Republic of China era: Actor? Please call me Martial Arts Master!

Chapter 161 This person, the Huo family will protect him!

The morning mist in Tianjin always carries the lingering, damp smell of the Haihe River.

But the fog these past few days seems to carry a lingering smell of gunpowder and blood.

A full day and night has passed since the earth-shattering performance of "Battle of Taiping" at the Chinese Grand Theatre.

But in the bustling streets, teahouses, and taverns at the lower reaches of the nine rivers, the boiling energy not only didn't cool down, but instead seemed like a pot of boiling water with a strong fire added underneath, bubbling and gurgling.

"First drumbeat: Prepare the battle meal. Second drumbeat: Tighten your battle robes—"

At a breakfast stall in a no-man's-land in Nanshi, an old man with a hunched back, who had pulled a rickshaw his whole life, was holding a bowl of steaming hot "Gaba Cai" (a type of Sichuan street food). He started humming the Xipi Daoban (a type of traditional Chinese opera aria) from "Zhan Taiping" in a hoarse voice, following the tune of the erhu (a two-stringed bowed instrument).

He sang off-key and the tune was completely out of tune.

But none of the people eating breakfast around him, whether they were laborers carrying heavy loads or martial arts practitioners in shorts, laughed at him.

Even a fat man selling fried cakes, as he listened, his eyes reddened, and he slammed the strainer in his hand heavily against the edge of the oil pan, sighing.

"Even great generals cannot escape death on the battlefield—what a sage Master Lu! I listened to that play last night standing outside the theater."

.

"That voice, that blood-stained clothes, and that white waxwood stick that finally fell onto the stage."

"My goodness, I've never been to school and I don't know what it means to be loyal to one's country, but after hearing that roar last night, I went home and sharpened that rusty kitchen knife until it was shiny."

"you do not say!"

A schoolteacher in a long gown next to him pushed up his round-framed glasses and lowered his voice.

"You didn't see it. That so-called sword saint from the East, a grandmaster of the Transformation Realm, was knocked to his knees and died by Boss Lu's invisible fist wind on that small carpet."

"That was Lord Guan and General Hua Yun using Boss Lu's body to manifest their divine power!"

You can't silence the people.

Despite the police in the Japanese and French concessions posting notices all over the streets, strictly prohibiting any discussion of the events at the Grand Theater the previous night, violators would be punished for "disturbing the peace."

But the hearts of the million people in Tianjin had already been completely warmed by that drop of the Overlord's blood and tears and Hua Yun's swan song.

However, behind this boisterous revelry, within the circles of the upper echelons, dark clouds were gathering and a storm was brewing.

The Chief Inspector's Office, second floor of the Central Police Station in the French Concession.

The spacious office, which usually smelled of French perfume and cigars, was now filled with an air so thick it seemed to drip water.

Inspector Pierre slumped in the leather boss's chair, cold sweat soaking his meticulously styled blond hair, which clumped to his forehead.

Opposite him stood several Japanese military officers in khaki uniforms with general's swords at their waists, as well as a senior counselor from the Special Higher Police Department wearing a black suit.

"Mr. Pierre, the Japanese Empire's patience has its limits."

The Special Higher Police officer placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward.

"Lord Kazuo Funakoshi is a national treasure of the martial arts world of our Great Japanese Empire."

"He was murdered in a theater in your French Concession by that Chinese actor named Lu Cheng. This is an open declaration of war against the Empire."

"Why won't you let us in to take them?!"

Pierre swallowed hard, kept wiping his sweat with a silk handkerchief, and said with a wry smile.

"Counselor, please calm down."

"I also saw last night's report. It was a public duel where a death warrant was signed, and—Mr. Funakoshi himself jumped onto the stage. Legally speaking—"

"To hell with the law!"

A Japanese major general next to him suddenly drew half of his command sword, the glint of the blade reflecting on Pierre's pale face.

All I know is that the Chinese man is an extremely dangerous terrorist.

"He not only killed Lord Funakoshi, but also massacred the Dengyinglou and Hongkou Dojo. He wasn't human at all; he was a monster in human skin!"

In the major general's voice, besides anger, there was also a hint of fear.

Last night, the silent, penetrating punch in the theater not only shattered Funakoshi Kazuo's heart meridian, but also shattered the pride of these Japanese martial artists in their own martial arts.

They finally realized that the seemingly frail young man in the moon-white robe, if not locked up in Tianjin, could easily return to Beiping or infiltrate the shadows—

With his profound internal energy cultivation, which allowed him to sense the autumn wind before it even stirred, and his ability to kill with mere falling petals or plucked leaves, all the high-ranking officials of the Japanese Empire in North China had to sleep with one eye open.

"Inspector Pierre."

The counselor stopped the major general from drawing his sword and said coldly.

"I know that Mr. Mei Lanfang used his international connections. You originally planned to send a car to escort the Qingyun Troupe out of Tianjin by land, under the pretext of 'protecting the artist.'"

A cruel smile crept across the counselor's lips.

"But now, things have changed."

"The Imperial Military has issued the highest order: Lu Cheng must not leave Tianjin alive!"

Pierre was startled.

"What do you want to do? This is a foreign concession. If this provokes a large-scale bloodshed—"

"There's no need to take action within the concession area."

The counselor walked to the window and pointed to the Haihe River, whose waves were surging in the distance.

"Our Great Japanese Empire's 'Izumo' and two destroyers have blockaded the Haihe River estuary."

"On the land route, the railway lines and highways leading to Beiping have been set up with the highest level of military checkpoints, and Maxim machine guns have been set up."

"From now on, Tianjin will only allow entry, not exit."

The counselor turned around and stared at Pierre.

"You can continue to pretend to be neutral and not hand over the people."

"But as long as Lu Cheng dares to set foot in the concession area, whether by water or land, he will be met with the Empire's naval cannons and machine gun positions."

"No matter how skilled you are in martial arts, can you withstand a salvo of cannon fire?"

Inspector Pierre slumped into his chair, his face ashen.

He knew it was over.

Faced with the machinery of the state and heavy firepower, a martial arts master will ultimately only end up being reduced to ashes.

This time, Lu Cheng was truly driven to the brink of despair.

Meanwhile, in Weihuajie, Tianjin, there was a secluded and quiet mansion.

Hidden among ancient pine trees, the house features blue bricks and gray tiles, flying eaves and brackets. There are no plaques on the gate, but the two huge white marble lions at the entrance, weathered by time, exude the noble heritage passed down for hundreds of years.

This is the Huo family's old residence, the most hidden martial arts family in Tianjin.

-

Unlike other martial arts sects that open schools, recruit disciples, and compete for fame and fortune, the Huo family's profound foundation and abundant wealth have long transcended the ordinary realm of the martial arts world.

In this lower reaches of the Nine Rivers, there are vast and deeply entrenched forces in both the legitimate and criminal worlds, as well as in the military and political spheres.

Inside the study, the air was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.

A young man in his early twenties, dressed in a well-tailored British three-piece suit and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, stood blankly in front of the desk.

His name is Fok Chun-hsiao, the first in line to inherit the Fok family in this generation.

The young master of the Huo family, who usually dominated the business world in Tianjin and chatted with the heads of major foreign firms, now had red eyes and was clutching a crumpled copy of the Ta Kung Pao newspaper tightly in his hand.

The newspaper prominently featured a blurry photo of Lu Cheng on stage last night, dressed in blood, leaning on a broken gun, singing a mournful song to the heavens.

"I would gladly die for my friend, and leave behind a loyal heart to shine in history."

Huo Zhenxiao's lips trembled slightly as he softly recited the line from the opera.

As he read, two streams of hot tears unexpectedly slid down his handsome face, dripping onto the floor and shattering into pieces.

He cried.

This young master, who controlled the lifelines of several major docks and numerous cotton mills in Tianjin, actually cried like a wronged child.

"Zhenxiao, what's wrong?"

Behind the desk, in a grand chair, sat an elderly man with white hair and beard, wearing a dark blue robe with a subtle auspicious pattern.

Huo Qingshan, the patriarch of the Huo family.

The old man held two jade-like lion's head walnuts in his hands. Looking at his usually calm and experienced grandson's out-of-control appearance, a hint of surprise flashed in his usually placid old eyes.

"grandfather----"

Huo Zhenxiao raised his head, his voice slightly choked.

He strode to the desk, spread the newspaper in front of the old man, and pointed at the picture of the actor in blood-stained clothes.

"Last night—my grandson was in the audience."

"I watched with my own eyes as he, in Tianjin, a city where foreigners swaggered and traitors ran rampant, dressed in the most shabby, tattered, blood-stained clothes, single-handedly punched that arrogant Japanese grandmaster, forcing him to his knees on the stage!"

Huo Zhenxiao's chest heaved violently, and the light in his eyes was dazzling.

"Grandpa, do you know? I also learned boxing when I was a child, and I also practiced the San Ti stance."

"I once dreamed that one day I could be like my ancestors, wielding a three-foot sword to sweep away the injustices of the world and become a towering martial arts hero!"

He abruptly ripped open his expensive suit tie, as if it were a rope binding his soul.

"But—but I am the eldest grandson of the Huo family!"

"The family business, the livelihoods of thousands of people, the attitudes of the foreigners in the concession, the extortion of the warlords—all of this forced me to put down my fists, put on this Western suit, and learn those deceitful tricks and hypocritical tactics."

"I think that times have changed, firearms are now dominant, and the backbone of warriors has long become a joke."

Huo Zhenxiao pointed at Lu Cheng's picture in the newspaper, and tears welled up in his eyes again.

"But he—he did something I never even dared to dream of in my entire life!"

"He was fearless in the face of power and death. On stage, he was Hua Yun, who would rather die than submit. Off stage, he was a true immortal protecting his compatriots."

"Grandpa, this world should have people like Lu Cheng living."

"If even this backbone is broken by foreigners, then the soul of us Chinese people will truly be scattered!"

'

By the end, Huo Zhenxiao was sobbing uncontrollably.

With a thud, he knelt heavily on both knees in front of Old Master Huo.

This kneeling is not a grandson paying respects to his grandfather.

"Grandpa, I know that the family has a rule: do not get involved in factional strife, and do not provoke foreigners."

Huo Zhenxiao raised his head, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

"But today, your grandson wishes to exercise his privilege as the first in line to inherit the Huo family's throne!"

"I must protect him! I must ensure Lu Cheng leaves Tianjin safely!"

The study was deathly silent.

The only sound was the hissing of burning sandalwood in the bronze incense burner.

Grandpa Huo stopped spinning the walnuts in his hand.

He quietly watched his grandson kneeling on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

In a daze, the old man's eyes became somewhat unfocused.

He seemed to pierce through the mists of time and see the Year of Gengzi fifty years ago.

At that time, he was the same age, and just as passionate.

Dressed in shorts and carrying a large knife, he wanted to go to the forts in Tianjin to fight those blond-haired, blue-eyed foreign devils.

As a result, his father tied him tightly to the old locust tree in the backyard with a rope, and he watched helplessly as his compatriots fell under the guns and cannons, shedding blood and tears for a day and a night.

"well----"

A long, drawn-out sigh echoed in the study.

Old Master Huo slowly stood up, walked to Huo Zhenxiao, and extended his withered but strong hands to help his grandson up.

The old man's eyes had reddened slightly without him noticing.

"Silly child—"

Old Master Huo patted Huo Zhenxiao on the shoulder, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

"Your stubborn and inflexible temperament is just like mine when I was young."

"Truly worthy of being my own grandson, Huo Qingshan!"

Huo Zhenxiao was stunned and looked at his grandfather in disbelief.

"Grandpa, you—you agreed?"

"Since there are still people in Tianjin who dare to stand up for us Chinese, if our Huo family doesn't even dare to do a favor, wouldn't this century-old martial arts family become nothing more than a coward with no real reputation?"

Old Master Huo's eyes sharpened, and the martial aura he had hidden in his wealthy hometown for decades suddenly erupted.

"The Japanese want to blockade the Haihe River and use warships to intercept it?"

The old man sneered, turned around and walked to the desk, picking up the black crank telephone on the table.

"They seem to have forgotten whose domain this lower reaches of the nine rivers, this surface of the Hai River, truly belongs to!"

Grandpa Huo answered the phone, his voice steady.

"Hello, is this Lao Chang?"

"Pass on my message. All merchant ships under the Huo family's name in the port should be started and preheated."

"Also, go and give a message to Yuan Laoba of the Green Gang. Tell him that I, Huo Qingshan, said that with the nation in crisis, those shady grudges should be put aside for now. Tell him to bring out all the ships he owns that are involved in the canal transport and smuggling!"

"The fog will rise at midnight tomorrow night."

"I want the Haihe River to be filled with hundreds of boats racing and thousands of sails competing."

"Create a maze for that Grandmaster Lu!"

The phone hangs up.

Huo Zhenxiao was so excited that his breathing became rapid.

"Grandpa, will this 'bait and switch' scheme work? The foreign warships have searchlights."

"As long as there are enough ships and the water is muddy enough, even if they have eyes in the sky, they wouldn't dare to fire indiscriminately, unless they want to wage a complete war against the entire business community and both the legitimate and underworld of Tianjin!"

Old Master Huo's eyes gleamed.

Then, he looked at Huo Zhenxiao, and his tone suddenly became somewhat meaningful.

"However, Zhenxiao, our Huo family has gone to such great lengths and taken such great risks."

"Grandpa has a condition."

"Grandpa, please tell me!"

"Go and make the arrangements."

"9

Old Master Huo pointed outside the door.

"Before the ship sets sail tomorrow night, go to the National Hotel in person and meet Master Lu."

"Grandpa wants you, as the young master of the Huo family, to have a match with him."

"What?!"

Huo Zhenxiao was shocked. "Grandpa, Master Lu is a master of the Transformation Realm. My meager skills are like trying to teach a fish to swim!"

"I'm not asking you to risk your life."

The old man shook his head.

"It means you should go and 'seek advice'."

"Lu Cheng's martial arts have transcended the limitations of any particular sect, subtly hinting at the potential to establish a new school and directly grasp the ultimate Dao. You've been stuck at the peak of Dark Force for so long, lacking precisely this 'heaven-breaking' spirit."

"Go and feel the divine aura emanating from him. If he could give you even a simple pointer, it would be worth ten years of your arduous cultivation."

"Go ahead and get ready."