Chinese martial arts: From being shot and killed by the armed police during a mountain search to bec

Chen Hongwu rolled up the newspaper and tucked it into his pocket, then looked down at the newsboy: "You know how to get to Yuhua Lane?"

The newsboy dusted himself off, rubbed his collar where the foreigner had grabbed it, and grinned: "I know! I've been to Foshan countless times, I know it like the back of my hand."

"Take me there." Chen Hongwu tossed him a copper coin.

"Alright!" The newsboy pocketed the coins and walked briskly ahead, glancing back at Chen Hongwu as he went. "Brother, you're from out of town, aren't you? That kick you just gave me was really powerful. That foreigner must have weighed at least 170 or 180 pounds, and you sent him flying with one kick. Have you ever practiced martial arts?"

"I've practiced a little."

"A little bit?" The newsboy chuckled. "Brother, don't try to fool me. I've been running around the streets of Foshan for three years, and I've seen a lot of martial arts masters coming and going from martial arts schools. The energy you have is similar to that of those school owners. I've seen Hung Kuen, Choy Li Fut, and Wing Chun, but you're a little different from them."

Chen Hongwu did not respond.

The newsboy didn't mind and continued talking to himself the whole way. He was very talkative, talking about the old martial arts schools in Foshan, the newly arrived Jingwu Association, the teahouse at the end of the street, Baolin Temple outside the city, Uncle Wu who sold wontons, and the Hongmen Hall at the dock. Chen Hongwu listened, occasionally asking a question or two, and silently making notes in his mind.

Foshan's political landscape is far more complex than that of Sanhai County. It is a hometown of martial arts, with numerous martial arts schools, deeply entrenched clan influence, and various factions including foreign firm compradors, dock gangs, and local gentry, each with their own territory.

It won't be easy for the Chen family to settle down here.

After turning two corners, the newsboy stopped in front of a black lacquered wooden door and pointed to two osmanthus trees by the door: "We're here."

Chen Hongwu looked up. There was no plaque above the door yet, but the door itself was new, the paint smell still lingering. Two guards were carrying chests inside. They looked up and saw Chen Hongwu, paused for a moment, then exclaimed with delight, "Young Master!"

In the courtyard, Chen Hongwen was directing his servants to set up their belongings.

Hearing the noise at the door, he turned around, his gaze lingered on Chen Hongwu for a moment, and then he quickly walked over: "Brother! I'm glad you're alright."

Chen Hongwu nodded, about to speak, when the curtain to the main hall was suddenly flung open. Chen Hongxiu rushed out like a gust of wind, followed by Chen Huaijin.

Chen Hongxiu grabbed Chen Hongwu's arm, looked up at him, her eyes reddening: "Big brother! You're finally back!"

Chen Huaijin stood on the steps, looking at Chen Hongwu, without saying a word.

His lips moved, but in the end he just nodded, his voice hoarse: "Let's talk inside."

Chen Hongwu followed the others into the main hall. The furnishings in the hall were fairly tidy, but it was clear that they had been arranged hastily.

The tables and chairs were newly bought, the calligraphy and paintings on the wall hadn't been hung up properly yet, and several boxes were piled up in the corner, not yet unpacked.

A man in his forties, wearing a gray cloth long gown and with a fair complexion, was sitting in the living room. He was the same middle-aged man from the bookstore in Sanhai County.

"Young Master Chen." The middle-aged man stood up and cupped his hands in greeting.

Chen Huaijin introduced him from the side: "This is Mr. Liang, a member of the Guangdong Army."

The middle-aged man smiled and said, "Young Master Chen is indeed young and impetuous. He dared to kill Mo Rongxin's son. I admire his courage."

Chen Hongwu didn't speak, he just glanced at him.

The middle-aged man didn't mind and turned to Chen Huaijin: "Brother Chen, I've come today to convey the message from above. We can help you deal with Mo Rongxin; at least we can prevent him from sending a large force to Foshan to wipe you out."

But since his son died at your hands, we can't guarantee what crazy things he might do.

He paused for a moment: "The Guangdong Army does not currently intend to engage in a full-scale war with Mo Rongxin. They have already done their utmost to achieve this."

Chen Huaijin thanked him repeatedly and personally escorted the middle-aged man to the door.

Chen Hongwu stood in the hall, found a seat, and listened as the middle-aged man's footsteps faded into the distance.

When Chen Huaijin returned, his expression darkened.

He walked to the table, pushed the teacup aside, and took out a heavy bundle from his bosom. He untied the rope, revealing silver dollars, banknotes, gold bars, and a stack of promissory notes from Fukang Bank, all jingling.

"Hongwu, come here."

Chen Hongwu walked over.

Chen Huaijin pushed the bundle in front of him: "This contains two-thirds of the Chen family's current assets. Take it and leave Guangdong. No matter how far Mo Laohu's reach is, it can't reach beyond Guangdong's borders."

Chen Hongwu looked at the bundle but did not take it.

"Father, I'm not leaving."

Chen Huaijin frowned: "You—"

"When soldiers come, we'll block them; when water comes, we'll dam it." Chen Hongwu's voice was calm. "Mo Laohu and I will have to fight sooner or later."

"How can you fight him alone? He has an army!"

"He wouldn't dare send troops to Foshan," Chen Hongwu said. "The Guangdong army has already blocked his main force. The most he can send are assassins. I can handle a few assassins."

During the Republic of China era, the assassin world was full of talented individuals, most of whom possessed both martial arts skills and rigorous firearms training, making them capable of killing anyone who stood in their way.

The most famous among them are Du Xinwu, the great swordsman of the North and South; Wang Yaqiao, the number one assassin of the Republic of China; and Liu Yunqiao, the number one assassin of the day.

Chen Hongwu certainly couldn't handle these people, but Mo Laohu didn't have the ability to get them to cooperate either.

He paused. "Besides," he continued, "if I leave, will he let you go?"

Chen Huaijin fell silent.

Chen Hongwu continued, "If he can't kill me, he'll take it out on you. If I leave, who will protect the Chen family?"

As darkness fell outside the window, the lights in the Chen family courtyard gradually came on, casting a dim, yellowish shadow.

-

Guangzhou, the Governor's Mansion.

The telegram was slammed onto the table, the ink still wet. Mo Rongxin read it, his face flushed red, and he grabbed the pen holder from the table and smashed it against the wall. The pen holder shattered, and the brushes scattered all over the floor.

"A threat! This is a blatant threat!" His voice was sharp and hoarse. "What is Chen Jiongming? A traitorous general, a rebel, dares to make me back down?! Does he really think I, Mo Rongxin, am afraid of him?"

The officers below stood with their hands at their sides, none of them daring to speak.

Mo Rongxin took a few breaths, then suddenly turned his head: "Send a telegram to Marshal Lu! Tell him that these Cantonese have gone too far, saying they want to completely drive our Guangxi clique out of Guangdong and even launch a counterattack on Guangxi! Chen Jiongming doesn't take the Marshal seriously at all!"

"Yes, sir!" the officer replied.

"What about the Chen family?" Mo Rongxin's voice turned stern. "Give me a plan! If we don't make an example of them today, people will think my title of 'Tiger Mo' is just for show!"

An aide stepped forward: "Commander, the Guangdong army has stopped our troops, but they can't stop the江湖人 (jianghu people, people of the martial arts world). Why don't we post a reward notice and hire assassins to kill Chen Hongwu in Foshan? Isn't he a good fighter? But even if he is, can he outfight bullets?"

Mo Rongxin narrowed his eyes, remained silent for a few moments, and slowly nodded: "Increase the reward to ten thousand silver dollars! I want to see him alive or dead."

"The telegram should also include the following sentence: 'The rest of the Chen family members shall not be spared.'"