Republic of China: From Street Performer to War God in a Chaotic Era

Lu Guan closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his mind. The scene before him sent a chill down his spine.

The fog around the stage of creation grew extremely thick, almost swallowing up the scene on the stage.

The old master from Cangzhou who had taught him martial arts in his dream now appeared as an illusion.

"The decline in the spiritual power of shadow puppetry has affected the transmission of energy in dreams..."

At this rate, he won't even be able to master those three killer moves!

"We can't keep learning in this step-by-step way."

He stared at the blurry figure on the stage, his mind racing.

From the moment he acquired the Creation Stage until now, the "transmission of skills" between him and the old master from Cangzhou has always been one-sided. The master performs, and he watches, just like an audience member sitting below the stage, never uttering a single word.

Is this phantom merely a remnant of fist intent, or does it truly retain some semblance of consciousness?

Lu Guan didn't know.

But right now, his spirituality is fading more and more, and the fog is almost swallowing the stage completely. How can he have the time to slowly probe?

bet.

I'm betting that this old master isn't just a rigid puppeteer; I'm betting that deep down he still has a breath of life left that can respond to people.

If you lose the bet, at worst nothing will change; you can continue learning until your spirituality dissipates.

If I win the bet...

On the stage, the blurry figure of the old master slowly raised his hand, preparing to practice a simple "Welcoming the Sun Palm" move.

Lu Guan suddenly stepped forward and shouted.

"Master, we're running out of time."

The old master's illusory figure paused slightly, and his empty eyes seemed to look over.

"I don't have time to slowly refine the entire set of boxing moves. Even three moves would be too much for me."

Lu Guan's eyes were sharp and keen.

"In chaotic times, people fight for their lives; there's no room for fancy tricks."

"I only need the most ruthless killing move, to defeat the enemy in one strike and draw blood in one move."

"Master, please teach me just one move... Tiger Climbs the Mountain!"

A brief silence fell over the stage.

A moment later, the old master's illusory face paused slightly, then a haughty smile appeared on his face.

"Good lad, ruthless enough, just my type!"

The old master's voice was no longer as mechanical as before.

"Since you desire it, then I will brand this move, which I have mastered all my life, into your very soul."

Before he finished speaking, the old master's phantom suddenly contracted, compressing all the spirituality and energy that was about to dissipate into his right fist.

"Watch closely."

"Eight Extremes, a fierce tiger climbs the mountain!"

The old master stomped on the stage, causing the entire stage to shake violently.

This step was like a white-browed tiger with piercing eyes, driven to the brink of despair, opening its blood-red maw and pouncing fiercely upwards with an overwhelming will to die.

Relax your shoulders, drop your elbows, twist your waist, and exhale forcefully!

There are no superfluous movements, only the extreme violence of instantly detonating the body's vital energy in a fraction of a second.

"boom!"

The old master unleashed a punch, creating a visible vacuum passage through the mist in front of him. Then, the master's figure exploded into countless points of light, like fireworks that had burned out, pouring into Lu Guan's brow.

"Ugh..."

In reality, Lu Guan, lying on the wooden bed, suddenly opened his eyes.

The throbbing pain felt like it was going to burst his head.

That was no longer an ordinary memory, but all the muscle memory, skeletal power, and even mental will contained in this invincible move, which was brutally stuffed into his body!

Lu Guan rolled out of bed without even putting on his shoes.

In my mind, the prompting of the stage of creation echoed.

[By forcibly extracting the true meaning, the analytical accuracy of Bajiquan (Eight Extremes Bright Strength) has increased dramatically!]

[Current True Transmission: Bajiquan Mingjin (90%)]

[Special Status: The host abandons the entire punching routine and unnecessary killing moves, focusing all resolution on a single killing move.]

[The proficiency level of the single-target killing move "Tiger Climbing the Mountain" has been raised to: Pinnacle!]

Lu Guan gasped for breath, slowly closed his eyes, and could only recall the trajectory of that punch.

Too much to chew.

In Tianjin, a city teeming with evil spirits, he doesn't need to perform a set of Bajiquan moves beautifully, nor does he need to know many techniques.

He only needs to master this one move.

One trick is all you need to succeed!

"call……"

Lu Guan suddenly assumed a fighting stance in the darkness, practicing only this move, "Tiger Climbing the Mountain."

Once, ten times, a hundred times!

Throughout the rest of the night, the only sound in the dilapidated backstage area of ​​the Fuju troupe was the cracking of bones.

With each punch, a sonic boom echoed through the air. That terrifying fist intent finally burst forth from his body, as if he were a giant, man-eating worm.

The essence of the fist has finally been mastered.

……

For several days in a row, the sky over Tianjin was overcast and threatening rain, with lead-gray clouds hanging low over the low-rise Western-style houses and dilapidated bungalows in the southern part of the city.

The wind carried shards of ice that stung people's faces.

In the lobby on the first floor of Juyinglou, the charcoal fire was still burning bright red, and the place was bustling with noise.

This area is frequented by apprentices and boxers from martial arts schools in Nanshi, a melting pot of all sorts of people.

In his usual spot by the window, a tall stack of empty bowls had been piled up in front of Lu Guan.

He was grabbing a piece of pork shoulder with bone and fat, about the size of a large bowl, and tearing it into it with big bites.

It wasn't seasoned with any fancy condiments, just boiled in plain water and dipped in coarse salt. One bite, and your mouth is full of oil; the way you eat it is just like a ravenous tiger.

Manager Zhao stood behind the counter, fiddling with the abacus beads in his hand, while subtly observing this side of the scene out of the corner of his eye.

These past few days, the young leader of the Fuju class has been arriving on time every day, and his appetite has become more and more astonishing each day.

What alarmed Manager Zhao even more was that the young man's aura had changed.

If a few days ago, Lu Guan was like a newly sharpened iron knife, sharp but thin.

Today, as he sits here, he resembles a cast iron furnace suppressing a fire.

Although his cotton-padded coat was faded from washing, his back was ramrod straight. His breathing carried a faint sound of wind and thunder, and his skin and flesh were as firm as solid bricks.

"His overall strength has reached its peak; he's about to enter the realm of Ming Jin." Manager Zhao secretly gasped.

Having spent half his life navigating the martial arts world of Tianjin, Manager Zhao has encountered many geniuses.

But it's unheard of for someone like Lu Guan to have his qi and blood pushed to this state simply by eating expensive pork, without any martial arts school or medicinal supplements.

What's more, this kid also has the ruthless skill to cripple a gangster in the street.

Manager Zhao was quick-witted; in the Nanshi area, running a restaurant was all about making money through personal connections.

If we make a good connection today, who knows, one day this might become a powerful and influential figure.

Thinking of this, Manager Zhao put down his abacus, personally carried a plate of freshly cooked braised pig tongue, and walked over with a smile.

"Brother Lu, come on, have another dish. It's freshly braised, cooked to perfection."

Lu Guan stopped what he was doing, wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked calmly at Manager Zhao without touching the plate of pig tongue.

"Manager Zhao, I paid for my meal yesterday, but I haven't paid for it today."

"Hey, brother, what are you saying?"

Manager Zhao sat down opposite him and lowered his voice.

"I, Lao Zhao, am a businessman, but I respect men with real skills even more. Young man, you are young, but you have already honed your strength to the bone. In the future, you will surely have a place in the martial arts world of Nanshi."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the leftover food on the table.

"But my brother, there's a crude saying in the martial arts world: 'Eating meat is not as good as drinking soup, and drinking soup is not as good as taking medicine.' You're at a critical juncture in breaking through your cultivation level right now. Just relying on boiled pork in plain water might fill your stomach, but it won't solidify your foundation."