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

As dusk fell, the Chen family mansion came alive with activity.

Eight red lanterns hung under the eaves, and paper-cuts were pasted on the windows.

Chen Huaijin distributed a holiday allowance to everyone in the household in advance, two silver dollars per person.

The steward received his money and, along with several servants, set up an incense table, offered mooncakes, and arranged pomelo blossoms in the courtyard. The aroma of steamed taro with braised pork and stir-fried snails wafted from the kitchen, while several maids squatted by the well washing pomelo leaves, chatting and laughing.

Chen Hongwu changed into a dark gray long gown, with the cuffs tied tight and a black cloth belt around his waist. When he came out of the courtyard, Chen Huaijin was already waiting outside.

Chen Huaijin wore a dark blue robe with subtle patterns, exuding a dignified and composed air.

Chen Hongwen stayed in the room for half an hour, and when he came out, he was wearing a light blue short robe, the buttons were fastened meticulously, and his back was straight.

Chen Huaijin looked at him and said, "Not bad." Chen Hongwen scratched the back of his head and grinned.

The father and his two sons came out of the main gate and walked side by side down the street.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival in Foshan, wealthy families hang revolving lanterns at their doors, depicting scenes of Chang'e flying to the moon and the Jade Rabbit pounding medicine. When a candle is lit, the lantern shade slowly rotates.

Ordinary families set up small tables at their doorways, placing mooncakes and pomelos on them, and the whole family would sit around them to admire the moon.

Street vendors shouted at the top of their lungs, "Moonlight cake—moonlight cake—", their voices drawn out and echoing through the alley.

Several children ran past the alley entrance carrying paper lanterns. The lanterns were made of bamboo strips and covered with red paper. The candlelight shone through and illuminated a small patch of warm red on the ground.

The child running in front tripped, the lantern flew off, rolled twice on the ground, and crashed into Chen Hongwu's feet, extinguishing the candle.

Chen Hongwu picked up the lantern and handed it over. The child took it, dusted it off, said "thank you," and then chased after him with a smile.

A crowd had gathered in front of the Shiwan pottery stall, which was selling rabbit figurines to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival. The painted clay rabbits rode on the back of a tiger, holding the reins in one hand and a lingzhi mushroom in the other, painted in vibrant colors.

Chen Hongwen was so engrossed in watching that he slowed his pace.

He recalled that last Mid-Autumn Festival, the Chen family was still in Sanhai County.

At that time, lanterns were hung and banquets were held in the mansion, but his mother had just passed away, and there was a heavy silence under the lights of the entire mansion. A year earlier, he remembered that his mother had personally tied red ribbons to every osmanthus tree in the courtyard, saying that the Mid-Autumn Festival should be lively and festive.

Unbeknownst to me, Sanhai County has become a place I can never return to.

He looked away and quickened his pace to catch up.

Qionghua Tower is located in the east of Foshan City, next to the Chamber of Commerce. It has upturned eaves and a very wide facade.

A row of rickshaws and two or three black cars were parked in front of the building. The doorman, with a white towel draped over his shoulder, quickly came to greet the three approaching.

The three men handed over the invitation. The waiter took it, glanced at it, and his smile deepened. He bowed and led the way inside.

Passing through the front hall and pushing open the two carved wooden doors, the Chamber of Commerce's main hall suddenly opens up.

The hall was spacious, with about twenty round tables covered with bright red tablecloths. In the center of each table was a plate of mooncakes, a plate of pomelos, and a pot of tea. Directly in front was a stage, but the performance had not yet started. Several musicians were tuning their erhu, and the occasional notes echoed through the hall.

Quite a few people had already arrived. There were prominent figures from the chamber of commerce dressed in long gowns and mandarin jackets, martial arts instructors from martial arts schools in short, fitted outfits, and fashionable people in Western suits. They stood in small groups, holding teacups and exchanging pleasantries, their voices buzzing.

The moment Chen Hongwu and his two companions entered the hall, it was as if a pebble had been thrown into the water.

"Master Chen is here!"

I don't know who was the first to shout it out.

Several martial arts masters were the first to surround them.

Leading the way was Chen Rumin from the Wing Chun school, Ip Man's senior martial brother. In his early forties, lean and wiry, with a warm smile on his face, he cupped his hands in greeting: "Master Chen, long time no see! I witnessed your kung fu firsthand at the Hung Shing Kung Fu school the other day, and I truly admire you. You must come visit our Wing Chun school sometime!"

Chen Hongwu returned the greeting with clasped hands: "Master Chen, you're too kind."

Three or four more people surged up behind Chen Rumin, chattering and announcing their names. One claimed to be the head of the Cai Li Fo martial arts school, another said he was the instructor of the Baihe martial arts school, and yet another mentioned the name of a certain martial arts school in Xiguan.

Chen Hongwu nodded in acknowledgment and responded to each of them. His attitude was not particularly enthusiastic, but it was polite. He remained as calm as a rock, unmoved by the waves around him.

Chen Huaijin stood behind Chen Hongwu, a polite smile on his face. When people came over to exchange pleasantries, he simply smiled politely, nodded occasionally, and said little.

As Chen Hongwen followed Chen Hongwu, his chest unconsciously puffed out slightly.

He remembers it all too clearly.

In the first few days after the Chen family arrived in Foshan, he and his father visited every wealthy and influential household in the city, but they couldn't even get a cup of hot tea.

Later, the Ye family gave them a shop, and those street thugs came over to collect "tea money," pushing and shoving them while cursing.

The dockworkers stopped unloading halfway through the cargo. When asked why, the foreman rolled his eyes and said, "He's an out-of-towner, what's the rush?"

At that moment, he and Chen Huaijin looked at each other, saying "It's okay" but feeling choked up inside.

What now?

The shop opened, the thugs disappeared, and the laborers volunteered to help them unload the goods. Those who had previously ignored them suddenly changed their tune.

Chen Hongwen glanced at the older brother in front of him.

He knew that all these changes were because his elder brother had killed a Japanese man at the Hong Sheng Mart. His fists were stained with blood, and his reputation, along with that blood, seeped into the soil of Foshan.

What is a chaotic world? A chaotic world is one where swords and spears speak, and fists speak!

Reason is worth less than a piece of waste paper in the face of a gun.

He took a breath and puffed out his chest a little more.

At that moment, a young man stepped out from the crowd.

He was in his early twenties, wearing a navy blue short-sleeved outfit with tight cuffs and a three-finger-wide leather belt around his waist.

With a tall and straight figure, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, he stood there like a polished spear.

He was good-looking, with thick eyebrows, deep-set eyes, and a high nose bridge. His brows exuded an air of arrogance, but this arrogance was suppressed by his smile, which instead revealed a cheerful demeanor.

"Master Chen." The young man walked up to Chen Hongwu, clasped his hands in a salute, and said, "I have long admired your name."

Chen Hongwu glanced at him and nodded slightly: "Who are you?"

"Huang Hansen," the young man said with a smile, adding slowly, "My father is Huang Feihong."

The surroundings became quiet.

When the identity of Huang Feihong's son was revealed, several people in the lobby turned to look at them.

Huang Feihong had two sons, the eldest Huang Hanlin and the second Huang Hansen, who both learned martial arts from their father. Huang Hansen was the most talented, having received Huang Feihong's true teachings in his early twenties and becoming extremely popular among the younger generation.

"I've heard so much about you."

"My father told me in detail about what happened at Hongsheng Hall that day, Master Chen," Huang Hansen said with a smile. "He used both Bajiquan and Xingyiquan kung fu to completely overwhelm Miyagi Nagaharu."

Chen Hongwu didn't respond to that, he just looked at him.

Huang Hansen didn't beat around the bush and said directly, "Today, I would like to take this opportunity to learn a move or two from Master Chen. It's not for any other reason than my father often tells me that the worst thing in practicing boxing is to be narrow-minded and have no vision of the world."

I grew up in Foshan and have sparred with local martial arts masters countless times, but I haven't had much experience with northern boxers. Would Master Chen be available for a match?