Republic of China era: Actor? Please call me Martial Arts Master!

Chapter 181 Jinling National Martial Arts Academy

In mid-April, spring in Beijing finally allowed people to shed their padded coats completely.

The area around Tianqiao was originally the drill ground of the Manchu Plain Yellow Banner during the Qing Dynasty. It had been abandoned for many years and was overgrown with weeds that were half a person tall.

Aside from a few wild children catching sparrows, not even a stray dog ​​would dare to come near this place.

But in the past two weeks, this place has become the liveliest place in all of Beiping.

The land was approved by Commander Zhang, the money came from the Huo family, and Master Yuan of the Green Gang sent hundreds of burly disciples and followers to work day and night to level the ground, lay bricks, and install tiles.

In less than half a month, a martial arts school covering dozens of acres, with blue bricks and gray tiles, exuding an ancient and solemn atmosphere, rose from this barren land.

The martial arts school didn't have any fancy names; above the main entrance hung a two-zhang-long plaque made of golden nanmu wood.

There was no signature on it, only four large characters carved out with a knife and axe, the strokes strong and powerful, penetrating the wood.

[National Martial Arts]

These four characters were carved by Lu Cheng himself, using the ancient "Po Lu" sword, under the moonlight, stroke by stroke.

Without using a single drop of ink, the wood grain seemed to exude a chilling aura that could cleave through the gloom of this chaotic world.

Today is the official opening day of the martial arts school.

There was no gonging or drumming, no lion or dragon dances, and even the usual formalities of hanging red ribbons and cutting ribbons were omitted.

Lu Cheng has only one rule: pursue only true martial arts, not fancy tricks.

Just after dawn, the sky began to lighten with a pale, fish-belly-like glow.

The yellow earth outside the Tianqiao training ground was already a dark, dense mass.

If an uninformed person saw this, they would surely think that some wealthy family was distributing porridge.

The people who came were all the poorest and most destitute people in Beijing.

There were laborers carrying loads, their shoulders calloused from wearing tattered rags.

There was a rickshaw puller whose soles were covered in blisters.

There was a young apprentice in Dashilan who was so hungry that he was emaciated.

There were even a dozen or so young girls wearing patched clothes, their eyes timid yet stubborn.

They didn't carry any tuition fees for becoming apprentices; most of them carried two dry, hard cornbread buns or a jar of cold, burnt tea.

In those days, a bag of flour cost two and a half silver dollars, and pork cost two mao per pound.

Ordinary people are struggling to make ends meet, so where would they find the spare money to go to a martial arts school to become an apprentice?

The tuition fee of two silver dollars a month at an ordinary martial arts school was an astronomical figure for them.

But today, they came.

Because the whole of Beiping was saying that Master Lu from the Qingyun Troupe, that living god, had opened a martial arts school that didn't charge a penny.

As long as you are Chinese and you are willing to work hard, you can learn real skills and killing techniques that will prevent you from being bullied by foreigners and thugs.

"Creak—"

'

The heavy, black lacquered doors slowly pushed open to both sides.

The previously noisy crowd fell silent instantly, with hundreds of eyes turning to look inside the door.

The person who came out was not Lu Cheng in a moon-white long robe, but an old man who was so thin he was skin and bones and wore an old gray cloth jacket.

Zhang Sanjia.

This last martial arts champion of the Qing Dynasty has now completely shed the allure of opium.

Although his body still looks like it could be blown over by a gust of wind.

But the thin rattan cane he was carrying, soaked in tung oil, and the menacing aura emanating from his deep-set old eyes sent a chill down the spines of all the able-bodied men present.

"Are they all mute?"

Zhang Sanjia, his voice hoarse, suddenly slammed the rattan cane in his hand, and a crisp "snap" rang out in the cold morning air.

"Those who come to learn boxing, men stand on the left and women stand on the right."

"Anyone with old injuries or tuberculosis, go to the backyard, get some medicine, and go home to rest. This martial arts school isn't a shelter; it's a place to toughen up your bones!"

"From this day forward, once you step through this door, you are no longer rickshaw pullers, laborers, or shop assistants."

The old scholar's cloudy eyes swept across the entire audience, and his voice suddenly rose, as if he had returned to the days when he was reviewing troops on the drill ground.

"You are brutes."

"If you have no food, the martial arts school will provide you with two full meals. If you have no clothes, the martial arts school will provide you with training clothes."

"But if anyone dares to cheat or shirk their duties here, or uses their farming skills to bully ordinary people—"

Zhang Sanjia sneered, and with a flick of his rattan cane in mid-air, he produced a sonic boom.

"This old man's cane doesn't recognize people, it only recognizes broken bones!"

Below the steps, hundreds of ordinary people were so shocked that they didn't dare to even breathe.

But then, someone in the crowd, without anyone knowing who was leading the way, knelt down on the yellow earth with a "thud".

"Master, please accept our bow."

Splash!

Hundreds of people knelt down in unison, like wheat fields swaying in the wind, their foreheads striking the earth heavily.

There are no sectarian formalities, only the most genuine gratitude and reverence of ordinary people.

Zhang Sanjia watched this scene, his withered hands trembling slightly.

Thirty years ago, he also had three hundred apprentices, but all of them fell to the machine guns of the foreigners.

Now, looking at these children whose hopes have been rekindled, the old man's eyes welled up with tears.

He tilted his head back, forcefully suppressing the slight moisture, turned around, and roared, "Enter the hall, assume the horse stance!"

Just as Zhang Sanjia in the front yard transformed into a devilish instructor, training those poor guys until they were drenched in sweat.

Inside the martial arts hall in the backyard, however, was a completely different scene.

Lu Cheng lay half-reclined on a rosewood rocking chair, covered with a light gray shirt.

He held a white jade teacup in his hand, filled with freshly harvested pre-Qingming Longjing tea.

Shunzi and Lu Feng stood on either side of him, giving a report.

"Master, Old Master Zhang is setting up rules in the front yard. Those poor folks may have a poor foundation, but they are willing to endure hardship."

"The old man made them stand in the Three-Body Stance with bricks on their heads, and not one of them complained of being tired."

Shunzi said with a simple smile.

Lu Cheng nodded slightly and gently fiddled with the tea lid.

"The poor are scholars, the rich are warriors; that saying was true in the past."

"But in today's world, if poor people don't learn martial arts, they'll only end up as meat on the chopping block for foreigners and compradors."

"Senior Zhang has survived countless battles, and the foundation he taught is far more effective than any fancy but ineffective techniques."

Just then, Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, rushed in from the front yard, looking somewhat flustered.

"Sir, there's a group of people outside!"

"Which warlord's spy is this time?"

Lu Feng snorted coldly and placed his hand on the single-edged sword at his waist.

"General Xing's bald head hasn't even grown any hair yet, and he's already trying to stir up trouble?"

"Not a warlord—"

Old Zhang wiped his sweat.

"They look like officials, but they're all skilled martial artists."

"Four black Ford sedans were parked right in the middle of our gate. The person in the lead handed over a gold-embossed invitation, saying—that they were an inspection team sent by the Jinling Martial Arts Academy!"

National Martial Arts Hall.

Both Shunzi and Lu Feng were stunned when those three words were uttered.

Lu Cheng's fingers paused lightly on the edge of the teacup, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes.

With a slight turn of his "exquisite mind," he grasped the key to understanding the matter.

After having his head shaved, Commander Xing was terrified and naturally dared not openly cause trouble anymore.

However, he was in cahoots with Song Peilun, and this inspection team of the "National Martial Arts Academy" was clearly the result of Song Peilun's efforts in Nanjing.

Using the official name and the banner of "orthodoxy," they suppressed him, a self-made warlord who rose from humble beginnings.

"The National Martial Arts Academy of Nanjing?"

Lu Cheng put down his teacup, stood up, and smoothed out the wrinkles at the hem of his long robe.

"These gentlemen aren't enjoying their retirement in the south; they've come to this Beiping city to starve. They're up to no good."

"Master, if they come to cause trouble, I'll lead the brothers to drive them out," Lu Feng said through gritted teeth.

"madness."

Lu Cheng unfolded his folding fan and gently tapped Lu Feng's shoulder.

"They're using the official banner, it's all for the greater good."

"If you blast them, you'll confirm their accusation of being 'bandits and outlaws.' Song Peilun is waiting for us to make a move and give them leverage."

Lu Cheng, fanning himself with a folding fan, strode outside.

"Since we're in the same profession, we have to follow the rules of the martial arts world."

"Open the middle gate to welcome guests."

Outside the martial arts school gate.

Four gleaming black Ford cars lined up in a row, forcibly pushing the people who couldn't get into the museum to the base of the wall.

The car door opened, and a dozen or so strong men dressed in dark blue Zhongshan suits stepped out.

These people had extremely stable lower bodies, bulging temples, and sharp eyes; they were clearly experts who had entered the realm of Ming Jin or even An Jin.

Surrounded by these people, a middle-aged man dressed in a dark gray, expensive silk robe, toying with two iron flasks in his hands, slowly walked out.

This man had a ruddy complexion, a mustache, and an imposing presence even without anger.

It was Chen Heting, the deputy director of the Jinling Martial Arts Academy.

Chen Heting was a legitimate official, and he practiced Eagle Claw Fist. In his early years, he was a well-known master of internal energy transformation in the south, and his own qi and blood had already been purified to the point of 30%.

"Director Chen, look at this place."

A servant with a side parting hairstyle pointed with disdain at the lowly people in tattered clothes who were peeking around at the entrance of the martial arts school.

"It's absolutely a mess."

"A bunch of rickshaw pullers and chamber pot shovelers dare to try and get their hands on traditional martial arts?"

"Lu Cheng has blatantly broken the ironclad rule that 'secret teachings must not be shared with six ears,' turning our refined martial arts world into a marketplace—it's an utter disgrace to our culture!"

Chen Heting twirled the iron bladder in his hand, making a "click-clack" sound.

"Young people, relying on a bit of talent and a lucky encounter, think they are invincible."

Chen Heting sneered, his eyes filled with an air of superiority.

"The leader of the martial arts alliance? That's nothing more than a game played by those old fogies in the north, a game they entertain themselves behind closed doors."

"Without the official title from Jinling and the recognition from the National Martial Arts Academy, Lu Cheng is at best a local tyrant who incites trouble."

"Today I have been ordered to go north to properly 'test' his mettle as the 'shining light of Chinese martial arts,' to see just how capable he really is."

Just then, with a creak, the heavy doors of the martial arts school swung open completely.

Lu Cheng, dressed in a gray-blue long robe and fanning himself with a folding fan, walked out unhurriedly, surrounded by Shunzi, Lu Feng, and Zhang Sanjia, who was covered in sweat.

"I heard that distinguished guests have arrived in Nanjing."

Lu Cheng stood on the steps, looking down at Chen Heting, his voice clear and melodious, without a trace of fear or respect.

"My humble martial arts school has just opened and I haven't even boiled a drop of water yet. I wonder what brings you, Master Chen, with such a grand entourage?"

""

Chen Heting frowned.

He had assumed that Lu Cheng, upon seeing a high-ranking official like himself, would at least greet him respectfully, if not bow and scrape.

Unexpectedly, the other party was standing on the steps, without even saying "please," as if watching a monkey show.

"You're Lu Cheng?"

Chen Heting suppressed his anger, stopped wielding the iron gall bladder, and spoke in an official tone.

"Master Lu's 'feats' in Tianjin have also been heard of in Nanjing."

"The higher-ups are eager to recognize your talent and, considering how hard-earned your skills are, have specially ordered me, the head of the academy, to come and announce your appointment."

After he finished speaking, his attendants immediately brought out a gold-embossed mahogany tray with a letter of appointment and a pure gold badge on it.

"The National Martial Arts Academy has decided to appoint Lu Cheng as the Chief Instructor of National Martial Arts in North China" and award him the Gold Medal for First-Class National Martial Arts Instructor.

""

Chen Heting looked up, waiting for Lu Cheng to express his gratitude with tears in his eyes.

This is a perfectly legitimate official position!

In this chaotic world, with this skin, warlords dared not act rashly, and even foreigners had to give them some face.

This is an honor that many martial arts masters would beg and plead for but could not obtain.

However, Lu Cheng didn't even glance at the tray.

"The head instructor of martial arts in North China?"

Lu Cheng smiled knowingly and tapped his folding fan lightly in his hand.

"That title sounds pretty impressive."

"However, Mr. Lu is a rough fellow from the opera world and doesn't understand the rules of officialdom. Director Chen might as well be frank: what price will Mr. Lu have to pay for taking this appointment?"

Chen Heting's face stiffened, and he snorted coldly.

"Since Master Lu is so straightforward, I won't beat around the bush either."

"The rules of the National Martial Arts Academy are as follows: First, the book 'True Explanation of National Martial Arts' that you compiled in conjunction with various schools in the north must be handed over in its entirety to Nanjing for unified safekeeping and printing. It must not be circulated among the people privately."

"Secondly, this martial arts school will be incorporated into the North China branch of the National Martial Arts Academy, effective immediately. The daily operations, including student recruitment, teaching, and management, will be handled by the instructor team I brought. Master Lu, as the head instructor, will only need to be nominally in charge and receive an official stipend."

"third----"

Chen Heting glanced at the common people with disgust.

"National martial arts are a national treasure; how can they be passed on to such commoners?"

"Starting today, the martial arts school will raise its entry requirements and will only accept elite students from families with a clean reputation and solid background."

"Get rid of all these peasants!"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding crowd of onlookers and the apprentices in the martial arts school immediately erupted in uproar.

"Why? This is Grandmaster Lu's martial arts school. Why can you take it all away with just a word?"

"You officials have no shame after you've shattered our hopes?"

The crowd was furious, and Shunzi and Lu Feng were so angry that they were about to draw their knives, but Zhang Sanjia held them down firmly.

"Shut up, all of you."

A master of internal energy behind Chen Heting suddenly took a step forward and stomped his foot on the bluestone slab, which shattered instantly.

The oppressive aura of peak internal energy spread out, frightening ordinary people into retreating.

Chen Heting looked at Lu Cheng smugly.

"Master Lu, this is the order from above. A martial arts contest to gain amnesty and fame is your best way out."

"If you refuse a polite offer, you'll face the consequences. With charges of 'inciting disorder and privately teaching forbidden techniques,' your newly opened martial arts school will be shut down today!"

See the picture poorly.

This is no reward, it's blatant robbery!

Under the guise of accepting amnesty, they stole the secret manual of "The True Explanation of Chinese Martial Arts," stripped Lu Cheng of his real power, and severed the roots of martial arts learning for the common people.

A series of combined attacks, extremely insidious.

on the steps.

Lu Cheng did not fly into a rage; he didn't even lose his composure in the slightest.

He lowered his head, glanced at the gleaming gold medal, and then at Chen Heting's calculating face.

Suddenly, he smiled.

The laughter was clear and resonant, yet it carried a deep compassion for those who viewed the world as frogs in a well.

"Director Chen."

Lu Cheng unfolded his folding fan with a whoosh, revealing four large characters on its surface.

A gentle breeze is blowing.

"You came all the way from Nanjing just to tell me these 'rules'?"

"Ask these hundreds of ordinary people behind me, ask this folding fan in my hand—do they agree to your rules?"

Chen Heting's face turned ashen as he gritted his teeth and said.

"Lu Cheng, how dare you disobey orders?!"

"Disobeying orders?"

Lu Cheng shook his head and slowly walked down the steps, his gray-blue robe fluttering slightly in the morning breeze.

"In our martial arts world, there has always been a rule."

"Might makes right. Whoever has the strongest fist sets the rules."

He walked up to Chen Heting, the two of them no more than three feet apart.

Lu Cheng didn't release any external qi, but the half-step Dan-embracing aura that seemed to merge with heaven and earth made Chen Heting and the other experts of dark force feel a suffocating feeling as if they were facing an abyss.

"You keep saying you represent the National Martial Arts Academy, and that you've come to 'test' my abilities, Mr. Lu."

"it is good."

Lu Cheng turned around and pointed his folding fan towards the spacious training ground inside the martial arts hall.

"This martial arts school just opened today, and we're really looking for a celebratory opening ceremony."

"I'll give you a chance to test me."

"You, and these imperial guards behind you."

Lu Cheng's tone remained calm, like that of a schoolteacher.

"Let's all come at him together."

"As long as you can make me, Lu Cheng, move my feet even half a step, or force me to use even a little bit of my internal energy."

"I, Lu, offer up the position of Chief Instructor of North China with both hands, and I also offer up the 'True Explanation of Chinese Martial Arts' with both hands."

boom!

Upon hearing this, both the inspection team from Nanjing and the local people were stunned.

All at once? Without even using internal energy or qi? Without moving an inch?

This is practically rubbing the face of the Jinling Martial Arts Academy in the ground, and then spitting on it after rubbing it.

"Extremely arrogant, utterly courting death!"

Chen Heting was so angry that he trembled all over. He was a master of the Transformation Realm, and had traveled all over the country for decades. He had never been looked down upon like this before.

"Since Master Lu wants to establish his authority in public, then my Jinling Martial Arts Academy will grant your wish."

Chen Heting waved his hand.

"Instructor Liu, Instructor Zhao, Instructor Li!"

"exist!"

Behind him, three middle-aged men with vigorous blood and energy stepped forward in unison.

Of these three, one practiced Eagle Claw Iron Shirt, one practiced Tongbei Fist, and the other practiced Baguazhang.

They are all genuine late-stage masters of internal strength; outside, they would all be grandmasters capable of opening their own martial arts schools and taking on disciples.

"Go, give our Chief Instructor Lu a good 'stretch'!"

Chen Heting took a half step back, his eyes cold.

He didn't believe that even a Grandmaster of Transformation Force couldn't withstand the combined attack of three experts of Dark Force without using internal energy or moving even half a step.

These individuals, in particular, are skilled in combat techniques and killing methods, making them extremely strong in actual combat.

"yes!"

The three agreed simultaneously, their eyes flashing with murderous intent, and followed Lu Cheng into the training ground.

Inside the martial arts school, hundreds of students and ordinary people flooded in like a tide, completely surrounding the training ground.

Zhang Sanjia stood at the front of the crowd with his arms crossed, a hint of amusement flashing in his cloudy old eyes.

"Old man, can Master manage without using internal energy or moving a step?" Lu Feng asked nervously.

Zhang Sanjia sneered.

"You don't know anything. Your master is using these idiots' heads to teach you a lesson!"

Right in the center of the training ground.

Lu Cheng casually tucked the folding fan into his lower back, stood with his feet neither too far apart nor too far apart, and let his hands hang naturally at his sides.

He looked at the three martial arts instructors who surrounded him in a triangular formation, his eyes as clear as two pools of water.

The exquisite mind sees that the five aggregates are all empty.

The breathing, heartbeat, and muscle texture of these three people.

Even the path of burgeoning inner strength, under Lu Cheng's half-step Dan-embracing divine perception, was as slow as a frozen slideshow.

"Master Lu, please forgive me!"

Instructor Liu, who trained in Eagle Claw Iron Shirt techniques, was the first to launch an attack.

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