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

Chapter 162 The Huo Family's Mysterious Fist

National Hotel, penthouse suite.

While the outside world was in turmoil, this house was a haven of tranquility, undisturbed by worldly affairs.

Inside the brass gramophone, a recording of Boss Mei's "The Drunken Beauty" was playing.

Lu Cheng, dressed in a loose and comfortable white silk jacket, leaned against the chaise lounge in front of the French windows, holding a thread-bound tattered copy of the Tai Chi Manual, engrossed in reading it.

Since obtaining the "Baodan Pre-Experience Card" that night and integrating it into his own persona, Lu Cheng's temperament has undergone a dramatic change.

He used to be like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath; even if he tried to conceal it, people could still feel its sharpness that could cut through skin.

But now, he is like a piece of warm jade that has been polished for thousands of years.

His breath was completely contained; the sounds of his heartbeat, breathing, and even the flow of blood were almost nonexistent under his deliberate control.

"Tai Chi originates from Wuji, is the mechanism of movement and stillness, and is the mother of Yin and Yang."

Lu Cheng gently turned the pages of the book.

In his mind, the strange scene of "Zhong Kui controlling the tiger" that night and the incantations on this boxing manual kept evolving.

Strength and gentleness, movement and stillness.

Within his body, a perfect cycle was subtly forming within the heavy, lead- and mercury-like Qi and blood.

"Master."

Shunzi pushed open the door and came in, carrying a plate of washed purple-skinned garlic, a specialty of Tianjin, and two cucumbers with flowers and thorns still attached.

"The Western food in this restaurant is so bland, I went to the kitchen and asked for some scallions and garlic. I'll ask Lao Liu to make some sauce for us later, so we can have some noodles with soybean paste."

Shunzi put down the plate, looked out the window, lowered his voice, and a lingering worry crossed his face.

"Master, something seems wrong outside."

"I just went to the end of the corridor and saw that the streets across from the hotel have all been blocked off by Japanese soldiers."

"Even the police from the French Concession have been withdrawn. I heard that warships have even been brought over from the Haihe River. They're determined not to let us leave."

Lu Cheng put down the boxing manual, picked up a cucumber, and took a bite.

"What's the panic?"

Lu Cheng chewed slowly.

"If it's going to rain, it's going to rain; if a mother wants to remarry, let them seal it off."

"But there are so many of us, this opera troupe of dozens of people, and all those opera trunks—"

Shunzi scratched his head in frustration.

Just then, the door was knocked on three times in a very rhythmic manner.

"Mr. Lu, it's me."

A low voice came from outside the door from Master Yuan, the leader of the Green Gang.

"Enter."

Master Yuan pushed open the door and entered. Today, he wasn't wearing his conspicuous silk jacket; instead, he had changed into an inconspicuous gray cloth outfit and a tattered felt hat, making him look like an ordinary dockworker.

"Eighth Master, thank you for making this trip in person." Lu Cheng stood up and nodded slightly.

"Brother Lu, in this urgent situation, I'll be quick to act and won't stand on ceremony."

Master Yuan took off his felt hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"We're saved! We have a way out!"

Lu Cheng's expression shifted slightly: "Oh? The Japanese warships have blockaded the Haihe River, what other options do they have?"

"It's the Huo family!"

Master Yuan walked quickly to the table, lowered his voice, and spoke with great admiration.

"Old Master Huo personally gave the order, mobilizing all their resources in the Tianjin business community. Not only that, they also united with our Green Gang, the Hongmen, and several patriotic chambers of commerce."

"Tomorrow night at midnight, take advantage of the night fog rising over the Haihe River."

"We will have a full thirty identical merchant ships and coal carriers, setting sail simultaneously from various docks, all heading out to sea along the Haihe River!"

Eighth Master Yuan gestured excitedly to indicate his name.

"This is called passing off inferior goods as superior ones."

"No matter how powerful the Japanese gunboats are, they wouldn't dare to indiscriminately bombard thirty civilian ships flying the flags of various countries right under the nose of this concession. That would provoke international outrage."

"At that time, our Qingyun troupe will break up into smaller groups and sneak onto one of the ships in batches. We can then sail out to sea without anyone noticing, either heading south or directly back to Beiping."

As Lu Cheng listened, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes, which then turned into a look of emotion.

The Huo family.

He had never met the Huo family before, and had even injured a member of a collateral branch of the Huo family from the Simin Martial Arts Club.

Unexpectedly, at this critical juncture of life and death, this old man, whom we had never met before, was willing to devote all the resources of his family to this opera singer, even at the risk of offending the Japanese and having his entire family wiped out, to set up such a shocking scheme.

"The righteous are often the lowly butchers, and the chivalrous women emerge from the dust of the world."

"This martial arts family has not lost the backbone of its ancestors."

Lu Cheng sighed softly, and the pent-up frustration in his heart from days of killing seemed to dissipate somewhat.

"Please thank Old Master Huo for his kindness on my behalf." Lu Cheng solemnly clasped his hands in thanks.

"Brother Lu, don't rush to say thank you."

Master Yuan smiled, took out a gold-embossed envelope from his pocket, and handed it to Lu Cheng.

"Although the Huo family is righteous, this scheme is far too elaborate. Huo Zhenxiao, the young master of the Huo family, asked me to pass on a message to you."

"He said that he had long admired your reputation and was extremely fascinated by the martial arts spirit you displayed on the stage."

"Tomorrow night at midnight, before boarding the ship at the dock, he wants to have a match with you in the Huo family's secret warehouse."

"A friendly spar?"

Upon hearing this, Shunzi frowned again.

"What time is it? Escaping is the priority, what's the point of sparring?"

Lu Cheng, however, was not angry.

He took the envelope, looked at the three strong characters "Huo Zhenxiao" on it, and smiled slightly.

With a single glance, he discerned the thoughts of the young master of the Huo family.

This is not a friendly sparring match; it is clearly a young man whose martial arts dreams have been suppressed by the heavy burden of his family, yearning for an insurmountable peak.

She wanted to use his help to break through the martial arts illusions in her heart.

"it is good."

Lu Cheng carefully put the envelope away, his eyes clear.

"They risked their lives to pave the way for us; how could I, Lu, refuse such a small request?"

"Go back and tell Young Master Huo."

"Tomorrow night at midnight, at the dock warehouse. I, Lu, will certainly not hesitate to offer my guidance."

Once midnight passes, the night in Tianjin is as if it has been tightly covered by a black cotton cloth soaked in ink.

Especially along the Haihe River, the dew is even heavier.

The lingering cold of March hadn't completely dissipated when, just as Master Yuan had predicted, a thick white fog rose over the river.

The fog was so thick it couldn't be dispersed, carrying the earthy and salty smell unique to the Haihe River; you could only see a blurry figure ten steps away.

The river wind blew across the water, hitting people's faces like a dull knife cutting flesh—cold and hard.

"Waaaaah—! Waaaaah—!"

Deep within the fog, the muffled sound of steam horns rose and fell.

Through the layers of thick fog, one could vaguely see thirty merchant ships with very deep drafts neatly moored on the Haihe River.

These boats were identical in size, design, and even the black paint on their hulls. Windproof lanterns hung from their masts, casting dim, yellowish patches of light in the fog.

The ship was being prepared for a fire, the roar of the boilers suppressed in the hold, but the tense atmosphere of anticipation and impending doom spread along the river to the entire dock.

This is the heritage of the Huo family, a long-established family in Tianjin.

Thirty identical merchant ships will set sail simultaneously tonight in the thick fog, staging a true "deception".

Even if the Japanese had many naval patrol boats, they couldn't distinguish which one was the real target in the thick fog on the river.

Beside the dock, next to an inconspicuous abandoned pier.

Dozens of dark figures, like ghosts in the night, arrived silently.

There was not a sound, not even the sound of footsteps was deliberately suppressed to the minimum.

It was the entire Qingyun troupe, young and old, along with the four rescuing figures from the Northern martial arts world: Liu Wenhua, Yang Chengfu, and others.

Lu Cheng walked at the front of the group, his moon-white robe standing out conspicuously in the thick fog, yet exuding an indescribable composure.

"Master Lu, the boat is ready."

In the darkness, an old man dressed in a gray cloth jacket and wearing a tattered felt hat came forward. He was none other than Yuan Baye, the leader of the Tianjin Green Gang.

He lowered his voice and glanced around warily.

"Of these thirty ships, only ships number three and seven are actually going to Tongzhou in Beiping; the rest are just a smokescreen."

"The Japanese Special Higher Police are now acting like mad dogs, biting indiscriminately in the concession. We can't stay here any longer. Let's get everyone on the ship quickly."

Lu Cheng nodded slightly and turned to look at the crowd behind him.

The disciples of Qingyun Troupe, including Shunzi, Lufeng, Xiaodouzi, Qinglian, Hongyu, and other young actors, all clutched their bundles tightly. Although their eyes betrayed their nervousness, they were surprisingly quiet and well-behaved.

"Master," Lu Cheng called softly.

Zhou Daikui quickly stepped forward, his old face appearing somewhat pale in the mist, clutching tightly the shrine box containing the ancestral master's tablet and the official seal.

"Chengzi, you—you're not coming with us?"

Zhou Daikui understood the meaning behind Lu Cheng's words, and his voice trembled.

Lu Cheng reached out and patted Zhou Daikui's shoulder firmly, sending a warm, subtle force through him that instantly dispelled the chill in the old man's heart.

"As the opera goes, 'A thousand armies flee from the white-robed warrior,' but in this drama of Changban Slope, Zhao Zilong must stay behind to cover the retreat in order to ensure the safety of his family."

Lu Cheng smiled calmly.

"This Tianjin area hasn't been completely cleaned up yet. If I leave now, these thirty ships might not even be able to get out of Dagu Port."

"Master!"

Lu Feng panicked and placed his hand on Wei Er's single-edged sword.

"I'll come down and keep you company. What are these Japanese devils? We'll fight them if necessary."

"Nonsense."

Lu Cheng unfolded his folding fan and gently tapped Lu Feng on the head.

"On stage, there are no distinctions of rank; off stage, rules must be observed."

"Have you forgotten what I taught you, son? Your mission is to lead your fellow disciples and protect the troupe leader and several senior masters back to Beiping safely. That's the job a great general should do."

He turned to look at the four grandmasters and clasped his hands slightly in greeting.

"Brother Liu, Elder Yang, and all the seniors, I, Lu, will take care of clearing up this mess for you all."

"Go back to Beiping and take good care of yourself. The spirit of Chinese martial arts still depends on our predecessors."

Old Master Liu Wenhua's eyes reddened, and he stepped forward to hold Lu Cheng'er's hand tightly. All his words, in the end, were reduced to just one sentence.

"Brother Lu, take care! We're in Beiping, keeping a celebratory drink warm for you!"

Under the arrangement of Master Yuan, Jia Chun, Xing Tou Xiang, and four old masters of the Qingyun Troupe split into smaller groups and quietly boarded the No. 3 Yan, which was hidden in the reeds.

As the gangplank was removed and the anchor was raised, the massive Shang Yan, like a silent whale, slowly glided into the fog-shrouded Haihe River and quickly disappeared from sight.

As Yan Ying disappeared, Lu Cheng's eyes, which had always been gentle and refined, gradually turned cold.

Deep within his pupils, a glimmer of golden light quietly flowed.

【Sharp Eyes】

Despite the dense fog that made it impossible to see one's own hand in front of one's face, Lu Chengshi could see clearly.

He turned around and looked into the depths of the dock at a vast, long-abandoned, empty secret warehouse.

"Eighth Master, I'm sorry to have troubled you to make this trip in person. What follows is a private matter between me and the Huo family," Lu Cheng said calmly.

Master Yuan stroked the stubble on his chin and sighed.

"Master Lu, the Huo family is the real dragon king of Tianjin."

"Their family has a tradition of the Lost Track Fist and Bajiquan, and countless masters have emerged from them over the past hundred years. You are going to meet them alone tonight—you must be very careful."

""

"It's alright. Since he's the Dragon King, we should at least test his strength."

Lu Cheng flicked his sleeves and strode toward the secret warehouse.

"Tap, tap, tap."

The black cloth shoes with their layered soles made even footsteps on the wet cement floor.

The warehouse's main gate was not locked, but only slightly ajar.

Lu Cheng extended two fingers and gently pushed.

"Squeak"

The harsh sound of metal scraping echoed through the empty warehouse.

The warehouse was extremely large, but there were no electric lights; only a few thick pine torches were lit on the surrounding walls.

The flickering firelight illuminated the large open space in the center of the warehouse, casting it in alternating light and shadow.

The air was filled with the smell of aged wood, tung oil, and a chilling odor—the smell of blood.

As soon as Lu Cheng stepped into the warehouse, his spiritual senses, as if a string had been plucked, began to buzz.

He didn't continue walking forward, but stopped at the doorway, snapped the folding fan in his hand shut with a "snap" and slung it behind his back.

[Sharp Eyes] scanned the dark, eerie second-floor corridor and the shadows of piled-up wooden crates around the warehouse.

"What a grand display."

Lu Cheng felt a slight tremor in his heart, but his face remained calm and composed.

In his vision, this seemingly empty warehouse was actually hiding no less than ten extremely terrifying auras in its dark corners.

These auras were different from those of the Japanese ninjas or Axe Gang thugs he had killed before. They did not deliberately release their killing intent, but rather perfectly "embraced" their entire body's qi, blood, and strength together.

Breathing was barely perceptible, and the heartbeat was as slow as a tortoise's.

If you don't pay close attention, you won't even realize that someone is hiding there.

Not a feather can be added, not a fly can land. Qi and blood are like lead and mercury, their flow controlled by the mind.

'

Lu Cheng's eyes gleamed with golden light.

"A full twelve—Grandmasters of Internal Energy Transformation!"

Even someone as composed as Lu Cheng couldn't help but gasp inwardly at this moment.

Grandmaster of Internal Energy!

In Beiping, masters like Liu Wenhua and Shang Yunxiang, who possessed the "Hua Jin" (a type of martial arts skill), were the founding fathers of their respective schools and the pillars of all martial arts institutions. They were extremely rare, even if you put them all together in the entire city of Beijing.

But the Huo family of Tianjin had secretly ambushed twelve experts at the Transformation Realm in this warehouse.

Moreover, although these old monsters' blood and energy have declined somewhat, their pure martial arts essence, honed by the years, is like aged wine, becoming more and more mellow.

"Is this the foundation of Tianjin's premier martial arts family?"

"They usually keep a low profile, but once they reveal their true strength, it's enough to terrify any warlord or foreigner. No wonder the Japanese ran rampant in this concession, yet never dared to lay a fatal hand on the Huo family's core industries."

Lu Cheng understood perfectly.

These twelve experts, all at the Transformation Realm, were clearly elders and members of the Huo family with deep roots in the clan.

They were hiding in the shadows, not to launch an attack, but to provide cover and observe the ceremony.

"Slap, slap, slap."

A burst of clear, crisp clapping came from the center of the warehouse.

On that open space, a fine Western-style genuine leather sofa had been placed there at some point.

A young man dressed in an exquisitely tailored Savile Row bespoke suit was sitting on a sofa.

He looked to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a stylish slicked-back hairstyle, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and...

The Oxford shoes were polished to a shine.

This outfit, if worn in a restaurant like Qi Shi Lin, would definitely make him look like a dashing young master from a wealthy family.

The current leader of the Huo family, and also the top genius on this year's "Hidden Dragon List"—Huo Zhenxiao.

"Master Lu, I have long admired your name. Meeting you today, I can see that your reputation is well-deserved."

Huo Zhenxiao stood up, but instead of walking with an arrogant and domineering gait, he took a very deliberate and unassuming step.

Seemingly casual, each step subtly conforms to the principles of the Eight Trigrams and Nine Palaces, with the soles of the feet barely touching the ground, as if the whole person is floating in the air.

The stealth step!

He walked to a spot five steps away from Lu Cheng and stopped.

There was no handshake with a Western touch, nor any of the small talk common in business.

Instead, stand with your feet together, clasp your hands together, left hand as palm and right hand as fist, fists facing inward and palms facing outward.

This is an extremely ancient and solemn ceremony for junior martial arts practitioners!

"Huo Zhenxiao, the eighth-generation descendant of the Huo family, pays respects to Master Lu."

Huo Zhenxiao's voice was gentle and refined, but his eyes, peering through his gold-rimmed glasses, burned with an almost fanatical flame.

That kind of burning passion only comes when a martial arts fanatic sees the pinnacle of martial arts, when he sees a guiding light.

Lu Cheng looked at him, and without being presumptuous, returned the greeting with a half-bowing gesture.

"Young Master Huo, you're too kind."

"Tonight, the Huo family dispatched thirty merchant ships to cover the safe retreat of my Qingyun troupe. I, Lu, will remember this immense favor."

Lu Cheng's gaze passed over Huo Zhenxiao and looked into the deep darkness of the second floor. His voice was clear and resounding.

"Please also thank the patriarch of the Huo family and all the elders of the Huo family who have been supporting me in the shadows."

This statement came out.

A commotion could be clearly heard coming from the darkness on the second floor of the warehouse.

The Huo family elders, who were hiding in the shadows, were all filled with shock and disbelief.

"He actually took advantage of our hiding place?"

"Not only did he observe them, but he also knew their numbers and cultivation levels perfectly—just how advanced is this young man's perception?"

In the very center of the second floor, an old man wearing a dark blue robe and leaning on a dragon-headed cane was sitting in a grand chair.

This old man was none other than Huo Qingshan, the current patriarch of the Huo family.

His cloudy eyes stared intently at Lu Cheng on the first floor through the darkness, his lips trembling slightly as he sighed.

"Sincerity can lead to foresight. This kid—he has indeed reached that legendary realm. The Japanese didn't lose unjustly, not unjustly at all."

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