Supporting the body in the white blade, wandering in the red dust

Chapter 1013

Bai Lang kept a low profile, blending into the crowd, and carefully studied the Vermilion Bird Divine Skill series in his hands.

“Southern Heaven Vermilion Bird Fist! That’s the general name for this set of martial arts. Actually, the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist should also be renamed the Western Extreme White Tiger Holy Fist,” Bai Lang muttered to himself.

At this moment, Bai Lang is regenerating—age is not important to the four poles of heaven. Today he can be a boy, tomorrow he can become an old man, and the day after tomorrow he can directly transform into a young man.

Your appearance may remain the same, but your age can change a thousand times.

The bushy beard and tiger-like eyebrows are temporarily gone, but Bai Lang still has the appearance of a dashing and imposing man, which attracts some young ladies. However, the original guy was known as the number one playboy and useless person, so they backed down immediately after hearing his name.

"They don't look alike at all. That guy is just a pretty boy with kidney deficiency, while I am a dignified, heroic, and valiant man." Bai Lang played around with the wooden dummy, his movements loose and his moves even more ambiguous.

Bai Lang didn't even bother to look at the Eagle Claw Kung Fu taught here. Anyway, when it came to the Ming Jin assessment, he could just make a crackling sound and that would be it.

How many years had it been since Bai Lang had witnessed such power struggles among lower-ranking martial artists? For a moment, it felt as if yesterday was replaying itself, giving him much to reflect upon.

"It has the style of those Hong Kong movies I watched back in the day. Back then, those gangsters ruined a generation of teenagers." Bai Lang smiled as he watched his "senior brothers" go out to set up a scene.

Fighting was inevitable, but all they were fighting over was the same thing – “A bastard is a bastard, he’ll never become a Red Pole.” Bai Lang had been dragged into it a few times.

Bai Lang mingled in the crowd, watching the immersive experience of the gangster movie. "It really makes you want to sing 'Flying Sand in the Wind'," he thought. The fights here were much more brutal than in the movies. Everyone here was a martial artist, and many of them had weapons. In a fight, four or five people would always fall down.

He pretended to be playing with air—he wasn't alone; at least a tenth of the people on the field were just as slacking off as he was. "Hey, that's what you call being alert. If you fight to the death, will the boss give you an extra penny?"

Only about one-fifth of them are truly risking their lives to do it; these are people with intellectual disabilities. The rest, who aren't just talking nonsense, are actually working together in a tacit agreement—but be careful, because there are always those who are so despicable and shameless that they suddenly resort to underhanded tactics when they are working together in a tacit agreement.

Even so, the scene was still bloody and chaotic. Sometimes, the two sides fighting were mortal enemies, and the fights became much more intense – as was the case between Flying Bird Martial Arts School and Golden Buddha Martial Arts School.

This time, the group coming to challenge them was the Golden Buddha Martial Arts School. They were famous for their Golden Buddha Kung Fu, which was said to give them a copper skin and iron bones and immense strength after mastering it.

They have always had a rivalry with the Asuka Martial Arts School and fiercely competed for the disciple market, so every time they meet, they fight each other, and it is impossible for no one to die.

The Golden Buddha Martial Arts School is full of men because practicing this martial art requires masculinity, which is very difficult for female students to master. Moreover, as their skills improve, their hair will gradually disappear, which is completely unacceptable for women.

The guys here are all tough. Eagle Claw Kung Fu will slip on their flesh, and even if you exert force, you can't penetrate it at all. "Oily-skinned old monster, huh?" Bai Lang found a wealthy family's house and climbed over the wall to enter.

"Speaking of martial arts, it really is the natural counter to Eagle Claw Kung Fu—that's because your Eagle Claw Kung Fu can only be called bird claw kung fu, it's far from being the claws of a raptor," Bai Lang said.

When Eagle Claw Kung Fu reaches its peak, there are two paths: one is the Dragon Thief Claw, and the other is the Scythe Dragon Claw.
The place where Bai Lang was located was the house of a wealthy family. Wealthy people have many vacant houses, so it wouldn't be a problem for Bai Lang to stay overnight. Right inside this house, a sharp whistling sound rang out. This was Bai Lang practicing his martial arts, accompanied by a slightly scorching sound of wind.

Some people just enjoy bullying others; they find pleasure in it—Bai Lang encountered such a guy.

He blended into the crowd as if he were no different from anyone else, so when the people from the Golden Buddha Martial Arts School saw Bai Lang strolling on the street, they immediately set their sights on him.

What other moves could they make? It's nothing more than the provocations of petty thugs, after which a fight can naturally break out.

Bai Lang was quite serious about playing the role of a martial arts novice, performing Eagle Claw Kung Fu with meticulous precision, except that every move he made inevitably drew blood.

"Sometimes, it's actually quite fun to fight with these low-level fighting styles," Bai Lang thought. It really reminded him of the Hong Kong Shaw Brothers martial arts movies he occasionally watched when he was a teenager. They were really fun.

Every move was precise and methodical, reminiscent of turn-based combat. Bai Lang reduced the opponent's health in each round, and after a few rounds, the guys from the Golden Buddha Martial Arts School ran away cursing and swearing.

Within the Flying Bird Martial Arts Academy, there are also numerous factions, but Bai Lang does not belong to any faction—even though he passed the three-month exam.

A disciple who can only unleash a single burst of Ming Jin (a type of internal force) has no talent to speak of, and in factional struggles, he can only be a background figure waving flags and shouting slogans.

He wasn't even allowed to be cannon fodder charging ahead. Bai Lang was happy with this. Having seen too much high-level intrigue, it was nice to see these lowly scoundrels fighting over the dragon head cane. "I won't hand over the ledger, I won't hand over the dragon head cane, I won't hand over anything!"

The Flying Bird Martial Arts School is composed of seven factions, consisting of the top five disciples with the "highest" martial arts skills and two disciples whose families have considerable "power" even though they are not the highest. Each faction forms its own group and interferes in the industry within the school.

Bai Lang belongs to the eighth faction, which is the one nobody wants to be in. He trains martial arts on his own like a nobody, and most of the time he is even bullied by the seven factions. For example, they don't get any money-making business, and they can forget about the rewards in the ticket. They have to buy their own pills.

However, their monthly allowance will not be reduced, which is much better than that of disciples who have not yet entered the sect.

At least they have a powerful backer, although that's only really useful in a small area.

The moment Bai Lang had been waiting for had arrived—one day, people from outside the city barged directly into the Bai residence, saying, "The karmic debts and misfortunes owed in the past are now due." The middle-aged man at the head of the group said this.

What kind of place is the Bai family mansion? It's a place where the head of the family has died out, and none of the people there are easy to deal with. So these people didn't say much and started looting right away, while using the blood of the Bai family as a sacrifice to seize their fortune.

No one came to rescue them, or rather, someone did come, but they immediately kowtowed and begged for mercy before leaving—because the person who came was a Grandmaster of Core Formation, an invincible figure in the outer city.

The higher-end options are definitely in the inner city; anything even higher has become a legend.