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

Inside the Hong Kong police morgue, cold white lights shone on the metal autopsy table, where three bodies lay silently, their wounds shocking to behold.

Xiahou Wu stood to the side, his brows furrowed, the analysis of the martial arts elder from the inland echoing in his ears.

"Subduing Demons Skill... This is the domineering martial art of the Wang family of the Southern School." The old senior was nearly eighty years old, with white hair and beard, but his eyes were bright and piercing. He pointed to the indentation on the chest of one of the corpses, "Look at this palm print. The five fingers are slightly curled inward. When exerting force, the energy is concentrated in the palm three inches. This is the characteristic of the Wang family's Subduing Demons Skill."

He paused, shook his head and sighed, "There are hardly any people left in this lineage. I remember the last successor was from the Hai generation, named Wang Haisheng. He opened a martial arts school in Guangdong thirty years ago, and then disappeared. But with his martial arts skills, it's impossible that he killed these three people. These people were no ordinary people either."

Superintendent Lu Xuanxin stood to the side, impeccably dressed in a black suit, taking notes in her notebook.

"Are there any other clues?" she pressed.

The old man walked toward the second corpse, squatted down to examine the leg wounds closely, and squinted his eyes: "This kick... is interesting. Look at the distribution of force in this kick. The right foot is obviously much stronger than the left foot, but the landing point is very precise."

He stood up and demonstrated a kicking motion: "The biggest fear for martial artists is an unstable lower body. A person with an unstable lower body cannot deliver such a precise strike. Therefore, this person may have been born with legs of different lengths, but through years of hard training, he has turned this defect into a unique characteristic."

Lu Xuanxin's eyes lit up: "Legs of different lengths? That's a very obvious feature!"

"As for the wounds on this third person..." The old man walked to the third autopsy table, his brows furrowing even more. "They are mixed with a complete madness. Look at these wounds. They are clearly the starting stance of the Eight Desolations and Six Harmonies Technique, but the subsequent variations completely disregard the rules. It's like... like the work of someone who has gone mad while practicing martial arts."

Xiahou Wu finally spoke, his voice low: "Senior, are you sure the second murderer had legs of different lengths? Is this a common feature in the martial arts world?"

The old man looked at Xiahou Wu with a complicated expression: "Xiahou, you were quite a figure back in the day. This kind of characteristic is not common, but I happen to know someone who should be a master from the Anhui and Zhejiang area."

The old man said meaningfully, "Moreover, I heard that there is something wrong with the family martial arts he practices. It seems to be an ancient martial art, a fragment passed down from Kunlun. I don't know exactly what it is. That kind of thing is too ancient, and it's hard to tell if it's real or fake."

Lu Xuanxin couldn't help but interject, "Ancient martial arts? What are those? Are they more powerful than the martial arts you practice now?"

The senior and Xiahou Wu exchanged a glance and both gave a wry smile.

“Superintendent Lu, let me put it this way,” Xiahou Wu explained, “most of the martial arts we practice now are passed down from the Ming and Qing dynasties, and they have complete systems and theories. As for ancient martial arts… those are even more ancient things, some of which are rumored to be traced back to the pre-Qin period, but their authenticity is unverifiable. Even if they were, the lineage would have been broken long ago, with only some fragmented manuals circulating in the martial arts world.”

"Alright, alright," Lu Xuanxin waved his hand impatiently. "I received a modern scientific education. I believe in science. Ancient martial arts and internal energy techniques sound like something out of a martial arts novel."

She closed her notebook and looked at the senior: "Anyway, thank you for your help. At least now we know that the second murderer may have legs of different lengths, the first one used the Wang Family's Demon Subduing Technique... he might be a madman."

The senior nodded: "Then I'll be going now? I have an appointment with the Hong Kong Martial Arts Association; a few old guys want to get together."

"Take care." Lu Xuanxin politely saw him out.

Only Lu Xuanxin and Xiahou Wu remained in the morgue.

The air conditioner was humming, and the air was filled with the smell of disinfectant.

Lu Xuanxin took a deep breath and turned to look at Xiahou Wu: "Now you know, right? It's not just one person, it's a sect or at least a group of people who are related... It's not just Peng Qianwu acting alone, but there may be a more complicated feud in the martial arts world."

Xiahou Wu frowned, his fingers unconsciously tapping the metal edge of the dissection table: "I still think the second one's style of doing things is exactly the same as Peng Qianwu's in his early years. I've studied him. Twenty years ago, he committed three murders in the north. They were all like this: first, provoke, then challenge, and finally kill, and he specifically targeted experts."

"But Peng Qianwu has disappeared! His martial arts school is gone too!" Lu Xuanxin suddenly widened her eyes. "Wait, why did he disappear? Are you sure he really disappeared, or... just changed his identity and hid?"

Xiahou Wu hesitated for a moment: "I only said that his style of doing things is very similar to Peng Qianwu's, but his moves... I never saw Peng Qianwu fight back then. But I heard from the older generation that his family's martial arts did have problems, and it seems that practicing them for a long time would affect one's mind."

"Then what's the principle behind it?" Lu Xuanxin pressed. Although she said she didn't believe in these things, as a police officer, she couldn't let any clue slip by.

Xiahou Wu gave a wry smile: "I've only heard rumors about ancient martial arts. It's said that some ancient cultivation methods require specific breathing techniques and mental states. If you practice them incorrectly or your mental state isn't strong enough, you might indeed go into qi deviation, which could lead to mental confusion or even severed meridians. But these are just rumors; I've never seen them with my own eyes."

"Alright, I understand." Lu Xuanxin rubbed his temples. "Let's investigate based on the existing clues first. I'll have the technical department pull up the files of all martial artists with leg ailments, especially those with legs of different lengths. As for the Wang Family Subduing Demon Skill... the Southern Wang Family, check if there are any descendants still alive."

She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at Xiahou Wu: "Xiahou, how is your junior sister? I heard she was injured recently?"

Xiahou Wu's eyes flickered: "He's much better now, he's recuperating at the martial arts school."

“Protect her well,” Lu Xuanxin said solemnly. “This group of people specifically targets martial arts masters, and your junior sister is also a well-known figure.”

Xiahou Wu nodded, but a hint of unease flashed in his eyes.

-

Foshan, the backyard of Heyi Martial Arts Hall.

Dan Ying sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, holding a boxing manual in her hand, but she couldn't concentrate on reading a single word.

Her injuries have almost healed, at least on the surface.

After several nights of treatment, the deep palm print on my left shoulder has now faded to a faint red mark.

But Shan Ying knew that once some things changed, they could never be the same again.

She recalled those nights when Feng Yuxiu's palm was on her shoulder, and his warm internal energy slowly seeped in, bringing a strange tingling sensation that spread from her shoulder to her whole body.

At first she was able to remain alert, but after the third treatment, she found herself actually starting to look forward to that feeling.

"Damn it." Shan Ying cursed herself under her breath, shaking her head violently, trying to shake those images out of her mind.

She is the deputy head of the Heyi Sect, Xiahou Wu's junior sister, and a well-known heroine in the Foshan martial arts community.

She shouldn't have done that; she shouldn't have developed feelings for that man just because of a few nights of treatment...

What would happen? Shan Ying dared not think about it too much.

Feng Yuxiu was very proper; during treatment, he did not overstep any boundaries except for necessary contact.

But his eyes, those unfathomable eyes, always made her feel like she was being peeled away bit by bit, all her defenses and pretenses were exposed under his gaze.

Even more frightening is that Shan Ying discovers some of her hidden characteristics, which Feng Yuxiu seems to know.

During the treatment last night, he casually mentioned that she should keep her old left leg injury warm. Indeed, she had a hidden injury on the inside of her left thigh from practicing martial arts when she was a child, something that even Xiahou Wu was unaware of.

How could he know?
What she feared even more was that she didn't actually dislike the feeling of being seen through.

-

Hong Kong, Hung Hing branch.

The meeting room was filled with smoke.

Seated on either side of the long table were the leaders and elders of various Hung Hing branches, each with a gloomy expression. Chan Ho-nam stood in front of the table, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the tattoo on his forearm. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were sharp as knives.

"Chan Ho-nam, do you dare swear under the lamp that you didn't kill the prince? Do you dare?"

The fat, burly elder of the Crown Prince's Hall suddenly slammed his fist on the table and stood up, his face trembling with rage.

Chan Ho-nam looked at him coldly: "I've already said it, I didn't kill the Crown Prince."

“Words are meaningless!” Another member of the Crown Prince faction stood up. “Jiang Tianyang of Tung Ying has already declared that anyone who gets involved with Hung Yip will be held accountable! Hung Yip is a martial arts star and a member of the martial arts world. Now that his master is dead and his senior brother is dead, who will be next? We, Hung Hing, must unite now. If we remain as free and disorganized as we were a few years ago, we might all die in this storm!”

An elderly man with white hair slowly stood up. He was an uncle of Hung Hing and was highly respected.

The old man sighed, his gaze sweeping across the room before finally settling on Chan Ho-nam:

“Chan Ho-nam, you’re a veteran of Hung Hing. From being the boss of Causeway Bay to now, through all these years of ups and downs, everyone trusts you because you’re loyal. But now this matter concerns the survival of the entire Hung Hing. We demand an explanation from you: Prince, did you kill him?”

All eyes in the conference room were on Chen Haonan.

Chen Haonan's gaze slowly swept over the old men on his left. The plan to kill the prince was clearly supported by them in secret.

At the time, they said the crown prince was colluding with outsiders and wanted to seize the territory, so they had to strike first.
Now, when faced with questions from other groups, these people are all keeping their eyes down and pretending nothing's wrong.

In that instant, Chan Ho-nam felt as if he had returned to a few years ago.

The crow's betrayal, the pheasant's departure, the sweet potato's death... all these scenes flashed before my eyes.

What morality or loyalty do gangsters have?
Gangs are full of ugly human scheming; they're brothers today, but they can stab each other in the back tomorrow.

He went away to lay low for a few years, and when he came back he thought things would be different, but he found that the group of people were still the same.

They always watch others die, and always feel it's none of their business.

The so-called brotherhood of the underworld is just talk for fools. There is only one real rule for survival: who is more ruthless and who can pretend the best.

Chan Ho-nam twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a cold smile.

He raised his right hand, his middle and index fingers together, pointing to the fluorescent light above his head:
"I, Chan Ho-nam, swear before the lamp that I did not kill the prince. If I am lying, may I be struck by lightning and die a horrible death."

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Swearing an oath before a lamp was an extremely solemn vow in the past.

Older generations of hoodlums believed in this, just like people from Fujian believe in Mazu.

But these days, young people don't care about these things anymore. The so-called rules of the underworld are worthless in the face of profit.

The fat corpse gritted its teeth, its fists clenched so tightly they cracked, but there was nothing it could do.

Chan Ho-nam has already sworn an oath; any further questioning would be a complete breakdown in relations.

Hung Hing is currently facing internal and external troubles; a complete breakdown in relations would benefit no one.

“Alright, we’ll trust you this time.” The old man, of the uncle generation, slowly sat down. “But Hao Nan, the prince is dead, his territory can’t be thrown into chaos. You’re the head of Causeway Bay, so keep an eye on the prince’s side lately and don’t let outsiders take the opportunity to cause trouble.”

Chan Ho-nam nodded: "Understood."

The meeting of the gang ended just like that, and Chan Ho-nam nominally became the leader of Hung Hing again.

His appeal brought those wavering young people back to stay.

"Boss, the Tung Ying gang and those cops are still searching for people all over Hong Kong, but it has already caused resistance from the citizens."

Chan Ho-nam sat on the leather sofa, listening to his underling's report with a smile. "It's that big, that's for sure. And if things continue like this, a gang cooperating with the cops is unheard of... When that alarms the Hong Kong garrison... let's see how they explain themselves."

"Boss, we can't find the one you asked us to find. Hong Kong isn't too big or too small, and the brothers have been sent out, so we can't find him anytime soon."

Chan Ho-nam thought for a moment, "You guys keep looking, anyway, the gang's business is pretty stable right now."

"Is the golden tiger on Portland Street still active?"

"Still the same. I heard he's been harassing Thirteen Sister... The two groups often fight."

Chan Ho-nam chuckled, "Golden Tiger still has the same mindset as over a decade ago. What kind of money can you make by opening a slot machine arcade? Let's wait and see when Tung Ying stops this attack and merges Portland Street together."

Golden Tiger from Portland Street is a nobody; any gang could easily merge with him with a little effort.

Dongying doesn't think much of it, and it plans to continue down the path of whitewashing.

Hung Hing is a place of internal strife...

As for Zhong Yixin, Lian Haolong and his gang were still secretly making a fortune by selling white sugar.

They had no business dealings with Hung Hing and Tung Ying, which is why the three major gangs were able to remain strong.

"Don't do anything for now, let's wait until Dongying is over before we talk about it."

Chan Ho-nam was also wary of Tung Ying. While Hung Hing was still wielding kitchen knives to kill people, Tung Ying had already dominated Hong Kong's entertainment industry.

All the famous Miss Hong Kong contestants are under their command, and they can even easily turn an ordinary celebrity into a superstar overnight.

Jackie Chan, Jet Li... but the most famous is Chingmy Yau.

She brazenly hung advertisements on various high-rise buildings, and through such conspicuous exposure, she was elevated to the status of a pure and innocent beauty.

Therefore, the Tung Ying's foundation was extremely formidable, and Hung Hing dared not touch them.

However, some unclean aspects from the last century still remain within them, which is one of Feng Yuxiu's tasks: to remove all those unclean aspects and leave behind a pristine environment for the entertainment industry.

"That's all for now. Hung Hing should not make any moves recently."

"Understood, boss." (End of Chapter)