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

The gunshots from the Yong'an Guild Hall were quieter than those from the Chinese Martial Arts Association. Deep in the alley, separated by several layers of walls, the sound was muffled and barely audible by the time it reached the street.

But eventually someone called the police.

When Mak Kai-ming received the news, he was drinking milk tea at a tea stall in Yau Ma Tei when a policeman ran over, covered in sweat.

"Mak Sir, there's been trouble again on Sai Yeung Choi Street in Mong Kok."

"again?"

"Another massacre. The Yong'an Fellow Association has lost more than a dozen people, all of whom were members of the Qingyi Society."

Mai Qiming spilled half of his milk tea.

When I put down my cup and led my men to the Yong'an Guild Hall, the scene was almost exactly the same as the one at the Chinese Martial Arts Federation last night.

The sentry at the gate died, the people in the courtyard died, the people on the second-floor corridor died, and a man in a Zhongshan suit died in the telegraph room.

The police found Tang Fengxian's body against the wall of the first-floor reception room. His eyes were still open, and there were no external injuries on his chest, but his heart was broken.

On the table lay half a broken knife, the cut so clean it looked as if it had been snapped off by something.

There were seven spent cartridge cases on the ground, from Browning pistols.

There were four bullets embedded in the wall.

Seven spent cartridge cases and four bullets.

Are there three left?
Mai Qiming squatted on the ground and searched for a long time, turning over the walls, the floor, and the tables and chairs, but he couldn't find any trace of the other three bullets.

The bullet was fired but didn't embed itself anywhere.

Did you hit it?
He stood up, looking at Tang Fengxian's corpse at the base of the wall, at the broken knife and spent cartridges on the ground, his mind buzzing.

This was done by the same person as last night.

The knife wounds were cut in the same way, the wounds from unarmed killings had the same characteristics, and the killer's modus operandi was the same.

They came in silently, killed everyone, and left silently.

He suddenly realized something.

Last night it was the Chinese Wushu Federation, and today it's the Wing On Association. Both places are the territory of the Tsing Yi Society.

The murderer was clearing out the Tsing Yi Society's strongholds one by one.

So where's next?

Mai Qiming came out of the Yong'an Guild Hall and stood at the entrance of the alley, his mind racing.

He had worked in this area for over a decade and knew the ins and outs of every street.

He wasn't entirely clear on the Tsing Yi Society's strongholds in Hong Kong and Kowloon, but he knew a few: the Sam Yee Tong on Temple Street in Yau Ma Tei was one, the Lee Kwan Trading Company in Causeway Bay was another, and it seemed there were some in Tsim Sha Tsui as well.

If the killer is really eliminating them one by one, he has to be the first to arrive.

"Go to Temple Street, to Sam Yee Tong, quick!"

A squad of police officers followed him as he ran toward Yau Ma Tei.

When I got to Temple Street, it was too late.

The doors of Sanyi Hall were wide open, and it was quiet inside.

Two people were lying on the back of the traditional Chinese medicine shop. The door to the armory in the backyard had been kicked open from the outside. The gun and ammunition boxes inside were still there, but all the guards were dead. There were four bodies: two lying at the door and two lying inside the armory.

The manner of death was exactly the same as the previous two places.

Mai Qiming stood in the backyard, looking at the corpse on the ground, the veins on his forehead throbbing twice.

We were a step too late again.

He turned and ran outside, shouting as he reached the street.

"To Tsim Sha Tsui! Tak Yee Martial Arts School!"

The police officers followed, rushing from Temple Street toward Nathan Road.

Tak Yee Martial Arts School is located on a side street that turns off Nathan Road. It has two courtyards, with the front for teaching martial arts and the back for living.

When Mai Qiming arrived with his men, a crowd of onlookers had gathered on Heng Street. Someone ran out of the martial arts school, his face covered in blood, shouting something unintelligible.

It's too late again.

Eleven people collapsed in the martial arts school. The school master, Liu Pingchuan, lay on the threshold of the backyard, his chest caved in, most of his ribs broken, and his eyes wide open.

When the police rushed in, the smell of blood in the air had not yet dissipated, and the blood on the ground was still warm.

The murderer had just left, less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Mai Qiming stood in the courtyard of the martial arts school, panting heavily.

From this morning until now, in just half a day, three locations have resulted in more than thirty deaths. Adding to the Chinese Martial Arts Association incident last night, four locations have resulted in more than fifty bodies.

It was done by one person.

His hands were trembling, and he was cursing Chen Zhan in his mind.

This person was killing in sequence, from Sheung Wan to Mong Kok to Yau Ma Tei to Tsim Sha Tsui, sweeping south along the Kowloon Peninsula, with less than an hour between each stop.

Mai Qiming led a team of police officers in pursuit, but each time they were half a step behind, and by the time they arrived, the people had already been killed and gone.

We can't catch up.

We simply can't catch up.

He leaned against the door frame of the martial arts gym, took out a cigarette, lit it, took two puffs, his hand was still shaking, and the ash fell on his uniform, but he didn't care.

How many other strongholds does the Tsing Yi Society have in Hong Kong and Kowloon? He didn't know for sure, but he did know one: the Lee Chun Trading Company in Causeway Bay.

That was the largest stronghold of the Tsing Yi Society in Hong Kong; the money exchange, ledgers, and all the financial transactions were kept there.

If the murderer intends to eradicate the Tsing Yi Society, the Lee Chun Trading Company is an unavoidable target.

This time, he wants to be ahead of the curve.

"Everyone, follow me to Causeway Bay, to Liqun Trading Company."

He threw away his cigarette butt and led his men toward the dock.

From Kowloon to Hong Kong Island, taking the Star Ferry across the harbor takes at least half an hour.

On the ferry, Mak Kai-ming stood at the bow, the sea breeze blowing on his sweat-drenched face. He picked up the walkie-talkie and contacted the police station on Hong Kong Island.

“Lee Chung Trading Company in Causeway Bay, immediately send people to seal it off, and do not allow anyone to enter or leave. I will be there from Kowloon soon.”

A series of rapid-fire replies came through the walkie-talkie. The police on Hong Kong Island were also overwhelmed by today's series of bloodshed, but orders are orders, and the officers were sent over.

As the ferry docked, Mak Kai-ming led his men on a jog from the Central Ferry Pier, across Queen's Road, and into Causeway Bay.

A group of police officers had already surrounded the entrance of Liqun Trading Company.

More than twenty men, fully armed with rifles and bayonets, surrounded the three-story building, blocking the front, back, and side doors, and even standing under the windows on the second floor.

When Mai Qiming arrived, he glanced at the scene and breathed a sigh of relief.

This time, he got there first.

The people inside Liqun Trading Company were still alive. The manager, Lao Zhou, and several employees were so frightened that they huddled behind the counter, too scared to move. The accounting office upstairs was also unaffected by the attack.

Mai Qiming walked into the store, flashed his police badge, had someone bring Lao Zhou over for a few questions, and then went up to the third floor to take a look at Shen Tingdong's office.

The door was locked, and there were no signs of forced entry. Shen Tingdong hadn't returned since leaving this morning.

He was unaware that Shen Tingdong had died on the second floor of the Yong'an Guild Hall.

The police set up three layers of sentry posts inside and outside the shop, using rifles, pistols, batons, and everything else they could find.

Mai Qiming stood at the entrance of Liqun Trading Company, smoking a cigarette, watching the pedestrians coming and going on the street.

Causeway Bay was as bustling as ever, with trams clanging past and vendors hawking their wares. No one knew that this ordinary grocery store was surrounded by dozens of heavily armed police officers.

He inhaled the cigarette down to the butt, threw it on the ground and stomped it out, then lit another one.

More than twenty police officers, rifles and pistols, surrounded him in three layers. He wanted to see if that person dared to come.

Evening, Yau Tsim Mong.

Chen Zhan walked north from Tsim Sha Tsui, crossed Nathan Road, and turned into a narrow alley in Yau Ma Tei.

As darkness fell, the food stalls along the street set up their stoves, and the smoke from the cooking oil mixed with the smell of salted fish drifted into the alley. There were seven or eight people queuing in front of the beef offal stall.

The old six-story building had most of its exterior plaster peeled off, revealing the red interior. The stairwell was dark and unlit.

Fang Henian squatted at the alley entrance, holding a newspaper in his hand, as if waiting for someone.

Seeing Chen Zhan approach, she stood up, glanced at the few dark spots on his clothes, and nodded without saying a word.

Chen Zhan went upstairs, the wooden stairs creaking.

At the end of the third-floor corridor, Fang Heming leaned against the wall, clutching a dagger in his hand. He tightened his grip when he heard footsteps, but relaxed it when he saw who it was.

Push open the innermost door.

Ruan Zhi sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall, holding half a bowl of medicine in her hand. She took a sip and frowned at the bitter taste. Hearing the door open, she looked up.

"Brother-in-law, you're back."

Chen Zhan hummed in agreement, took off his hat and placed it on the table, then took off his long robe and hung it on the back of the chair. There were a few dark stains on the hem of his robe, barely visible in the dim light.

How are you feeling today?

"much better."

Ruan Zhi didn't argue about it and put down the medicine bowl.

"Come on, turn your back around."

Ruan Zhi turned around, her back to him.

Chen Zhan placed his palm on the Mingmen acupoint on her back, and with the stimulation of his Qi and blood, a warm and gentle force seeped into her palm and slowly pushed along Ruan Zhi's meridians.

The method of "pushing the uterus to clear blood" uses one's own blood and energy to guide the injured person's blood and energy, clearing blockages and gradually dispersing any remaining hidden injuries.

Ruan Zhi has a solid foundation. The meridians of a master of internal energy transformation are wider than those of an ordinary person, and the channels for the circulation of qi and blood are still intact. Pushing along the original channels will achieve twice the result with half the effort.

She closed her eyes, her breathing gradually became heavier, and her back felt slightly warm.

It took about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

Chen Zhan withdrew his hand, his palm slightly hot.

"The internal injury is better than a few days ago. After another half month of rest, it will be 70-80% fine, and in another three or four months it will be almost fully recovered."

Ruan Zhi turned around, moved her fingers, and clenched her fist. Her complexion was much better than before.

The room was quiet for a while.

Chen Zhan asked, "What's the situation in Shanghai right now?"

Ruan Zhi's expression darkened slightly.

"Oh no, I've been in Hong Kong for three months now, and I don't know how things are going on my sister's side."

She recounted the situation in Hong Kong before, about three months ago, the pro-unification faction, in conjunction with the Military Intelligence Bureau, took direct action, shutting down martial arts schools, arresting people, and raiding liaison points. Several strongholds of the Soviet faction in Shanghai were destroyed one after another.

"Those who could be transferred have all been transferred; those who couldn't be transferred are hiding and doing underground work."

"How many people were arrested?"

“When I left, there were more than twenty of them. Several of them went missing and there’s still no news of them.” Ruan Zhi lowered her voice. “Some of them may no longer be here.”

Chen Zhan nodded.

Ruan Zhi turned to look at him, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.

“My sister sent me to Hong Kong not only to recover from my injuries, but also to leave Hong Kong a way out if Shanghai can’t hold on.”

"I know."

"Brother-in-law, are you planning to go to Shanghai?"

“I’m definitely going, and I can’t wait for you for three months. I’ll be leaving in a week. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of the Green Robe Society.”

Chen Zhan stood up and walked out: "You should recover from your injury first. I will send you a message from Shanghai."

Ruan Zhi watched his retreating figure, her lips moved slightly, but she didn't say anything.

Chen Zhan walked to a table and rewrote a prescription, then said, "The prescription is a bit dry. I'll rewrite it and have Heming get it tomorrow."

Push the door open and go out.

Fang Heming accepted the prescription in the corridor and nodded.

Outside the alley, the Yau Ma Tei night market was bustling with activity, brightly lit and crowded with people. Fish ball vendors were calling out their wares, and the proprietress of a herbal tea shop was doing her accounts.

Chen Zhan put on his hat, pulled the brim down, and walked into the crowd, disappearing from sight in a few steps.

For the next three days, Hong Kong and Kowloon were unusually calm.

There were no bloodshed incidents, no massacres, and even the police station's phone rang less often than usual.

The number of police officers at the entrance of Liqun Trading Company decreased from more than twenty to ten, then to five, and by the fourth day, only two officers remained on duty, sitting at the entrance drinking tea.

Mai Qiming did not let his guard down.

He returned to the police station, spread the case files from the four crime scenes on the table, and went through them from beginning to end.

The coroner's autopsy report was written simply because most of the deceased had the same cause of death: shattered internal organs, no obvious external injuries, and a few had stab wounds, but the stab wounds were from the deceased themselves.

The killer was not carrying a weapon.

He killed fifty-five people with his bare hands, including a Liuhe Sect master at the peak of the Transformation Realm.

Mai Qiming doesn't understand martial arts, but he has been in this industry for more than ten years and has seen all sorts of people. He knows a little about what the term "Hua Jin" means.

Among martial arts practitioners in Hong Kong and Kowloon, those who can reach the level of "Hua Jin" can be counted on one hand, and each of them is a pillar of their respective school.

He began his investigation.

Chen Zhan only killed members of the Green Robe Society, and since it was broad daylight, some people would inevitably see it.

After several days, a vague outline was pieced together.

Male, young, tall, around 1.8 meters, on the thin side, wearing a long gown and a hat with the brim pulled low.

He walks at a moderate pace, alone.

The face is not visible.

Mai Qiming pieced the fragments together and drew a rough outline.

Tall, thin, wearing a long gown and a hat, young, with a steady gait.

However, Mai Qiming discovered...
Three or four days before the incident, someone was frequently seen near several strongholds of the Tsing Yi Society. The owner of the breakfast stall in front of the Sam Yee Tong recalled that a middle-aged man in a suit came to eat porridge in the morning. After finishing his meal, he did not leave. He sat there smoking and kept looking towards the Sam Yee Tong.

The owner of a cigarette stall near the Yong'an Guild Hall also said that a person who looked similar came to buy cigarettes and stood at the entrance of the alley for a while.

Middle-aged, wearing a suit, not short, with a long face, high cheekbones, and prominent brow bones.

Mai Qiming has worked in this area for over a decade; he doesn't need to check his appearance.

Han Shouyi of the Green Dragon Gang.

He has businesses in both the city walls and the docks. I heard he trained in martial arts in the north in his younger days, unlike ordinary gangsters.

What were they doing, monitoring the Tsing Yi Society's stronghold a few days before the incident?
Mai Qiming led two police officers to Han Shouyi's territory.

Next to the dock where the Green Dragon Gang's storefront is located, there's a teahouse on the second floor. Inside the private rooms, filled with smoke, three or five people are playing cards and drinking tea.

Han Shouyi sat by the window, a pot of Tieguanyin tea in front of him, and two walnuts in his hands, which he twirled with a clicking sound.

Seeing Mak Kai-ming come in, he smiled and said, "Oh, Mr. Mak, what brings you here? Have a seat and some tea."

Mai Qiming pulled up a chair and sat down. He didn't drink tea, but took out a cigarette and lit it.

Have you heard about what's been happening outside lately?

"What is it? Which matter?" Han Shouyi picked up his teacup, took a sip, and pretended to be clueless. "There's a lot going on. I'm just a dockworker, I'm not well-informed."

"The matter of the Blue Robe Society."

"The Blue Robe Society?" Han Shouyi frowned, as if trying to think. "Oh, you mean that martial arts association? It was in the newspaper. I glanced at it, and it's terrible, tsk tsk."

Mai Qiming stared at his face for a few seconds.

“Someone saw you sitting in front of the Sanyi Hall for two mornings, and you also went to the Yong'an Guild Hall.”

Han Shouyi paused for a moment, then started spinning the walnut again, patting his thigh.

“San Yi Tong? That liniment shop on Temple Street? I’d forgotten about it if you hadn’t mentioned it, Mr. Mak. My back was bothering me a while back, and I heard there was a pharmacy there that was good at applying plasters. I went there twice, but it was ridiculously expensive, so I didn’t buy anything.”

"Yong'an. I went to Mong Kok last week to take care of some business. I passed by and took a look. It was some kind of hometown association. I didn't go in. I just had a cigarette and left."

Every sentence has an explanation, and every explanation is reasonable and watertight.

Mai Qiming finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

"Old Han, fifty-odd lives are no small matter. If you know anything, you'd better tell me."

Han Shouyi placed the walnuts on the table and looked at him intently.

“Mak Sir, I, Han Shouyi, have been in Yau Ma Tei for so many years, I know what I can and cannot do. More than fifty lives? My legs go weak when I hear that. I’m a dockworker, I wouldn’t dare to touch such a thing.”

When he said his "legs went weak," there was definitely fear in his eyes.

Mai Qiming saw it and thought he was afraid of the murderer.

And indeed, Han Shouyi was indeed afraid of the murderer, Chen Zhan.
Han Shouyi had been in Hong Kong for several years and knew that each gang had its own double-flower red stick and white paper fan, and they all claimed to have a certain number of lives on their hands.

But when it comes to a real fight, they're all all talk and no action; very few can actually fight, and even fewer dare to kill.

Chen Zhan is truly ruthless when it comes to killing!
His fearsome reputation was too great. (End of Chapter)