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

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Chen Huaijin returned.

His long robe was stained with dark red blood, his face was tired, and his eyes were sunken. As soon as he entered the room, he sat down in the armchair and gulped down half a pot of cold tea before he could recover.

"Someone come here."

The butler hurried forward.

"Everyone who comes with me tonight will receive a reward of ten silver dollars," Chen Huaijin said in a hoarse voice. "If anyone dies, each family will receive a compensation of one hundred dollars, to be paid from the accounting office. If anyone is injured, all medical expenses will be covered, plus an additional twenty dollars."

The butler noted everything down and went to carry it out.

Chen Huaijin then confessed to several other matters, all concerning the details of suppressing information, bribing officials, and covering up the truth. If word got out that the mountain demon had stormed into the Xu family and slaughtered the entire household, Sanhai County would be in an uproar.

There were seven or eight people standing in the council chamber: the accountant, the head of the guards, and the manager of the Chen family shop. Chen Huaijin gave instructions one by one, his manner clear and his tone leaving no room for argument.

Chen Hongwu stood outside the hall and listened for a while before stepping inside.

"Father."

Chen Huaijin glanced at him, her gaze indifferent.

He had long since given up hope on his eldest son. He was neither good at academics nor martial arts, and at eighteen years old, he spent his days hanging out in brothels and taverns, spending money like water. Apart from his fairly decent-looking face, there was not a single redeeming quality about him.

"Find a place to sit," Chen Huaijin said, then turned back to continue talking to the accountant.

Chen Hongwu didn't mind, moved a chair, and sat down against the wall.

He observed everyone in the hall.

Chen Huaijin was in his early forties, with a square face, thick eyebrows, and upright posture. He habitually stroked his short beard when he spoke. Although he had been in business for many years, he still retained the scholarly air of a former Qing Dynasty scholar.

But the fact that he was able to lead his men to the Xu family overnight and escape unscathed shows that this cheap father is definitely not a weak scholar who can't even kill a chicken.

The meeting lasted for about half an hour.

After everyone left, only the father and son remained in the hall.

Chen Hongwu asked, "Father, what exactly was that monster last night?"

Chen Huaijin picked up his teacup, blew away the foam, took a sip, and said unhurriedly, "I don't know. It might be a mandrill that ran out of some wild forest. Ancient books record that mandrills resemble humans, have long arms and black hair, are incredibly strong, and eat human brains."

"Then why did it attack the Chen family and then the Xu family?"

"What reason can you have with beasts?" Chen Huaijin put down his teacup, glanced at Chen Hongwu, and said, "Don't meddle in things that aren't your business."

Chen Hongwu did not respond.

Chen Huaijin sighed, his tone softening, "Things haven't been peaceful lately. Although that mountain demon escaped injured, it might come back at any time. It holds a grudge against our Chen family."

"What about the Xu family?" Chen Hongwu asked. "How are they doing?"

Chen Huaijin remained silent for a moment.

"By the time we got there, it was too late." His voice was low. "The entire Xu family... except for the youngest daughter who was hiding and the eldest daughter who was studying abroad, were all killed by that beast."

Chen Hongwu remained silent.

Xu Mingyuan treated him like his own son, and Xu Wanqing was his nominal fiancée. Although the original owner of this body didn't have a deep relationship with the Xu family, Chen Hongwu, who had merged with the memories, still felt a strange and indescribable feeling.

"I understand," he said.

Then he spoke again: "Father, I want to learn martial arts."

Chen Huaijin was slightly taken aback.

"Practicing martial arts?" He looked Chen Hongwu up and down. "You're eighteen this year, and your body is severely depleted. Don't you think it's too late to start practicing martial arts now?"

"It's better than not practicing at all."

"What's the use of learning martial arts?" Chen Huaijin frowned. "Even if you practice your whole life, can you withstand firearms?"

Chen Hongwu did not refute.

Last night, those burly men used Mauser rifles to fire in unison, barely managing to force the mandrill back. In his previous life, he had cultivated internal strength, his fists were as sharp as needles, and when they hit a person, they would either die or be seriously injured, but when faced with bullets, he was still made of flesh and blood.

In the face of guns and cannons, martial arts indeed seem powerless.

It seems the same applies to this world.

"I just want to practice, it's good for my health," Chen Hongwu said.

Chen Huaijin thought for a moment.

This kid was probably terrified by that monster last night and wants to learn some skills to protect himself. Practicing martial arts is better than going out and fooling around; at least he can stay home obediently.

"Okay." Chen Huaijin nodded. "I'll have someone invite some of the best martial arts schools in Sanhai County. Pick one you like and practice at home."

"Thank you, Father."

Chen Hongwu rose to take his leave.

---

Two hours later.

The martial arts training hall in the backyard of the Chen family.

The weapons racks were polished to a shine, and the ground was covered with thick stone slabs.

Chen Hongwu stood in the center of the hall, looking at the five people in front of him.

The five best martial arts schools in Sanhai County each sent a martial arts instructor. They all wanted to get on the good side of the Chen family; being chosen as an instructor by the eldest son of the richest family would be a dream job.

"My name is Cai Rong, and I am a disciple of the Hong Sheng Kung Fu lineage." The first to speak was a strong, muscular man in his forties with arms that reached past his knees and calluses on his hands.

"My name is Lin Deshun, and I practice Wing Chun. I am a disciple of Mr. Liang Bik." The second man, a tall, thin man in his early thirties, spoke slowly and deliberately.

"I am He Yongfu, a practitioner of Hung Kuen, from the lineage of the three founders of Iron Bridge." The third was a short, stocky man with a neck as thick as a bucket, clearly trained through hard training.

"My name is Su Zhihao, I practice the White Eyebrow Fist, and I am a disciple of Master Zhang Liquan." The fourth person was a fair-skinned young man, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with sharp eyes.

"My name is Liang Jinkun, a practitioner of Xiajiaquan, and I am a disciple of Grandmaster Wang Yinlin." The fifth one was a bit older, around fifty years old, with a white beard and a calm demeanor.

The five people took turns introducing themselves, some announcing the names of their ancestors, others announcing themselves as contemporary masters, as if afraid that Chen Hongwu wouldn't recognize their worth.

Chen Hongwu listened and nodded inwardly.

Choy Li Fut, Wing Chun, Hung Kuen, Pak Mei, and Chia Ka are all local Guangdong styles of boxing. Unlike Xingyi, Bagua, and Tai Chi, they are not well-known, but those who have established their own schools have real skills.

His previous life's learning was quite diverse, but his foundation was Xingyi Quan, which can be considered part of the lineage of the martial arts saint Sun Lutang.

"Masters, I'd like to ask you a question first," Chen Hongwu began.

"Please speak, young master," Cai Rong said, clasping his hands in a fist salute.

"Are there still many people practicing martial arts these days?"

The five men exchanged glances, and Lin Deshun sighed, "Not many left. Since the introduction of foreign guns and cannons, fewer and fewer people practice martial arts each year. Young people think that practicing martial arts is useless, and it's better to join the army and carry a gun."

"But the masters are still around," He Yongfu continued. "Sun Lutang, Shang Yunxiang, and Han Muxia in the north, and Huang Feihong and Lin Shirong in the south—they are all truly skilled. Especially Mr. Sun Lutang, known as the Tiger-Headed Young Guardian, the number one martial artist in the world. His martial arts are superb, and he can still fight even in his seventies."

Chen Hongwu was startled.

Sun Lutang, Shang Yunxiang, and Han Muxia.

Those were true masters in the history of martial arts during the Republic of China era. Each of them possessed genuine skills and was a master who had honed traditional Chinese martial arts to a high level.

This Republic of China era was exactly the same as the Republic of China era in his understanding of martial arts.

The only difference was the mandrill from last night.

That monster, capable of withstanding bullets, possessing immense strength, and killing anyone it sees, should not exist in this world.

"Which subject would you like to learn, young master?" Liang Jinkun asked, stroking his beard.

Chen Hongwu glanced at the five people.

He couldn't possibly learn from them; the Xingyi Quan in his mind was no weaker than these minor southern martial arts styles. What he needed to do now wasn't to learn new styles, but to restore his body and pick up what he had practiced in his previous life.

But he needed a reason to stay in the Chen family to practice martial arts, and he also needed someone to guide him in understanding the martial arts of this world.

"All five masters stayed," Chen Hongwu said. "They taught me the basics first: stance training, standing meditation, and power generation. After three months, I decided which master to take as my own."

The five men clasped their hands in unison: "We will follow the young master's instructions."

Chen Huaijin stood outside the moon gate in the backyard, glanced at the martial arts hall in the distance, shook his head, and turned to leave.

The eldest son wants to practice martial arts; let him be.

It's better than going to a brothel.