A Life of Attributes Starting as a Nobleman in the Republic of China Era

Chen Shi sat cross-legged in the center of the arena, looking at Chen Che with increasingly furrowed brows, muttering to himself, "How could Master have created a martial art for you?"

Sun Congzhou had told Chen Che that Ren Zhan was known as the "Weapon Master" at the Central Martial Arts Academy. The name sounded like someone who was proficient in all eighteen weapons.

However, since Ren Zhan only spent two hours creating a set of [Nameless Staff Technique] for him, it didn't seem like a big deal.

Chen Che was completely confused and tentatively asked, "What does Senior Brother mean?"

Chen Shi, hands on his knees, stared at Chen Che and said, word by word, "Creating your own martial arts is extremely mentally taxing. My grandmaster is seventy-two this year, and after more than sixty years of practicing martial arts, he has only created three sets. You're a newcomer, so why does my master favor you so much?"

He pondered for a moment, then stood up as if he had made up his mind, and said to Chen Che, "Come on, let's have a spar."

Chen Che's [Nameless Staff Technique] had just achieved "slight mastery," and he was actually looking for an opponent to test his skills. However, Chen Shi was the senior disciple of the Shanghai branch, and he couldn't be too rude, so he waved his hands repeatedly and said, "No, no, no, my skills are not up to your standards, senior disciple."

Chen Shi stepped forward and forcefully pulled him up: "It's harmless for fellow disciples to spar. Don't be shy, show me the kung fu your master created for you."

Chen Che stood up, intending to decline, but Chen Shi said, "Master has already created a set of [Martial Stance] and a set of [Thousand Mountains and Evening Snow Sword]. I've been under Master's tutelage for six years, and the third set should have been created for me. What kind of incredible luck did you get?"

Chen Che felt both annoyed and amused. He thought that if he refused again, he would be in an even more difficult situation. So he bowed and clasped his hands, saying, "Then I will respectfully accept your offer."

After saying that, he held a tactical baton in each hand, stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, and assumed a fighting stance with one in front of the other.

Chen Shi, with his feet shoulder-width apart, hopped rhythmically back and forth, shouting, "I'm here!"

The three words, like a thunderclap, abruptly shattered the silence of the martial arts hall.

Chen Shi, who was about two zhang away from Chen Che, suddenly shot towards Chen Che like an arrow released from a bow without warning, leaving a blurry afterimage.

He pushed off the ground with his back foot, twisting his body into an S-shape, and thrust his front leg, accompanied by a shrill whistling sound as it tore through the air, straight toward Chen Che's center.

Chen Shi's advance was too swift; Chen Che's pupils contracted, and he dared not be careless.

With no way to avoid it, he had no choice but to cross his tactical baton in front of his chest and take the brunt of Chen Shi's kick.

With a clang, metal clashed. Chen Che struggled with his tactical baton, which bent into an arc before snapping back with a "hum." He felt a tremendous force strike him, and he couldn't break free even after taking several steps back. He had to do two somersaults to regain his footing.

Chen Shi struck successfully and saw Chen Che retreat more than ten steps. A look of surprise appeared on his face, but it vanished in an instant. He pressed his advantage relentlessly, his figure following like a shadow, his footwork unpredictable and ever-changing, closing in again in a flash.

With his fists clenched, he moved them up and down, his fists flying like a storm, enveloping Chen Che's entire body.

The air was filled with sharp, hissing sounds that were dazzling to the eye.

By now, Chen Che had gained some practical experience. He lowered his stance and mounted his horse. His arms spun like windmills, unleashing a dozen or so blows in quick succession, the club flashing and whistling through the air as it met Chen Shi's torrential downpour of fists.

Chen Che's tactical baton collided violently with Chen Shi's fist in mid-air, producing a series of clanging sounds similar to the clash of metal. Chen Che felt as if his tactical baton was striking not flesh and blood, but heavy steel.

Chen Che was shocked. Chen Shi's hand skills had reached the point where his fists were like iron and his bones like steel!

However, he had no time to think. Chen Shi's attacks came wave after wave, giving him no chance to catch his breath. Chen Che gritted his teeth and used the tactical stick in his hand to protect his entire "sphere" using the [Nameless Stick Technique] taught by Ren Zhan.

Although it was still a bit rough around the edges, it gradually developed a sense of structure.

Chen Che gritted his teeth and persevered. Amidst the flashing of the staff, he suddenly noticed a subtle change. Whenever Chen Shi's fist was about to strike a vital point, his wrist would involuntarily twist, the tip of the staff precisely hitting Chen Shi's knuckles. This wasn't intentional; it was more like an instinctive bodily reaction.

"Huh?" Chen Shi noticed it too. He let out a soft exclamation and slowed his attack slightly.

Seizing the momentary opening, Chen Che stepped forward half a step with his left foot, his hands gripping the staff like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, aiming straight for Chen Shi's throat. He had practiced this move, "Staff Three," from the [Nameless Staff Technique], no less than a thousand times, and now he executed it with a sense of fluidity and ease.

A hint of admiration flashed in Chen Shi's eyes. As he dodged to the side, his right hand shot out like an eagle's claw, accompanied by a whistling wind, his five fingers gripping Chen Che's baton. Chen Che felt a powerful force, and the tactical baton almost slipped from his grasp. He quickly lowered his shoulders and elbows, and with a flick of his wrist, the baton slipped from Chen Shi's fingers and instead struck towards Chen Shi's ribs.

"Good!" Chen Shi shouted, neither dodging nor avoiding, and used his left hand to strike the stick head-on.

With another muffled "bang," Chen Che was knocked back five steps, stick and all.

Chen Shi did not pursue, but instead stopped and stood still.

Chen Che, panting heavily, clasped his hands and said, "Thank you for showing mercy, Senior Brother."

Chen Shi's face showed a complex expression: "Are you going easy on me? Or do you really only have the 'blood transfusion' technique?"

During his exchange with Chen Shi, Chen Che spent 90% of the time on the defensive. He had exerted all his strength to barely protect himself.

Chen Che repeatedly said, "No, no, no, I have already done my best."

Chen Shi remained silent, only lowering his head slightly. When he raised his face again, his eyes were filled with murderous intent.

Chen Che and Chen Shi's eyes met, and without warning, a chill ran down their spines, and the air between them seemed to freeze.

Chen Shi remained completely still, but in Chen Che's perception, Chen Shi's consciousness felt like a huge fishing net, covered with sharp hooks, enveloping him.

An invisible barrier seemed to stand in front of Chen Shi, like the gravity of a thousand mountains suddenly finding a place to pour down, pressing down on Chen Che irresistibly.

Chen Che felt as if every pore on his body was screaming warnings, yet his limbs seemed to be bound, unable to move an inch.

That aura was elusive, yet far more chilling and inescapable than any weapon.

This feeling is exactly the same as Wang Jian's "pressure".

Chen San seemed to have noticed something as well, but this time he only swayed slightly and did not make any move.

"Shi'er," Ren Zhan's voice rang out with a smile, "He's not lying to you, so stop bullying him."

Upon hearing this, Chen Shi glanced at Ren Zhan, then quickly lowered his head and whispered, "Master, no... I just wanted to test whether he could use 'intention'."