Quickly conquer the martial arts world, and let your fists dominate the heavens!

Chen Zhan pushed open the wooden door of the inn, and a smell mixed with alcohol, sweat and cigarette smoke hit him.

The inn's lobby was bustling with noise, and several square tables were filled with people, mostly gangsters wearing short jackets and carrying short knives at their waists, as well as some laborers.

In the corner, several shirtless, burly men were practicing with stone weights, the fist-sized weights flying through their hands.

It hit the ground with a dull thud, making the ground tremble slightly and sending shivers down the spines of those nearby.

There was also a burly man with a fierce face practicing hard qigong, with a thick wooden stick pressed against his chest, and two strong men pressing down on both ends.

He remained unfazed, drawing cheers from those around him.

Chen Zhan glanced at them and saw that their kung fu was rudimentary external martial arts, relying on brute force without any method or technique, barely reaching the basics.

He walked straight to the counter, behind which sat an old shopkeeper with gray hair, fiddling with an abacus, his eyes occasionally sweeping over the people in the lobby.

"Manager, please prepare a superior room."

Chen Zhan spoke, his tone calm and composed, yet he exuded an aura that seemed to diminish the surrounding noise.

The old shopkeeper raised his head, his gaze immediately falling on Chen Zhan's hair, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

He sized up Chen Zhan, who was dressed in a blue robe, with a refined face, delicate features, and was about twenty or thirty years old. He didn't look like a rough man, nor was he a foreigner or a missionary.

Nowadays in Tianjin, only foreigners, missionaries, and a few people with special backgrounds can avoid shaving their heads and growing queues.

Ordinary people wouldn't dare cross this line.

"Sir, have you returned from overseas?" The old shopkeeper put down his abacus and asked respectfully.

Upon hearing the words "other country," Chen Zhan's lips curled up slightly, and he smiled faintly: "I suppose so."

In the context of the chaotic late Qing Dynasty, the Song Dynasty he came from was indeed another country.

The old innkeeper nodded knowingly and didn't ask any more questions. He just solemnly reminded him, "Sir, if you get into trouble with the government, our inn can't protect you. But if it's a gang dispute, as long as you spend money in our shop and don't leave the shop, our Four Gates Cart Gang can help you out."

"Don't worry, you won't be implicated."

The old shopkeeper nodded, took the silver from Chen Zhan, weighed it in his hand, turned around and took out a key from the drawer, handing it over: "The innermost room on the third floor is quiet and safe. Please go upstairs, sir."

Chen Zhan took the key and turned to walk towards the stairs.

His conversation with the old shopkeeper wasn't quiet, and many people in the hall heard it and turned their attention to him.

Chen Zhan seemed oblivious to the stares and whispers around him.

He walked with no particular skill or technique, just a light, gentle gait, like a frail scholar.

Once inside the room, Chen Zhan casually closed the door.

The room was small but clean and tidy, with a table placed by the window, where there was plenty of natural light.

He called the waiter, who brought him some simple food and drinks. After the waiter left, he drank and ate alone.

Before long, after finishing the food and wine, Chen Zhan sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes slightly, concentrated his consciousness, and slowly looked inward at himself.

Within the dantian, the divine tiger of qi and blood still lingered, but it had lost its former vigor. Its eyes were closed, and it remained motionless, as if asleep, devoid of any life.

His inner energy was frozen solid, and no matter how he tried to activate it, it remained motionless.

He discovered this problem yesterday, ever since he traveled to this era.

There was no injury, no qi deviation, the meridians were intact, and everything was normal.

The only problem is that their strength is being forcibly suppressed.

The underlying reason is nothing more than the suppression by the world's rules.

The laws of this era do not allow the existence of a powerful figure like him who has broken through the boundary. Even if he forcibly breaks through the boundary to arrive here, his strength will be suppressed, and he will be unable to use his blood, martial arts, and true energy.

Now, he can only rely on his pure fist and foot skills, and his strength has roughly regressed to the level after embracing the elixir.

The Embracing the Core Realm is a watershed moment for martial artists.

The body's strength is concentrated and not released; the dantian is round and the intention is turned, which can concentrate the body's strength in one place and explode in an instant.

Even if he can only unleash half of his full power now, he is still far superior to ordinary boxers.

This man is not weak, but he can no longer turn everyone into an enemy state. Otherwise, if he stormed into the Forbidden City, the old witch would be easily captured, and even the Eight-Nation Alliance might not be able to stop him.

Chen Zhan's mind was churning with thoughts, and all sorts of past events came to mind.

Wandering through the world, time flies by, and more than twenty years have passed in the blink of an eye.

The fragmented memories of those time travels gradually faded, but the first few years after arriving in this world remained as clear as yesterday.

It was in the early years of the Republic of China. He had just arrived in Tianjin and had only a rudimentary understanding of martial arts. He stood on the martial arts stage with his fierce courage.

On stage, fists and feet clashed, bones cracked and flesh groaned. He killed Chiba Shiro with his sharp eyes and ruthless strength, but in doing so, he offended the Japanese martial arts world.

From his initial arrival in Tianjin, participating in martial arts tournaments, incurring the wrath of Japanese samurai, to meeting Ye Ningzhen and sharing hardships together.

The entire experience of the Republic of China is vividly remembered.

This time was only a little over thirty years ago, in 17.

This era was even more chaotic than the mid-Republic of China period.

Although firearms had appeared, they were not widespread and their power was limited, far from being able to overwhelm martial artists.

With the rise of outlaws and the emergence of numerous martial artists, masters from all walks of life are hiding in the streets and all sorts of places. It is a time when martial arts are flourishing.

Chen Zhan knew that the ten most famous martial arts masters of the Republic of China era, who were known to later generations, were still alive and most of them were at the peak of their martial arts careers.

The long-dormant heart of martial arts is now filled with anticipation.

But he was not in a hurry. The news of the Qing court's crushing defeat had only recently reached Tianjin, and all the forces were still observing and reacting. Before long, they would become even more unscrupulous.

The Qing Dynasty was already in decline and would only shrink its power further.

If this were in the capital, there would be some apprehension, after all, there were still imperial guards trained by the Qing court there, a place where hidden talents resided.

But Tianjin is different.

Most of the constables in the yamen were just there to make a living; their skills were mediocre, and there were only a few of them, not enough for him to handle alone.

Those gangs that have been entrenched in Tianjin may seem arrogant and domineering, having cultivated this land for many years, but in reality they are all bark and no bite.

When the foreign allied forces entered the city, these gangs ran faster than anyone else, without even a thought of resistance.

It wasn't that they couldn't defeat the musketeers; martial artists who had practiced to a high level could move with agility and dodge bullets, and even in a head-on confrontation, they could fight to the death.

However, with more power and wealth in their hands, they lost their courage and fighting spirit.

In this respect, only the Boxers deserve mention.

The claim of being invulnerable to swords and spears is nothing but a self-deceiving facade.

But their determination to kill the enemy remained undiminished. Even when trapped in dire straits, they dared to charge at the foreigners with their broadswords, never retreating even at the cost of their lives.

Such fierce courage, so humble as grass, yet as brilliant as the stars, is truly moving.

What Chen Zhan truly feared were the foreigners.

Tianjin is the northern gateway and an important port. Its waters are unpredictable. Foreigners have been established here for many years and have a great deal of influence. The waters here are very deep.

The Weibei Canal Gang controlled the waterways of Tianjin, though in reality it was just river transport.

The real maritime trade was firmly controlled by foreigners and the Qing government; gangs had no right to participate.

A foreign warship costs a fortune; even if the entire "Grand Duke of the Canal Gang" sold their entire family, they still couldn't afford one.

As I pondered these thoughts, it had already grown completely dark.

The hustle and bustle of the street gradually faded away, and the surroundings quieted down, with only a few lanterns swaying in the night.

The Four Gates Inn where Chen Zhan stayed was the most ordinary inn in Tianjin, mostly frequented by rickshaw pullers, laborers, and porters.

These people, weary from their day's work, would gather in the inn's lobby at night, spending no money to sample the innkeeper's cheap drinks, boasting and sharing local gossip to relieve their fatigue. His arrival undoubtedly provided them with a new topic of conversation.

In this era, all men had to shave their heads and braid their hair, but he alone had long hair, neither braiding nor shaving his head, and dared to swagger down the street and stay in an inn.

Some speculate that he has powerful backers, perhaps being a subordinate of some important figure.

Some people simply think that he is a fat sheep returning from overseas, and must be carrying a lot of money.

Late at night in Tianjin. Simen Inn.

The lobby lights had long been turned off, and everyone had gone to sleep, except for Chen Zhan's room, which remained completely dark.

Instead of sleeping, he set up a Wuji stance inside the house.

Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight, arms hanging naturally at your sides, eyes slightly closed, and breathing evenly and deeply.

His aura gradually blended with the silence of the room, and he became like an old tree root firmly planted in the ground, rooted to the spot and motionless.

There was no oil lamp lit in the room, nor were the windows opened. In the pitch black, only his steady breathing could be heard, barely audible.

"Boom boom boom!"

A knock on the door suddenly broke the silence inside the house.

Chen Zhan remained unmoved, maintaining his Wuji stance, his breathing perfectly steady, as if he hadn't heard a thing.

"Thump thump thump—!"

The knocking grew more urgent, then turned into a series of forceful bangs, causing the door to shake slightly.

The person outside the door remained silent, and Chen Zhan also remained silent, offering no response whatsoever.

After patting it a few more times, "Squeak—!"

The wooden door was gently pushed open a crack, and Chen Zhan opened his eyes slightly, a sharp gaze shooting through the crack towards the outside.

Three men stood outside the door, all with half-shaved heads and long braids, wearing short linen clothes with rolled-up sleeves revealing their muscular arms, and with a roguish air about them.

"What's up?" Chen Zhan broke the silence.

Among the three young men, the one in the middle raised an eyebrow, revealing forehead wrinkles so deep they could trap a fly, and spoke with a hint of arrogance: "My friend has broken the law, didn't you know?"

"What national law?"

"According to the Qing Dynasty law, the head must be shaved and the hair must be queued; if you keep your hair, you lose your head."

"Is your friend a foreigner?"

"No."

"That's right. The law is supreme. Your appearance means you've broken the law."

A hint of a smile flashed in Chen Zhan's eyes as he looked at the three of them with great interest.

These three men were not the drivers and laborers who mooched drinks in the inn's lobby during the day; they were more like street thugs who extorted money from passersby.

"Then how do we solve it?"

Seeing that Chen Zhan's tone had softened, the three men immediately revealed greedy smiles. The man in the middle said, "That's easy, that's easy. If we don't report him to the authorities, our friend will naturally be fine."

Chen Zhan nodded slowly, already understanding the other party's intentions, and a faint smile appeared on his lips: "It is indeed easy to solve. The three of you, please come in and discuss in detail."

The three exchanged a glance, a hint of smugness flashing in their eyes, and swaggered into the house.

The room was tidy and spotless, the bed was flat and the bedding was untouched, clearly indicating that Chen Zhan had no intention of resting.

Chen Zhan turned around and closed the wooden door, making the room even more enclosed. In the darkness, the breathing of the four people could be clearly heard.

The young man in the lead walked to the table, sat down, rubbed his hands together, and said bluntly, "My friend is a man of principle, so let's not beat around the bush. Ten taels of silver. We'll keep this to ourselves and never utter a word about it."

Chen Zhan walked to the table and sat down. He nodded as he picked up the teapot and slowly poured three cups of cold tea. His movements were unhurried. "Ten taels isn't much, but I have another way that's more reliable than using money."

The young man in the lead was taken aback, not thinking Chen Zhan was joking at all. Curious, he asked, "How do you plan to solve this?"

"Have some tea." Chen Zhan pushed the teacup in front of the three of them, his tone indifferent.

"Want some tea?"

“That’s right. After you finish this cup of tea, the three of you will definitely give up your previous idea.”

After hearing this, the three were initially puzzled, but then found it somewhat amusing and burst into laughter.

The young man in the lead waved his hand: "Alright, since my friend says so, let's drink. But you drink this one first."

As he spoke, he reached out and swapped the teacup in front of Chen Zhan with the one in front of him.

Chen Zhan smiled casually, picked up the teacup they had exchanged, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. The cool tea was refreshing and thirst-quenching, and his expression remained unchanged.

The other three exchanged glances. Seeing that Chen Zhan was unharmed, their vigilance lessened, and they all reached for their teacups.

The three of them picked up their teacups at the same time and looked at the tea inside.

The night was deep and the dew was heavy. The tea had been sitting for several hours, and its color had become somewhat dark. There were also some tea leaves at the bottom, but it didn't look out of place.

Without further hesitation, the young man tilted his head back and poured the tea into his mouth.

But just as the tea was about to enter his mouth, the teacup in his hand suddenly trembled slightly.

Immediately afterwards, the cup seemed to transform into a sandstorm, impossible to hold, gradually breaking into fine, sand-like porcelain shards that scattered with a "clatter".

It didn't shatter into a few pieces, but into countless tiny porcelain shards. Some of them fell into his mouth with the tea, while others landed on his lips and clothes.

"Puff puff puff—!"

Caught off guard, the young man swallowed the tea first, followed by tiny porcelain shards that stung his throat.

He quickly opened his mouth and coughed, trying to cough up the porcelain shards, but the shards were too small, and most of them slid down his throat with the tea. Only a small amount, mixed with blood, was coughed up.

Holy crap!

"What the hell is this thing?"

A thick Tianjin accent burst from his mouth, followed by a violent cough. His face turned red, but there was no severe pain.

The porcelain shards were shattered into tiny pieces, and although they cut the throat, they did not cause fatal injuries.

If the porcelain shard had been slightly larger, he would have already suffered a ruptured throat and was bleeding profusely, and his life would have been hanging by a thread.

Before the two people behind him could even bring their teacups to their lips, the teacups in their hands shattered instantly, scattering countless tiny porcelain shards all over the ground with a crisp sound.

The two were immediately shocked, then enraged, secretly relieved that they hadn't rushed to drink it.

"Damn it, you've got my brother in trouble! You're asking for it!"

The two men roared and slammed their fists on the table. With a flick of their sleeves, two flashes of cold light appeared, revealing the Emei daggers hidden in their sleeves, their sharpness fully exposed, pointing directly at Chen Zhan.

Chen Zhan remained seated, his expression calm, as if the sharp blade before him did not exist at all.

The young man, who had been coughing for a while, finally caught his breath and shouted angrily, "Stop it, you son of a bitch!"

The two men were taken aback, instinctively stopping what they were doing and turning to look at the young man in the lead, their faces full of confusion.

The young man in the lead took a deep breath, suppressing the stinging pain in his throat and the fear in his heart.

He strode up to Chen Zhan, clasped his hands in a respectful bow, and said with utmost awe, "I was blind to your greatness and did not know you were a master here. Please be merciful and spare us this time. I am Qin Ming, Little Thunderbolt, and I will repay you in the future."

Chen Zhan's skill was something that no ordinary martial artist could achieve.

Kneading porcelain into sand!

It seems simple, but in reality, one needs to cultivate internal strength to the point of being able to control it freely and with fine precision, so that the teacup can be shaken into such fine fragments without making the slightest premature sound.

Such skill is extremely rare even in Tianjin; this must be the work of a top-tier master. (End of Chapter)