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

The night was as dark as ink, pressing heavily on the streets and alleys of Kowloon, Hong Kong.

The signboard of Heyimen Martial Arts School gleamed under the dim streetlights.

The warm yellow light shining through the windows of the second-floor tea room made it appear particularly lonely in the silence.

Xiahou Wu sat alone in front of the rosewood tea table, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the warm rim of the teacup.

The tea had gone cold, but he was completely unaware.

The plaque with the character "武" (martial arts) hanging on the wall cast a long shadow under the light, which swayed with the occasional headlights of passing cars outside the window.

His eyes were fixed blankly on the wall, which displayed group photos from past martial arts tournaments.

Hong Ye stood to his left, smiling brightly.

Wang Zhe was to the right rear, his eyes sharp.

And those who are no longer here are now frozen images in black and white photographs.

All dead.

In the past two months, several renowned martial arts masters in Hong Kong have died one after another.

It was not an accident, not a coincidence, it was a massacre.

A precise and brutal massacre targeting martial arts practitioners.

Xiahou Wu originally thought these things had nothing to do with him.

He is no longer the martial arts fanatic who could stay up for three days and three nights for a fight.

He is now the chairman of Foshan Wulin, a special martial arts instructor for the Kowloon Serious Crimes Unit, and owns three martial arts schools and five properties. His network extends from Hong Kong to the mainland.

He has businesses, status, and a future.

But Hongye's death was like a bucket of ice water that woke him up.

He personally went to identify the body.

Hong Ye lay on the iron bed in the morgue, his face pale, his body covered in wounds... Xiahou Wu closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Convulsions, two very different kinds of convulsions.

The first type is calm and experienced, with palm strikes that penetrate the skin and flesh, directly targeting the energy channels, and each strike is terrifyingly precise.

That's a master, a true master of internal martial arts.

Xiahou Wu recognized this technique; it was the long-lost "Pulse-Severing Technique," which was specifically designed to break a martial artist's internal energy.

The first person Hong Ye encountered used this method to cripple half of his skills.

But the truly fatal injury is the second type.

Disorderly, ruthless, and without any strategy, yet every move is deadly.

Four ribs were broken, the throat bone was shattered, and the temples were sunken.

This is not a martial arts contest, this is a massacre.

It was a beastly tearing, a madman's catharsis.

Xiahou Wu's fingertips trembled slightly.

He could almost picture the scene: Hong Ye's energy channels were severed, his power greatly diminished, and he would surely beg for mercy when facing his second opponent.

In the martial arts world, it's common for people to beg for mercy after the outcome of a battle, unless there's a deep-seated blood feud; otherwise, they'll leave a way out.

But the man didn't stop, striking again and again, until Hong Ye breathed his last.

“Madman…” Xiahou Wu murmured, his voice sounding particularly hollow in the quiet tea room.

He was afraid.

It's not that I'm afraid of dying, it's that I'm afraid of losing everything I have now.

Ten years ago, if he encountered such an opponent, he would be so excited that he would tremble, study the opponent's moves all night, and try every means to challenge him to a fight.

At that time, he had nothing but his kung fu skills and passion.

But what about now? He's thirty-two years old this year. Is he going to gamble his life on the family business he's built up over half a lifetime with a penniless desperado?
not worth.

He slammed the teacup down, making a crisp clanging sound.

"We need the martial arts world to take action," he muttered to himself, his eyes gradually sharpening. "It's not just me, it's the entire martial arts world. Those old fogies can't hide anymore. This is a matter for the martial arts world, and it needs to be resolved by the martial arts world itself."

He got up, walked to the window, and opened it.

The streets were deserted, with only neon lights flashing in the distance.

Just then, he suddenly felt a strange palpitation.

It's like they're being watched by something.

Xiahou Wu turned around abruptly, only to find the tea room completely empty.

He walked quickly to the door and opened it.

The corridor was empty, except for the motion-activated light at the corner of the stairs, which lit up because of his footsteps.

"Is it just my imagination..." He frowned and closed the door again.

He didn't see it; the moment he opened the window, a dark shadow clung to the shadows of the martial arts school's outer wall like a gecko, holding its breath.

-

That dark figure was Feng Yuxiu.

He seemed to blend into the night, his posture pressed against the wall both strange and stable, his muscle lines faintly visible in the darkness.

When Xiahou Wu opened the window, he even stopped breathing, and his heartbeat slowed to almost a standstill.

Feng Yuxiu tilted his head slightly, his ear pressed against the wall.

The sounds of muttering, clinking teacups, and footsteps in the tea room were all clearly audible.

A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.

Xiahou Wu was afraid.

Just as he had expected, this former martial arts fanatic had now been corrupted to the bone by fame and fortune.

In his previous life, Xiahou Wu was ruthless in beating his opponent to death on the ring, but he was later imprisoned and lost all his family property.

On the surface, he upholds justice in the martial arts world, but in reality, he suppresses dissidents and monopolizes the Hong Kong martial arts teaching market.

And then there's Shan Ying, that woman, who always thought her senior brother was some kind of upright gentleman.

In his past life, he fought and killed these scumbags who mingled in the martial arts world when he saw injustice.

The martial arts world regards him as scum, trash, and a murderer.

They only care about their own interests, not the so-called heroic sacrifice of the lower classes.

In the end, he died at Lu Xuanxin's gunpoint, his body lying in a dark alley, unclaimed.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back thirty years ago, in an era when the Hong Kong martial arts world had not yet completely declined.

Moreover, he now possessed a complete ancient martial arts heritage—a secret technique he had accidentally obtained in his previous life but hadn't had time to cultivate.

He wants to make these hypocrites pay the price.

but not now.

Feng Yuxiu gently exhaled a breath of stale air.

He looked up at the lit window on the second floor, then at Shan Ying's room on the other side.

The lights were on.

Xiahou Wu cannot die now.

This person has a very special identity: a martial arts chairman, a police advisor, and a business celebrity.

Killing him would be like stirring up a hornet's nest.

More importantly, Feng Yuxiu could sense that there were eyes watching Xiahou Wu in the shadows.

It wasn't the police, but a more covert force.

As he stepped into the martial arts school grounds with his left foot, he felt a chill as if he were being watched.

“People from the military region…” Feng Yuxiu squinted his eyes.

Kill Xiahou Wu? The cost would be too high.

But there are many ways to make him wish he were dead.

Feng Yuxiu moved with lightning speed, passing through the courtyard like a ghost, and arrived at the back of the main building of the martial arts school.

Dan Ying's room was on the second floor, to the left. The window was closed, but warm light and a faint smell of medicinal oil emanated from it.

Xiahou Wu's greatest weakness is not his martial arts skills, but his extremely twisted possessiveness.

The reputation he built, the name of the He Yi Men sect, and his junior sister Shan Ying.

Feng Yuxiu muttered to himself, "Don't you cherish your reputation? I'll help you pluck each feather off one by one."

-

Dan Ying lay face down on the bed, gasping for breath in pain. She was only wearing her underwear, her entire back and thighs exposed to the air.

His once tanned and firm skin was now covered with strange bluish-purple bruises.

Especially on the buttocks, the handprints were clearly visible on those two full mounds of muscle, and the color was so dark it was almost black.

"Damn bastard..." she cursed through gritted teeth, trembling as she unscrewed the cap of the medicated oil bottle.

It's been three days.

For three whole days, the pain from those two slaps not only did not lessen, but intensified.

At first, it was just skin and flesh pain, but now it feels like cold air is coming out from between my bones, and even the slightest movement makes my vision go black.

She almost cried when she looked in the mirror this morning.

Her once shapely and full buttocks are now swollen beyond recognition, looking like two strings of dark gourds hanging from them.

What terrified her most was the eeriness of that power.

She was a martial artist, and being beaten and injured was a common occurrence for her since childhood.

But that palm strike... didn't seem like an ordinary blow; it was more like some insidious internal force had seeped into the body and was slowly corroding it.

"What kind of kung fu is this..." Shan Ying bit her lip, poured the medicated oil into her palm, and struggled to apply it to the wound.

At this moment, there was a knock on the door.

dong dong dong.

Dan Ying froze, instinctively grabbing the blanket to cover herself. "Senior brother? I... I really don't feel well, I'm already asleep..."

Her voice trembled slightly, not only because of the pain, but also because of her current disheveled state.

She didn't want Xiahou Wu to see her like this.

From a young age, she admired this senior brother. During the more than ten years she studied at Heyi Sect, she had been trying her best to catch up with him and become a woman worthy of him.

But now, I can't even wear pants; I feel like a useless person.

"Junior Sister?" Xiahou Wu's voice came from outside the door, tinged with an unusual weariness. "Are you asleep?"

Dan Ying's heart clenched.

She could hear the unease in her senior brother's voice; with one incident after another occurring in the martial arts world, he must be under immense pressure.

Normally, she would get up and talk to him, even if it was just sitting quietly.

but now……

"Senior brother, I have a terrible headache. Can we talk about it tomorrow?" She tried to make her voice sound normal.

There was a moment of silence outside the door.

"Okay, then you should get some rest." Xiahou Wu's voice gradually faded away. "Remember to apply the medicine; I left it at your door."

Dan Ying breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a little guilty.

She heard the footsteps disappear into the direction of the stairs before she lifted the blanket again and continued to apply the medicine with great difficulty.

The moment the medicated oil touched her skin, the burning sting made her gasp.

Just before he could exhale completely.

creak.

The sound of the window being gently pushed open.

Shan Ying suddenly looked up, her pupils shrinking sharply.

A dark figure had appeared before her bed, less than three feet away.

It was a man, lean and with an ordinary face that would be easily lost in a crowd, but his eyes... were cold.

"Shh." The man put his index finger to his lips, his voice low and steady, "Don't make a sound, or I'll rape you."

Dan Ying's mind went blank, and all the blood rushed to her head.

She wanted to scream, to grab the bedside lamp and smash it, but her body froze due to extreme fear and shame.

Feng Yuxiu scrutinized the body before him, his eyes devoid of lust, filled only with scrutiny.

Years of martial arts training have sculpted smooth and firm muscle lines, and his wheat-colored skin glows with a healthy sheen under the light.

Unlike the softness of ordinary women, Shan Ying's body is like a taut bowstring, with every inch of her muscles containing explosive power.

Unfortunately, this body is now trembling slightly due to pain and fear.

"Your skin is well-maintained." Feng Yuxiu reached out and gently ran his fingertips across Shan Ying's lower back. "Most martial artists are covered in bruises and calluses, but you have such smooth and delicate skin."

His touch gave Shan Ying goosebumps all over her body.

She wanted to resist, but the sword was standing at the door, and she had no other weapons at hand.

What's even more terrifying is the aura emanating from this man... a butcher's bloody smell.

"Who...who are you..." Shan Ying squeezed out the words through clenched teeth.

Feng Yuxiu didn't answer, his gaze falling on the bruises on her buttocks, and he raised an eyebrow: "I hit her."

Dan Ying stopped breathing.

"Don't worry, you won't die." Feng Yuxiu withdrew his hand, examining his "work" as if admiring a work of art. "It will just hurt for a while."

"You are...someone from the martial arts world?" Shan Ying's voice trembled. "Hong Ye and the others..."

"Shh." Feng Yuxiu interrupted her again, this time his ears twitched slightly.

Very faint footsteps came from the direction of the stairs.

Xiahou Wu left and then returned.

Shan Ying heard it too, and her face turned deathly pale instantly.

She was lying almost naked on the bed, and a strange man was standing beside her... If her senior brother saw this, her life would be over.

"Junior Sister?" Xiahou Wu's voice sounded from outside the door, hesitant. "Are you asleep? I... I have something I want to tell you."

Shan Ying bit her lower lip hard, her nails digging deep into her palms. She looked at Feng Yuxiu, her eyes full of pleading.

Feng Yuxiu smiled.

He leaned down, his lips almost touching Shan Ying's ear, his breath hot on her neck: "Beg me."

Tears welled up in Shan Ying's eyes.

"Beg me, and I won't let him see." Feng Yuxiu's hand caressed her body again, this time even more brazenly. "Otherwise... what do you think Xiahou Wu's reaction would be if he pushed the door open and saw his beloved junior sister being touched naked by another man?"

Xiahou Wu knocked on the door again: "Junior sister? Are you alright? I think I heard some noise coming from your room."

Dan Ying closed her eyes, and tears streamed down her face.

"Please...please." Her voice was barely audible, trembling with humiliation.

Feng Yuxiu straightened up with satisfaction, but his hand did not leave.

His fingertips traced the grooves of her back, as if playing a silent melody.

"Senior brother, I...I'm going to sleep..." Shan Ying forced herself to speak, but her voice changed due to Feng Yuxiu's sudden increased movement, "Ah!"

The short, startled cry made Xiahou Wu, who was outside the door, pause in surprise.

"Junior sister? What's wrong with you?"

"Senior brother... I'm fine! It's just... I just turned over and accidentally bumped my head on the headboard, it hurts a little."

She tried to make her voice sound like she had just been woken up, with a nasal tone, "I'm really tired, I want to sleep, let's talk about it tomorrow... tomorrow, okay?"

Xiahou Wu, standing outside the door, remained silent for a moment.

He could hear something unusual in his junior sister's voice, but that unusualness seemed to be attributable to physical discomfort and drowsiness.

The frustration he felt, the urge to confide in others, and the vague unease he felt were ultimately suppressed by his concern for his junior sister and a slight reluctance to force her to do something against her will.

"...Alright, then you should get some rest. If you're feeling really unwell, be sure to tell me." Xiahou Wu's voice carried a hint of helplessness and desolation as his footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing at the end of the corridor.

As she listened to her senior brother's footsteps fade into the distance, Shan Ying's extremely tense nerves relaxed slightly, but then a deeper despair welled up in her heart.

She knew that she was temporarily safe, but she had also fallen into the more complete control of the demon in front of her.

Feng Yuxiu did not remove his hand; instead, a hint of amusement flashed in his eyes at her quick-witted performance.

"A classic woman... I've heard that Hong Kong is quite open-minded, but I didn't expect you to still maintain such a traditional character..."

"So now... don't look at me like that... you're in pain, aren't you? I'm here to help you..."

Feng Yuxiu's gaze fell on Shan Ying's large buttocks. "The aura contained in that slap is not something that doctors in this society can cure. I've said it beforehand, I never force anyone."

"So……"

Feng Yuxiu bent down. "Do you want me to treat you? If you say no, I'll turn around and leave right now."

"Tell me, do you want me to heal you?"

Tick-tock.

The pendulum clock on the wall swayed gently, and Shan Ying bit her lip, gripping the corner of the blankets tightly with both hands. (End of Chapter)