sanduo

The courtyard was unusually quiet after the police left. Rain slanted down the bluestone slabs, staining the bloodstains left from last night into pale red plum blossom shapes.

Feng Yuxiu stood in the courtyard, his black clothes almost blending into the darkening sky.

He did not bring any professional equipment.

This mission was not supposed to utilize military resources.

But compared to his previous life, when he was hiding in sewers and being hunted down by the entire city, he now at least has a bottom line: as long as he doesn't completely break the rules, someone will clean up the mess.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself, lightly tapping a broken tile on the ground with his toe.

He didn't kill Hong Ye, but he was gone the moment he left.

In Hong Kong's martial arts world, there are probably no more than three people who could kill Hung Yip in a weapons duel.

If it wasn't a gun attack, then it could only be a skilled assassin from the mainland.

But why would someone of that caliber get involved in such worldly disputes?

“The martial world, the martial world…” Feng Yuxiu sneered, his breath quickly dissipating in the rain. “In the last life, I didn’t kill enough, and in this life, I’ve already been targeted.”

He believes he has been low-key enough.

What true martial arts master would associate with gangs? In this day and age, nouveau riche are everywhere, and a skilled fighter is more exciting to the wealthy than a Rolls-Royce.

With the recent strict order in mainland China to confiscate civilian firearms, it is likely that more martial arts practitioners will become the private collections of the wealthy in the future.

This is not the martial arts world that Feng Yuxiu wanted to see.

The rain suddenly intensified.

He turned and walked out, thinking about two things: first, to find out who was watching him from the shadows, and second, he had to get Hong Ye's autopsy report.

Anyone who can kill Hong Ye without a gun is no ordinary person.

He suddenly thought of Lu Xuanxin. That crazy woman who would blow up the dock and kill three people just to capture him. He was probably going to run into her again.
-
"How many times have I told you! Don't touch it! Don't touch it! Do you think I'm just listening to background music?!"

Liao Zhizhong's roar almost lifted the ceiling.

He slammed his hand on the desk, causing the coffee cup to jump three centimeters, and the brown liquid splashed onto the photo of Hong Ye's death scene.

Lu Xuanxin stood before the table, his back ramrod straight, but his voice betrayed his exhaustion: "Inspector Liao, this is no longer an ordinary gang feud. The killer's understanding of weapons and martial arts..."

"Understand my foot!" Liao Zhizhong grabbed another stack of documents and slammed them over his head. "You're a policeman! Not a martial arts novel editor! Who is Hong Ye? A listed director of the Dongying Group! A martial arts consultant for three wealthy mainlanders! You think his death is just as simple as the death of an actor?"

The documents were scattered all over the floor.

Lu Xuanxin didn't bend down to pick it up, but stared at Liao Zhizhong's reddened eyes: "So we should investigate even more thoroughly. The serial murders, the victims are all people from the martial arts world, this is clearly someone is purging the Hong Kong martial arts community."

"Purge the martial arts world?" Liao Zhizhong laughed out loud in anger. He walked around the table, his finger almost poking Lu Xuanxin's nose. "Inspector Lu, do you want me to buy you a set of ancient costumes and a sword? Do you think this is a movie about Swordsman?"

He took a breath, his voice lowered but sharper: "The Governor's office made three phone calls today. The head of the Tung Ying Group flew directly to Beijing last night. Someone on the mainland has said: if the Hong Kong police can't handle the situation, the PLA garrison in Hong Kong can assist in maintaining stability. Do you understand what that means?"

Lu Xuanxin finally lowered her gaze.

She understood.

If the PLA Hong Kong Garrison takes over, the entire police force will lose face.

"I'm giving you forty-eight hours." Liao Zhizhong stepped back into his seat, his voice suddenly becoming weary. "Within forty-eight hours, either give me the murderer, or give me your resignation letter. And..."

He picked up the half-soaked photograph, which showed Hong Ye lying in a pool of blood, still clutching a broken knife.

"Notify that martial arts expert Xiahou Wu." Liao Zhizhong rubbed his temples. "Haven't he always wanted to get involved? Tell him his chance has come. But if he brings up any more 'underworld rules,' I'll lock him up in Stanley and teach him the rules like real gangsters."

Lu Xuanxin nodded, and as she turned around, she heard Liao Zhizhong muttering behind her, "They're all crazy... Does anyone really think there's a martial arts world anymore?"
-
Feng Yuxiu stood in the shadows across the street, watching Lu Xuanxin and a tall, thin man walk into the mortuary.

The man walked with a steady gait, and the swaying of his shoulders had a special rhythm, indicating that he was a trained martial artist with considerable skill.

"Xiahou Wu." Feng Yuxiu read the name aloud, a slight smile curving his lips.

However, in this life, the situation seems to have become more delicate: if Xiahou Wu gets involved, it will be even more difficult for the police to simply attribute the case to a gang feud.

The rain became fine again.

Feng Yuxiu tightened his collar and disappeared into the depths of the alley.

He needs to get a copy of the autopsy report first.
-
"The incision cut diagonally upwards from the lower left, severing the third and fourth ribs and piercing directly into the heart," the forensic doctor said, pointing to a photo on the projector. "But strangely, there were fine burn marks around the edges of the wound."

Xiahou Wu leaned closer to the screen, his brow furrowed: "Burning?"

“It’s not gunpowder.” The forensic doctor shook his head. “It’s more like… the instantaneous high temperature generated by high-speed friction. But for a cold weapon to achieve this effect, the speed and power of the swing would be simply superhuman.”

Lu Xuanxin looked at Xiahou Wu: "Can you do it?"

Xiahou Wu remained silent for a long time: "If Hong Ye were at his peak, there are no more than five people in all of China who could deliver this blow in a head-on confrontation. But of those five, three are in seclusion in mainland China, one is in Japan, and one..."

"Who?"

“He died three years ago.” Xiahou Wu took a deep breath. “So either he’s a hidden master we don’t know about, or…”

"Either what?"

“Either the killer used some technique or tool that we don’t yet understand.” Xiahou Wu turned to look at Hong Ye’s body, his eyes filled with complex emotions. “Officer Lu, something’s not right with this case.”

Lu Xuanxin's phone vibrated. She walked to the side to answer it, and her expression gradually changed.

"What's wrong?" Xiahou Wu asked.

“Another one died.” Lu Xuanxin hung up the phone, her voice hoarse. “‘Legged master Myne, in his martial arts studio. Time of death… one hour ago.’”

Xiahou Wu suddenly looked up: "The Northern Leg King is dead? Why would he kill a Japanese leg technique master? What is he doing?"

The two exchanged a glance and rushed toward the door at the same time.

On a rainy night, the sound of police sirens ripped through the silence.

Feng Yuxiu obtained the autopsy report with ease. In fact, after nearly eight years in the special forces, infiltrating these places was as easy as playing a game for him.

He can get into the Pentagon in the United States, let alone something like this.

The autopsy report included a close-up photo: there was a very small triangular mark on the web of Hong Ye's right hand, as if he had been stabbed by some kind of specially made hidden weapon.

“Triangular dart…” Feng Yuxiu muttered to himself, “Emei Soul-Chasing Dart? But that lineage disappeared fifty years ago.”

He suddenly remembered a rumor he had heard in his previous life: before 1997, there was a secret organization that recruited scoundrels from martial arts circles around the world to handle dirty work for certain important figures. Later, this organization disappeared along with the Hong Kong British government.

Or rather, it simply moved deeper underground.

Feng Yuxiu looked up at the dark sky, raindrops hitting his face.

“So I wasn’t the only one hunting,” he said softly.

-

Feng Yuxiu leaned against the cold cement wall.

"Hold."

Things have completely spiraled out of control.

He was reborn to cleanse the Hong Kong martial arts world in a more perfect way, and to correct all the regrets and mistakes of his previous life.

Hong Ye was not originally on the kill list.

Although that guy helped Dongying launder money, his martial arts skills were genuine. Feng Yuxiu even secretly admired the rare inspiration in his swordsmanship.

But now Hong Ye is dead, and all the evidence points to him.

“No, it’s pointing at me.” Feng Yuxiu chuckled bitterly, a sense of absurdity in his voice. He held the photo up to the streetlight again.

The light penetrated the paper, revealing the minute details of the tiny mark: it was no ordinary triangular dart, with flowing lines extending from both sides like wings, and a delicate upward curve at the tail.

The swallows in front of the hall, and the special kind that can circle three and a half times in the air.

Even more deadly is that under a magnifying glass, you can see a micro-engraving on the swallow's back: a character "彡".

Small Seal script.

“I fucking…” Feng Yuxiu closed his eyes and slammed the back of his head against the wall. “Weng Haisheng, you’re a genius.”

Weng Haisheng was his original name in his previous life.

That lunatic who limped around in one leg and spent three years secretly watching the martial arts school before daring to knock on the door and become its disciple.

That obsessive person who could go seven days without sleep and smash sandbags to shreds just to practice martial arts.

Feng Yuxiu, who completely turned into a killing machine after Shen Xue's death.

But Shen Xue should still be alive.

"Without the shock of Shen Xue's death, how could you have entered Hong Kong eight years ahead of schedule? How the hell did you train your skills with your one-legged and one-legged legs?" Feng Yuxiu asked the air, as if another version of himself was standing opposite him.

The hissing of stray cats fighting came from the alley entrance.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to analyze the situation calmly.

In his previous life, Weng Haisheng didn't have the strength to defeat Hong Ye in a one-on-one fight until 2014. He only managed to win by risking injury and breaking three ribs.

It is now 2006, a full eight years earlier than expected.

Even if Weng Haisheng had some extraordinary encounter, his progress in martial arts could not defy the laws of physics.

Muscles need time to grow, bones need time to adapt to the way force is applied, and internal strength requires even more time and effort to develop.

He was able to improve rapidly because he obtained the ancient martial arts manual that was said to be the only one of its kind in a century, coupled with modern scientific physical training and nutritional support.

“Unless…” Feng Yuxiu suddenly froze.

Unless Weng Haisheng also obtained that fragment? Or worse, obtained the complete version?

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

-

Feng Yuxiu slipped into the ventilation duct like a shadow.

He had practiced this set of movements no less than a hundred times in his previous life.

Back then he was a wanted murderer, now he's a soldier on a secret mission, but their methods of infiltration are essentially the same.

The security in the evidence room was laxer than he had expected.

Hong Kong police probably never expected someone would steal a concealed weapon.

He stopped in front of the counter of Hong Ye's case.

Inside the transparent plastic bag, the swallow in front of the hall lay quietly, its upward curve of the swallowtail glaringly arrogant.

Feng Yuxiu put on gloves, carefully took it out, and turned it to the back.

Under the light, the character 彡 clearly emerged.

It wasn't machine-carved neatly, but rather hand-polished bit by bit, with fine burrs on the edges.

This is his own habit from his past life! Because he felt that machines were too cold and unworthy of a martial artist's spirit, he ground it by hand.

"It's really a ghost..."

Feng Yuxiu muttered to himself, and suddenly a memory popped into his mind of what Shen Xue had said to him one afternoon in his previous life while she was mending his training clothes:

"Ah Sheng, when you carve this character, your hand must be steady and your mind must be calm. Look at these three strokes, don't they look like the traces of a swallow flying by?"

At the time, he scoffed, "Just practice martial arts, why bother with all this fancy stuff?"

Now, staring at the 彡 radical, he suddenly understood.

In my past life, I always longed to leave some trace of humanity beyond killing.

Even if it's just a symbol.

"So you came." Feng Yuxiu whispered towards the hidden weapon, "But why did you kill Hong Ye? Why frame me? What the hell are you trying to do?"

no answer.

Only the temperature control system in the evidence room emitted a low hum.

He put the swallows back in their original place, then suddenly paused.

There was a very faint fingerprint on the inside of the plastic bag. It was not the neat fingerprint left by the police when they collected evidence, but rather an indentation on the side of the thumb.

His grip technique for holding the dart involves a reverse wrist flick, a unique way of generating power.

“Even our habits are exactly the same…” Feng Yuxiu smiled wryly, “Does this count as me being copied by myself?”

He quickly left the evidence room.

Back at a tavern on the street, the sky was already beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

If Weng Haisheng really comes to Hong Kong and possesses extraordinary military power, then the entire plan must be completely adjusted.

The opponent must know my hunting sequence from my past life: first weapons, then fists and feet, and finally internal martial arts.

But now that he has killed all these people in order, what is Weng Haisheng going to do?
Feng Yuxiu was not worried that Weng Haisheng would pose a threat to him, as he was the only grandmaster-level expert in the past hundred years.

At least he doesn't yet... Zhou Xiyu might count?

Feng Yuxiu downed half a glass of wine, the spiciness burning his throat. "Even Jin Yong wouldn't dare write this kind of plot."

“Alright, Weng Haisheng.” Feng Yuxiu stood up and poured the rest of the wine into the pool. “Since you’re here too, let’s see who Feng Yuxiu really is in this life.”

"I don't need to deal with myself. Don't worry, Weng Haisheng. In your last life, you were all alone and were hunted down everywhere. In this life, I will never let myself be hunted down again. No matter what you do, no matter how you want to do it, you will be fine."

"I will protect you with my life."

He spoke to the mirror, the person in the mirror with sharp eyes, overlapping and separating from the image of the lame, mad-eyed Weng Haisheng in his memory.

By the time the morning light fully illuminated the streets, Feng Yuxiu had already disappeared into the early morning crowd.

Meanwhile, in a cheap hotel on the other side of the city, a man with mobility issues was carefully applying medicine to a fresh scar on his face in front of a broken mirror.

In the mirror, those eyes were equally sharp and equally crazed.

A map of Hong Kong lay open on the table, with three locations circled in red: Tan Jingyao [dead], Wang Zhe [missing], Shao Henian [dead], and... Xiahou Wu's Heyi Sect [target].

Weng Haisheng, or rather, Feng Yuxiu of this timeline, licked the scabs from the corner of his mouth and revealed a ferocious smile.

Beside him, Shen Xue was silently wiping the swallows in front of the hall with a rag.

"Ah Sheng, can we settle down for a bit? Why are you going around causing trouble for others?"

Weng Haisheng frowned. "Now that I've entered the martial arts world, I will definitely repay Wang Haisheng for the torment he inflicted on me. Besides... I don't like the name Weng Haisheng; it was given to me by that old man."

"I've been reborn... I'm going to live my own life... From now on, call me Feng Yuxiu!"

Shen Xue glanced at it, "Alright, alright, Ashu...whoosh whoosh whoosh...biu~" (End of Chapter)