Quickly conquer the martial arts world, and let your fists dominate the heavens!

Chen Zhan stood up, brushed the dust off the hem of his long robe, and bowed to Wang Wu, saying, "Brother Zhengyi, farewell. I have some business to attend to in Tianjin. If you have time, you might want to come and visit; perhaps you'll see some different sights."

Wang Wu, with bandages wrapped around his shoulder and blood seeping through, laughed heartily, "Good! Once things are settled here, I, Wang, will definitely come to Tianjin to find you for a few drinks!"

Tan Sitong stood aside, looking at Chen Zhan with a complicated expression.

This young man possesses an indescribable quality, resembling both a chivalrous wanderer and a revolutionary martyr. His actions are ruthless and decisive, yet he also leaves room for maneuver.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he only bowed deeply: "Take care, Mr. Chen."

Chen Zhan nodded slightly, turned around and walked out of the council hall.

The night wind blew in my face, carrying the smell of blood and coal ash.

His ears twitched slightly as he heard the sound of orderly footsteps coming from the southeast, the rubbing of armor plates, and the clash of swords and spears. They were not the leather boots of foreigners, but the cloth boots of the Qing army's Green Standard Army.

The Qing troops arrived quickly.

A cold smile appeared on Chen Zhan's lips, and with a swift movement, he had already darted several feet away.

Instead of fleeing, he went to meet the Qing soldiers.

In the darkness, he flipped his wrist, and several plum blossom darts appeared in his palm. These were hidden weapons seized from Yinmian Liu, made of fine steel, shaped like five-petaled plum blossoms, weighing three and a half qian, and best suited for striking air pockets and acupoints.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Several streaks of cold light shot through the air, precisely extinguishing the torches in the hands of the Qing soldiers.

Darkness descended instantly, and the group stirred.

"Over there! Grab him!"

Chen Zhan deliberately slowed his pace, revealing his figure in the moonlight; his blue robe stood out conspicuously in the night.

The Qing commander was overjoyed and pointed his sword at Chen Zhan: "Send a squad to pursue them! Don't let the traitor escape!"

Dozens of Qing soldiers broke away from the main force and chased after Chen Zhan.

Several more gunshots rang out, and lead bullets grazed Chen Zhan's clothes, sending dirt and stones flying.

Chen Zhan used the chicken-shaped step of Xingyi Quan, his toes touching the ground, his body moving like a crane soaring through the sky, and he quickly created distance with a few leaps.

He intentionally led the pursuers towards Tianjin, which was exactly the opposite of the route taken by the miners who were fleeing to Beijing.

The Fangshan area is mostly desolate wilderness with crisscrossing ravines.

Chen Zhan was familiar with the terrain, moving among the rocks and bushes. Sometimes he used the Baguazhang's wandering footwork to walk close to the ground, and sometimes he used the Xingyiquan's tiger pounce to leap over the earthen slope.

The Qing soldiers chasing behind were panting heavily, their torches flickering in the night wind, and the distance between them was growing ever wider.

Half an hour later, Chen Zhan had completely shaken off his pursuers, and his figure disappeared into the night like a ghost.

In the early hours of the morning, in the old city of Tianjin.

Chen Zhan pushed open the window of the Four Gates Inn, and saw that the lights in the concession area on the other side of the river were sparse.

About half an hour later, the concession area suddenly became abuzz with excitement.

They must have just received the news that the last batch of foreign-trained gunners died in the mines. This is a huge matter and cannot be ignored.

The gas lamps lit up one after another, illuminating the street.

The foreign troops began to assemble rapidly, and the sound of their boots hitting the ground could still be clearly heard across the river, thousands of meters away.

Chen Zhan watched coldly from the sidelines.

Only after the foreign-armed squad drove out of the concession and disappeared into the night did Chen Zhan close the window.

He changed into night clothes, covered his face with a black cloth, and tied his long hair up and hid it in a straw hat, only revealing his eyes.

Pushing open the window, my figure floated out like a falling leaf, and after a few undulations, I arrived at the wasteland behind the inn.

This meadow was neglected, and wild wormwood had grown to waist height.

Crossing the grassland, you'll reach the Jiulong River.

It was later collectively known as the Haihe River, and is still called the Jiulong River today. The river is about 100 meters wide. At night, the water ripples and the moonlight breaks into thousands of silver scales on the river surface.

Chen Zhan stood on the bank, not looking for a ferry, but stepped straight into the river.

"Splash—"

A ripple spread across the water's surface.

Chen Zhan stood in the water, the river water first covering his feet, then his ankles.

He continued to sink, his calves submerged in the water until his knees, before he finally stopped sinking.

The water should not be above knee-deep!

This is the manifestation of martial arts reaching the Dan realm.

After achieving the Elixir of Immortality, one's Qi and blood become unified, and one's strength can be unleashed from any point.

The subtle energy flowing in and out of the Yongquan acupoint on the sole of the foot achieves a delicate balance with the surface tension of the water.

With each step, it felt as if my feet were treading on invisible solid ground, the silt and undercurrents at the bottom of the water were pushed aside by the force, creating a brief hollow.

Chen Zhan walked slowly in the water, his pace not fast, but extremely steady.

The hidden force permeates the entire body, controlling the muscles to produce minute tremors that counteract the resistance of the water flow without causing the slightest disturbance.

Under the moonlight, his figure was like a black silhouette, drifting on the water, slowly moving from the left bank to the right bank.

Behind them, a hundred meters away, in a pile of dry grass, two dark figures were lying prone on the ground.

Zhu Changzai, known as Brother Pig, was a burly man in his thirties who was keeping an eye on the concession area.

Beside him was his partner, Erzhu, who was in his early twenties, skinny like a monkey, and was already yawning from sleepiness.

"Brother Pig, the foreigners are all gone, shall we leave too? We're just feeding the mosquitoes here." Erzhu muttered under his breath, scratching the red bump on his arm.

Just as Zhu Changzai was about to speak, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a dark shadow on the river out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his head sharply and, in the light coming from the concession area, saw a figure slowly walking towards him from the middle of the river.

The man was dressed in black and wore a straw hat. He stepped on the water, his knees and below submerged, but his upper body remained steady as he walked step by step in the river.

"Holy crap!"

Zhu Changzai nearly dropped the binoculars in his hand. "Zhu Zi, look at the river!"

Erzhu rubbed his eyes, took a closer look, and was so frightened that he sat down on the ground with a thud: "A ghost! A water ghost has come ashore!" The man in black walked to the other side, paused, and seemed to realize that someone was watching him. He slowly turned his head and glanced in the direction where they were hiding.

Although they were a hundred meters apart and the night was hazy, Zhu Changzai clearly felt a cold gaze piercing him, as if he were being stared at by a ferocious beast, and the hairs on his body stood on end.

The two quickly lay down, burying their heads in the grass, their hearts pounding like drums.

After waiting for a while, when I looked up again, the river was empty; the man in black had vanished.

“If it’s not a ghost, then it’s a person,” Zhu Changzai swallowed, his voice trembling.

"What should we do, you idiot?"

Erzhu's face turned deathly pale. "Senior Brother ordered us to keep an eye on the foreign concessions. Isn't that unusual?"

Zhu Changzai gritted his teeth: "Go report, I'll keep an eye on things here. It's already unusual for the foreigners to move their troops out of the city, and for such a skilled fighter to cross the river isn't unusual either. What is unusual?"

"Okay, I'll go!" Erzhu got up and ran southwest.

To the southwest, next to the slums, there is a narrow alley. At the end of the alley is a wonton shop with a dilapidated facade and mottled door panels.

This was the secret agent of the Yihe Incense Society.

On the surface, they sell wontons, but in reality, they are a reorganized underground organization of survivors from the turmoil of twenty years ago.

The shop owner, Wu Qingshan, was in his forties, with thick eyebrows, big eyes, and rough hands. He was sitting in the backyard sharpening a knife.

He was sharpening a cow-ear-shaped knife, the blade making a soft "chacha" sound on the whetstone.

During the day, Qin Ming came to deliver a letter, saying it was entrusted to him by Mr. Chen, who had recently caused a great stir by beheading Yinmian Liu and Tiezui Ma Liu, and that he should open it personally.

Wu Qingshan hesitated for a long time. That evil star was making too much noise, and he didn't know whether he was a friend or foe.

He had been lying low in Tianjin for many years, using the propagation of "curing diseases with talisman water" and "spirit possession" as a cover, while secretly contacting his old subordinates and plotting something big.

At this time, the various slogans of the Boxer Rebellion had not yet resounded throughout this land.

Therefore, neither the Qing court nor the foreigners took him seriously, regarding him merely as a folk superstitious group. On the contrary, it was ruthless characters like Chen Zhan, who were quick to kill, that made him wary.

But since the letter has arrived, I have no choice but to read it.

Wu Qingshan dried his hands and took the letter out of his pocket.

There was no signature on the envelope. He opened it, took out the letter, and froze after reading just a few lines.

"Judge, please proceed to the shrine of the divine talisman, protected by a golden bell and divine shield, with the words of Amitabha's teachings to subdue the three sides. Clad in iron helmet and armor, clad in iron clothing, with a golden roof and iron tower sealed by stone, you can be chopped by knives and axes with a single kick."

This is Master's mantra!

The Golden Bell and Iron Shirt techniques, passed down orally by the senior members of the Boxer Rebellion, were known in full only to the most core members.

Outsiders may think it's just a trick of the martial arts world, but little do they know that it's a genuine method for learning hard qigong. With the application of secret medicine, one can truly develop the ability to be invulnerable to swords and spears.

Wu Qingshan's hands trembled slightly as he continued reading.

The handwriting on the letter was vigorous and powerful, exuding a sense of martial prowess.
"Twenty years ago, the blood in Tianjin was still fresh, the yellow paper rose in smoke, and the gods abdicated. Now, foreigners run rampant, the court is corrupt, and the people are suffering. I wish to raise the banner of righteousness again, not to repeat the past, but to usher in a new era. I ask you, are you willing to join me in another great uprising?"

Wu Qingshan's pupils contracted.

Could this Chen Zhan really be a fellow disciple who got separated from us back then? Or perhaps the last disciple of some senior?
He eagerly turned to the next page, where it read: "The most important thing is to acquire the Jiajiagu Machinery Bureau."

Wu Qingshan gasped, nearly tearing the letter to shreds.

Jiajiagu Machinery Bureau!

That was the largest arsenal in the north under the jurisdiction of the Governor-General of Zhili and Minister of Beiyang, which manufactured gunpowder, guns, bullets, mines, and even exploding shells and artillery vehicles.

Heavily guarded by Qing troops and fortified with high walls, it was one of the lifelines of the imperial court.

If Wu Qingshan initially suspected that this was a trap set by the Qing government or foreigners, intending to lure them out, gather them together, and then wipe them all out in one fell swoop.

But after reading this part of the letter, he believed most of it.

Using this crazy idea as bait to lure and capture a few remnants of the Boxer Rebellion?
Unless the person who set this up is insane.

If word gets out, the newly appointed Governor-General of Zhili will be the first to have the person who set this up executed.

But this idea is too crazy.

What should the bureau do after robbing the machines?
Should we march into the concession area? Kill all the foreigners? Or should we rebel and become mountain bandits?
Wu Qingshan didn't understand.

He had already resigned himself to death, intending to one day, like his master, charge at the foreign gun squad with a knife and splatter blood everywhere.

But Chen Zhan's letter is a gamble with the lives of countless people. The question is, what are the chips on the gambling table?
Even if we succeed, and manage to steal a batch of gunpowder and firearms, what then?
What should they do in the face of the Qing government's warrant for their arrest?
To hide one's identity or to flee in panic?
Those things aren't easy to hide.
He looked at the letter over and over, and finally found a line of small print on the back of the letter:
"In the dead of night, at the Jin Gang Bridge, the pledge of loyalty."

Wu Qingshan stared at the words, his brows furrowed. A pledge of allegiance? What pledge of allegiance?

Just as he was pondering this, there was a rapid knocking on the front door.

"Senior Brother! Senior Brother!"

Erzhu's voice came from behind.

Wu Qingshan put away the letter, walked quickly to the front hall, and opened the wooden door.

Erzhu stumbled in, breathless: "Someone crossed the river on foot! Brother Zhu from the concession sent me to deliver this message!"

Wu Qingshan was stunned for a moment, then suddenly remembered the line of words on the back of the letter.

"In the middle of the night, at the Jin Gang Bridge"

He looked up at the sky; it was almost dawn.

Wu Qingshan grabbed the bull-ear-shaped dagger from the table, tucked it behind his waist, and said in a deep voice, "Gather the brothers, let's go to the Vajra Bridge."

"What are you doing, Senior Brother?" Erzhu asked.

"Let's see the Warlords' Pledge."

Wu Qingshan pushed open the back door and strode into the night. Behind him, a dozen dark figures emerged from various corners of the slum and headed towards the Jin Gang Bridge from different directions.

Why is it called the Golden Bridge?
Because of its special location.

At Jin Gang Bridge, the left bank is higher than the right bank, so you can see some of the situation inside the concession without crossing the bridge.

When Wu Qingshan arrived at Jingang Bridge, he looked towards the direction of the concession, but there was no movement, which puzzled him.

The letter mentioned the latter half of the night. (End of Chapter)