The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Thank you for your hard work, Uncle Guang." Zhang Chang'an put on his coat, finished the last sip of wine, and casually took out a banknote and placed it under the fire pot on the table.

"What are you doing? Boss Chen pays everyone, you don't need to pay." Uncle Guang said calmly, sitting by the window smoking.

As Zhang Chang'an put on his gloves, he immediately replied, "Boss Chen only arranged free massages and acupressure for us; I still have to pay for the medicine. Besides... if you'd like, you can consider this as tuition."

"Hoo..." Smoke rose from the window, and Uncle Guang, sitting there, looked at Zhang Chang'an, as if to say, "You want to learn this trick from me?"

Zhang Chang'an replied without hesitation, "You and Brother Zheng can both tell that I started practicing martial arts as a child. However, I have indeed practiced martial arts for quite a long time, but the lineage has always been scattered. Unlike Uncle Guang, your Tiger Crane Fist is a family tradition, right?"

That's right, Zhang Chang'an had been observing the company closely ever since he joined.

Many of these Chinese who carved out a path for themselves in London with their fists did not possess steam weapons, nor did they study the esoteric teachings of Buddhism, but that did not mean that no one was practicing.

At first, he thought Zheng Kui was a martial arts practitioner like himself, but later he found out that Zheng Kui seemed to be just good at fighting, mainly using street fighting techniques.

But the grappling master in the company is really skilled.

It possesses both tiger and crane forms, and at a considerable level.

"Wong Fei-hung is from Foshan Baozhilin. It's not uncommon for martial arts practitioners to be the ones performing grappling techniques," Zhang Chang'an pondered, waiting for Uncle Guang to speak.

"You brat... I saw through you a long time ago, why ask so many useless questions? You just want this, don't you?" Uncle Guang said, quickly putting down his pipe, pulling an old book from the drawer next to him, and tossing it to Zhang Chang'an.

Zhang Chang'an held the tiger claw in his hand and caught it steadily; it was clearly an old martial arts book.

"Your foundation is good. To say that you can't inherit the tradition is really an oversimplification. At least you've followed the general path correctly."

With this foundation, I don't need to teach you personally. You should have already learned most of the hand positions and pressure techniques during each massage session. The rest you can just practice on your own.

As Uncle Guang spoke, he began to puff out smoke again.

That's right, they were constantly testing each other. Zhang Chang'an confirmed his skill level, while Uncle Guang directly used real kung fu massage.

Therefore, Zhang Chang'an had already experienced many of these things when he was breaking bones and pressing muscles.

Now, all that's missing is this complete book to fill in the gaps and connect what I've learned before.

"You've got some talent, I can tell. What I said about 'childhood training' wasn't quite right; your foundation doesn't seem to have been built from a young age. But your comprehension is good, so passing this on to you won't be a waste."

Uncle Guang clearly wasn't going to let him make a pretentious polite refusal, and directly cut him off: "It's been so long, and no one in the company has ever given me money for cigarettes or drinks. Consider it your best effort. Go back and practice hard."

Just be careful not to try to do too much at once. Judging from your physique, you're probably training more than one thing.

Zhang Chang'an casually flipped through the book a few times, then promptly thanked him and left.

He understood what Uncle Guang meant. His abilities were indeed diverse. Street fights were chaotic, and he often had to use various different abilities. Sometimes he would use the "Gongzi Fuhu" technique, sometimes he would use Hung Kuen and a single sword, and occasionally he would even use American Iaijutsu.

However, as things stand, his current state is indeed not problematic in terms of practicality.

"Take it slow. Right now, winning every single one is more important."

As soon as Zhang Chang'an closed the door, Zheng Kui, who seemed to have been waiting at the door for some time, immediately spoke up: "I've had someone inquire about that club. The situation is pretty much confirmed; it is indeed a property of Blood Sand Company."

He was referring, of course, to the business card that Zhang Chang'an had brought back.

Last night, after Zhang Chang'an completely eliminated that mutated Blood Sand Company boss, he carried on the company's traditional spirit and rode his horse into the alley to search for the clothes the boss had left there.

In the end, they only received a few pounds of money, and the only other thing worth noting was the business card.

Zhang Chang'an had already asked Vito last night, so he already knew that the club was related to Blood Sand Company: "What exactly do they do?"

Zheng Kui: "If the intelligence is correct, then it should be a British trap organization."

"What do you mean?" Zhang Chang'an asked, puzzled.

Zheng Kui turned and looked out the window of the corridor: "Just like the group of people downstairs, the boss is very special. He's a British guy who hates immigrants. His name is Jacob Kenway."

The Blood Sands Corporation is so chaotic that there are even people who hate other races. They only cooperate with the other British people in the company, making them a very unique faction within it.

Their main business is underground boxing.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Chang'an immediately understood his meaning: "To arrest other immigrants and beat them?"

Zheng Kui nodded: "Your idea is correct. The Italian is the one who actually manages the money for the porcelain business that was previously in charge."

However, after a long investigation, we only found traces of him from some time ago. Now that I think about it, it is quite possible that he was captured by such an underground organization.

This guy's underground boxing gym specifically targets immigrants of other ethnicities, forcing them to fight, regardless of life or death. They place bets against them.

"Haven't you found the exact location yet?" Zhang Chang'an knew that Zheng Kui usually didn't keep people in suspense about these things, so he immediately guessed the specific situation.

Zheng Kui nodded: "This club has only been around for a short time, and the people they've arrested are undocumented fugitives and homeless people, so they haven't left much information."

However, Kenway has done this kind of thing before, and he's been unusually quiet lately, so it's highly likely he's gone back to his old ways.

As Zheng Kui spoke, he added, "The porcelain business has been short of cash flow recently, so although this deal has been delayed a bit, the final share should be higher. It's just that we still lack some information."

After listening, Zhang Chang'an nodded and said, "I do have other places I can ask. You can wait for my news."

Upon hearing this, Zheng Kui did not question it, but simply nodded: "Let us know as soon as there is any news."

………………

"Ding..." The doorbell of Chamberlain's Arms Workshop rang once again.

Not long after, Zhang Chang'an visited the place again, startling Amin once more.

"Mr. Zhang, is there a problem with the steam exoskeleton robotic arm?" This was the official name Ah Ming used for the item he sold to Zhang Chang'an.

He was still not very good at greeting guests, but he was clearly much more attentive to Zhang Chang'an than to others.

Zhang Chang'an turned his head, took off his slightly damaged leather glove on his left hand, and calmly stated:

"No, not really. It's probably a little damaged, but it's not a big problem. I'm here because I have a big order. So, I need you to make me another robotic arm. The structure can be more complex, and it would be best if you could also modify the original one to make it heavier."

After saying this, Zhang Chang'an confidently stated, "Of course, there's plenty of funding."

Upon hearing this, Amin's eyes lit up, but as a technician, he keenly noticed a problem:

"No problem, I can expedite it. If we have enough funds, the boss won't say anything about delaying other orders. But why did you say you wanted to rewrite it?"

As Zhang Chang'an removed the steam exoskeleton from his left hand, he calmly said, "I have my reasons. Just do your best."

Before his eyes, amidst the text displayed in the family genealogy, lay a complex book of traditional Chinese martial arts, which he was continuously absorbing.

Its name is Hung Family Iron Wire Fist.