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

Chen Zhan traveled quickly, and sirens were blaring and gunfire was being fired throughout the capital. The guards were also on their way.

But naturally, they couldn't catch a glimpse of Chen Zhan.

As the night gradually faded, we ventured into the alleyways.

The cellar of Yongshun Rice Shop is empty.

When Chen Zhan rushed in, there was still a half-bowl of unfinished rice soup on the ground, and the fire in the stove was not completely extinguished, with the embers glowing red.

There was a piece of iron chain in the corner, stained with blood, the break was fresh, it had just been taken off not long ago.

Once the person is gone, it will only take the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

This distance
Chen Zhan calculated that it was about 700 or 800 meters away, and he could hear the gunshots from that direction.

The guards came when they heard the noise.

The Bureau of Investigation and Statistics caused quite a commotion in the east of the city. Fires lit up half the sky, and the sounds of gunfire and collapses could be heard across more than a dozen alleys. The escorts dared not wait until dawn, so they dragged Li Qingsu out of the cellar and set off ahead of schedule.

Two fresh wheel tracks outside the courtyard gate, pressing over the frost-covered earth, headed west toward Guang'an Gate, and beyond the city lay the road to Pingjin.

Chen Zhan did not delay.

When we left Guang'anmen, it was still dark, with only a sliver of gray and white appearing at the edge of the clouds in the east.

The Pingjin Railway runs southeast along the highway, the railway stretching in a straight line through the fields, with harvested sorghum fields on both sides, leaving stubble half a foot high, covered with white frost, crunching underfoot.

Chen Zhan chased after them along the railway.

He had two broken ribs on his left side and the scabs on his brow bone were still there, but this did not affect his pace.

His body was indestructible, and his blood and qi flowed freely in his meridians, urging his two legs to move backward. Half a foot of sorghum stubble formed a white shadow under his feet.

Shrinking the earth to an inch, taking a step of more than ten feet, the ridges, ditches, and grave mounds flashed past my side, the wind whistling in my ears.

The utility poles along the railway were falling backward, one after another, at an increasingly rapid pace.

After running for more than ten miles, he saw the road ahead.

Under a gray-white horizon, a train lay motionless on the railway tracks, completely dark.

A locomotive with six or seven carriages attached, the first few being boxcars and the last two being covered carriages.

The locomotive's chimney was still emitting smoke. It was not parked straight, with the front slightly off the tracks. The track in front was littered with things: pried-up rails, sleepers, and several large stones.

The path has been exposed.

In the fields on both sides of the train, many figures lay in ambush, firing shots at the carriages from the ridges and ditches.

Gunfire erupted from inside the carriages, streaks of gunfire shooting out from the gaps in the boxcars and the windows of the covered wagons. The gunfire echoed far and wide across the open fields.

Two groups of people are fighting over a car.

Chen Zhan didn't stop walking; he had already assessed the situation from his ears.

Lying in the field was a gang of bandits, dozens of them, carrying all sorts of weapons: old rifles, Hanyang rifles, several Mauser pistols, as well as matchlock guns and muskets. They were dressed in all sorts of clothes, with white and red cloths tied around their heads, the kind of outfits commonly seen on the northern roads.

They hijacked the car and broke into the road; they were after the goods inside.

In those chaotic years of war, a special train with sealed cargo boxes, so heavily guarded, must have been carrying military pay or weapons.

Little did they know that when they rushed up, they found that the car was full of Kuomintang agents, all of them armed and ruthless. They couldn't take them down immediately, and the two sides opened fire between the fields and the car.

As dawn broke and a sliver of light appeared, Chen Zhan's gaze passed over the gunfire, over the metal of the train carriage, and landed inside the third boxcar.

The carriage was opened slightly for delivery.

A woman in the corner of the carriage.

He was huddled among a pile of hay and sacks, his wrists chained together, the other end of the chain fastened to an iron ring on the carriage.

She leaned half her body against the car wall, her breathing was light and intermittent, her chest rose and fell shallowly, she was severely depleted of qi and blood, old injuries were pressing on new ones, and she looked like she hadn't fully recovered after more than half a month of suffering.

Li Qingsu.

A fierce battle was taking place outside the carriage, with bandits and Kuomintang agents fighting over the goods, while simultaneously protecting them. It had nothing to do with Chen Zhan.

All he wanted was the person in the car.

Chen Zhan strode towards the train, too lazy to take detours or use the ridges and ditches for cover. Right at the moment when the two groups were exchanging fire, he walked straight towards the train from the open field.

The poles in the field saw him first.

In the pitch-black dawn, a man calmly walked into the gunfire zone; everyone thought he was courting death.

Several guns turned around and fired at him.

But strangely, the moment the gunman fired, the person would suddenly change their speed, either fast or slow, just to avoid the bullet's trajectory.

Moreover, his steps were perfectly steady.

The men who had just fired were immediately surprised, thinking it was an illusion. They raised their guns again and fired in Chen Zhan's direction. This time, it was the same; Chen Zhan didn't move much, but his speed suddenly increased.

"Holy crap, is this a ghost?"

"Why can't I hit it?"

The bandit wearing a felt hat rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. The man next to him said, "Second Brother, who was that? He walked so fast."

"I don't know, it's a bit strange."

In his mind, there's no such thing as a gun that can't hit anything, only that it can't be aimed accurately. If a gun can't hit anything, is he even human?

However, before he could even react with surprise, Chen Zhan had already approached.

The purpose was unclear, but the man was already in front of them, and it was impossible for him to stand idly by. So a burly man stood up from the ditch.

He had one arm bare, covered by a tattered cotton-padded coat with cotton padded out through the rips. He wasn't carrying a gun, but clutching a pair of iron maces in his hand. The muscles on his arms bulged, a testament to years of rigorous physical training.

He stared at Chen Zhan, let out a muffled roar, rushed forward, and slammed the iron mace down on his head.

With his exceptionally strong and powerful physical skills, he could smash an ordinary person's head and shoulder into a heap with a pair of iron maces.

Chen Zhan raised his hand.

One hand caught the falling iron mace.

The iron mace stopped in mid-air, motionless. The veins on the man's arms bulged, and all his strength was pressed down on the mace, but it couldn't be pushed down even half an inch. The mace head was firmly nailed in mid-air, unshakable.

Chen Zhan snapped his fingers together, and the iron mace broke in two.

With his other hand, he gently pushed the man's chest.

The man was sent flying backward, his cotton-padded coat covering half of the iron mace. He crashed into the ditch behind him, smashing down a patch of sorghum stubble. He lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up.

The sticks were completely thrown into chaos.

Behind the ditch, under a large flag, stood a lean old man, about fifty years old, wearing a long cotton robe, with two Mauser pistols tucked into his waistband, and an old scar on one side of his face, running from the corner of his eye to his chin.

The leader of the bandits.

He watched helplessly as his best fighter was knocked down with a single hand by the newcomer, and the muscles on his face tensed.

Chen Zhan stopped in front of the train, glanced back at the leader, and spoke in a low voice that drowned out the sporadic gunshots.

"Take the goods on the truck if you want."

"There's a woman in the third sealed container. I'll take her with me. I don't care about anything else."

The Kuomintang agents on the train also saw Chen Zhan. Through the gaps in the metal of the freight car, a pair of eyes watched the person walking from the field.

The escort leader's surname was Ma, given name Tong, a manager of the Qingyi Society in Beiping, with the skill of Huajin, and was escorting people to Tianjin on a note from Liu Yunqiao.

He originally stayed by the train, waiting to see the poles in the fields until dawn, waiting for the city to come and pick him up, and then repair the railway.

However, thinking about the chaos in the city only made him more anxious.

Seeing Chen Zhan heading straight for the third section of the sealed container, Ma Tong's heart sank to the bottom.

He couldn't recognize Chen Zhan's face, but he could tell that the newcomer possessed extraordinary martial arts skills. Despite the commotion in the city last night, none of the men Liu Yunqiao sent out had returned…

They came for this woman.

One must never fall back into the enemy's hands.

He grabbed a Mauser pistol from the corner of the carriage, pried open the gun barrel, turned around, and aimed the muzzle at Li Qingsu, who was locked in the haystack.

In the field, Chen Zhan's feet suddenly sank.

The moment the gun was pointed at the haystack, the people in the field vanished.

Ma Tong pulled the trigger with his index finger.

The gun didn't fire.

A hand had somehow gripped the muzzle of the Mauser pistol, fingers wedged between the hammer and the barrel, iron against iron. The trigger was pulled all the way down, the hammer slammed down, striking the fingers, but couldn't break it.

Chen Zhan stood beside him, having entered the carriage at some unknown time.

Ma Tong's pupils contracted slightly. Several thoughts rushed through his mind at once: abandon his gun, change tactics, retreat. But he didn't have time to think about any of them.

The next moment, the gun was completely crushed into a ball.

He stepped back, but Chen Zhan followed closely, his hand slid up the gun and quickly climbed up his arm. "Crack, crack, crack," with Chen Zhan's movements, his arm emitted terrifying explosions.

Ma Tong was also a master. With a forceful tug, he abandoned his right arm, and even used the blood that splattered out to throw at Chen Zhan, trying to block his view.

But it didn't work.

Chen Zhan didn't use any clever force at all; he simply pushed the hammer horizontally. This hammer strike was extremely versatile, containing all the variations of the Tai Chi hammer technique.

The word "fierce" simply cannot describe it.

The hammer was faster than the blood curtain, "Bang!"

With a muffled thud, Ma Tong's body flew backward, tearing open several large gashes and nearly shattering into pieces. He slammed against the metal of the carriage, bounced, and landed in the hay.

The carriage fell silent.

The woman chained in the haystack stirred.

More than half a month has passed, and Li Qingsu has had no hope of ever getting out since he fell into Liu Yunqiao's hands.

She endured interrogation, torture, and being dragged out of bed for questioning time and time again in the middle of the night, without uttering a single word. She risked her life, waiting for the day she couldn't take it anymore, or the day she would be shot to death.

She thought it was time to end things when gunfire broke out outside the car.

A sliver of dawn's grey light peeked through the seams of the train carriage's metal sheets. She saw a man standing where Ma Tong had fallen. He was wearing a grey cloth shirt, of medium build, and had an ordinary appearance—a middle-aged man whom no one would give a second glance.

She didn't recognize the person's face.

The person in front of her squatted down, reached out and grabbed the chain on her wrist, gave it a gentle shake, and the chain broke and fell into the hay.

He spoke, his voice very low.

"The red leaves of the Western Hills have faded, but tomorrow the green willows will provide shade."

Li Qingsu paused for a moment.

The phrase "The red leaves of Xishan have fallen" is indeed an internal code, but the second half is a special agreement between the three sisters.

She raised her head and, in the dim light, stared at the person in front of her.

The face was unfamiliar.

As Li Qingsu was surprised, Chen Zhan reached out and pulled him aside, causing the bullet to whiz past him.

"It's me, I'm back, wait for me."

After Chen Zhan finished speaking, his figure flashed and disappeared. The person who had just fired the shot was still wondering why he couldn't hit the back. Even if he had eyes in the back of his head, they couldn't possibly be faster than a bullet.

The person who fired the shot was not in the same carriage as Chen Zhan and Li Qingsu, but they were not far apart.

The next moment, a loud "boom!" was heard.

The moment the loud bang reached the carriage, several Kuomintang agents inside, along with the carriage itself, were thrown out, the immense force causing the several-meter-long, sealed freight car to detach from the railway tracks.

The bandits who blocked the road and the surviving spies were both stunned.

Although the freight car was not as heavy as a military train, it still weighed at least several tons, and the man simply pressed down with one hand, instantly sending it flying.

It was as if he had been hit and thrown by another train, crushing several spies and leaving them silent.

When Chen Zhan returned to the carriage where Li Qingsu was, he had already changed back to his original appearance, and Li Qingsu finally remembered who the voice was.

"...Brother-in-law?"

Her voice trembled, her chapped lips quivered, and tears that she hadn't shed for over half a month welled up in her eyes.

"It's me." Chen Zhan removed the chains from her wrists and ankles one by one. "I'm late."

Li Qingsu tried to stand up, but his injuries were too severe, and he couldn't, so he fell back into the hay.

She gripped Chen Zhan's sleeve tightly, as if afraid he would disappear if she let go.

"Sister...where is eldest sister? Little sister..."

“They’re all alive.” Chen Zhan took off his outer garment and wrapped it around her. “Ningzhen is in the Soviet area, and my little sister is in Hong Kong. We’re just missing you.”

As Li Qingsu listened, tears streamed down her face, and the breath she had been holding onto for over half a month finally let out.

Chen Zhan picked her up, turned around, and got out of the freight car.

Outside the train carriage, the gunfire had stopped sometime earlier.

The poles in the fields, the remnants of the Kuomintang secret police in the carriage—none of them made a move. Under the banner, the bandit leader clutched two Mauser pistols, but dared not fire.

Chen Zhan carried Li Qingsu and walked past the front of the car at a slow pace. He stopped in front of the chief.

“The things in the car are yours,” he said. “The Military Intelligence Bureau is holding military pay; it’s enough for you brothers to have a good New Year.”

The leader's Adam's apple bobbed, his Mauser pistol slowly drooped, he clasped his hands in a fist salute, and didn't dare to utter a sound.

Chen Zhan carried the person and walked into the fields, his figure flashing across the harvested sorghum fields, heading south.

The clouds in the east turned a thin line of red; dawn was approaching.

The person in my arms was very light. After more than half a month of neglect, they had become so thin that they were unrecognizable, and their breath was so shallow that they were almost impossible to hold.

Chen Zhan walked steadily, not letting her suffer the slightest jolt.

Li Qingsu did not die.

He didn't have to go back to see Ye Ningzhen with bad news. (End of Chapter)