Chinese martial arts: From human punching bags to martial arts mastery

As dawn broke, the Fan Gua Nong shantytown was still shrouded in damp mist, the air thick with the stench of poor people's stale food and the fishy smell of sewage ditches, making one's throat tighten.

"Tap tap tap—"

Chen Feng's figure moved through the winding, narrow alleyways. The sound of his cloth shoes rolling over the muddy road was gently enveloped by the morning mist, as light as an almost inaudible sigh.

He would stop and turn sideways from time to time, pressing himself against the shadow of the corner of the wall, vigilantly observing the movements behind him.

After turning at seven or eight intersections and repeatedly confirming that he was not being followed, he quickly turned into a secluded and deserted back alley.

The stinking ditch at the end of the alley emitted a nauseating stench. The blackish-green sewage was covered with thick foam, and excrement and various kinds of rotting garbage floated on it. The pungent smell hit you in the face.

Chen Feng frowned slightly, took out a pair of worn gloves from his pocket, put them on, bent down and lay down by the ditch, and put his arm directly into the cold, sticky sewage.

"Um!"

After groping around in the half-foot-thick layer of black mud for a while, my fingertips suddenly touched a hard, tattered burlap sack.

"Gurgle—"

He pulled hard, dragging the heavy package out of the mud.

The tattered sack was already soaked with sewage, and dirty water kept dripping down the seams of the cloth.

Chen Feng quickly untied the knots and unfolded the layers of jewelry. The cold glint of gold and silver jewels flashed in the dim light, making his eyes shine. The necklace, bracelet, and even the big gold tooth were all carefully wrapped in oiled paper. Even though they were covered with some mud, their preciousness was still undeniable.

At the very bottom of the package, Chen Feng found another valuable item: a rusty kitchen knife.

The blade was covered with dark red marks, and the edge still retained some sharpness. The strips of cloth wrapped around the handle had long since rotted and turned black, exuding a cold and fierce aura.

He stared at the cleaver in silence for a moment, his eyes complex and unreadable—this cleaver was something he had deliberately buried along with his other goods. In the midst of chaos and uncertainty, a sharp blade could always give one a sense of security and stability.

immediately.

Chen Feng wiped the mud off the blade with a clean rag, carefully tucked the knife into his waistband, and then wrapped the gold and silver jewelry again and stuffed it into his bag.

After dealing with these valuables, I washed my hands at a well in an empty alleyway and headed straight for the Shiliupu Wharf without delay.

After a while.

The Shiliupu Wharf was already bustling with noise and the river breeze carried a strong smell of fish, sweat, and coal smoke, which was pungent and made people choke.

This is a no-man's-land where the French Concession, the International Settlement, and the Chinese-controlled area meet. In the distance, barbed wire crisscrosses the area, but the figures of police officers are rarely seen. Only Mr. Du's henchmen from the Green Gang, dressed in tight-fitting clothes, wander back and forth around the dock, their eyes sharp as eagles, firmly controlling everything in this area.

Chen Feng found a stone step to sit on. The kitchen knife at his waist felt slightly cool through his clothes, keeping him highly alert.

He looked up and gazed at the myriad aspects of human life before him.

The porters were shirtless, their bronze skin glistening in the morning light. The heavy goods were tightly bound with thick hemp ropes, which dug deep into the grooves of their collarbones, like shackles attached to their bodies.

As they bent over and stood up, their lumbar spines emitted a faint groan of unbearable strain, and their trousers at the knees were already worn shiny and covered in dust and sweat.

Every step was taken with utmost care, requiring both steadiness of the load on one's shoulders and avoidance of potholes and muddy paths. Each bend and stretch felt like an overdraft of one's remaining life force.

Chen Feng's gaze fell on a young porter who was only fifteen or sixteen years old. The veins on the boy's forehead were throbbing, and the hundred-pound load on his shoulders made him hunch over. He staggered a few steps and almost fell.

"You little bastard, you don't want to live anymore! You've damaged the goods, I'll chop off your hands and feet!" The foreman next to him immediately raised his whip and shouted angrily.

After finally managing to carry the load, the boy trembled as he took a bamboo skewer, clutching it tightly in his palm as if it were a lifeline.

Chen Feng secretly inquired and learned that these workers had to carry a full thirteen tons of goods every day!

Their average lifespan was only thirty years. The meager wages they earned had to be deducted for the climbing tax, breathing tax, shift fees, and tea money for the foreman. In addition, there were protection fees and tributes to Mr. Du's men. In the end, they received less than half a silver dollar.

"A day's hard work earns half a silver dollar, which adds up to fifteen silver dollars a month. If you calculate it back to the days before I transmigrated, that's equivalent to a monthly salary of two thousand yuan!"

Chen Feng secretly calculated that his income in his previous life was almost the same as that of a laborer who risked his life for money in this chaotic world. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but sigh deeply, feeling a deep sense of melancholy.

"call--"

At the edge of the dock, the signboard of the opium den swayed weakly in the wind, and the faint sounds of smoke being exhaled and expelled could be heard from inside.

"Come in and play for a while!"

Not far away, at the entrance of a brothel, several heavily made-up women leaned against the door frame, coquettishly beckoning to passersby.

"Open, open, open—"

The gambling dens on the street corners are the most lively, with shouts, the clinking of dice, the cheers of winners and the wails of losers rising and falling.

Several porters who had just received their wages hesitated for a moment, but finally clutched their meager wages and went inside, their eyes filled with the hope of getting rich overnight.

Chen Feng recalled a story he had heard before—a porter won money here, and the next day his body floated downstream to the Huangpu River, the surface of which shimmered with a cold light, but no one dared to ask a question; there was also a lucky person who bet on "flower games", but was poisoned by a body-disposing drug, and his stomach was filled with dice after being cut open.

He instinctively pressed down on the kitchen knife at his waist; the rusty blade seemed to silently echo the coldness and cruelty of this chaotic world.

Just then.

Chen Feng saw a man in a long robe slowly walk into the stall at the dock; it was Mr. Du, who controlled this area.

When the other person's gaze swept over, Chen Feng immediately looked up into the distance. It was the Zhabei Public Security Bureau, 800 meters away. The outline of the office building was vaguely visible, and the police badge gleamed in the sunlight, but it couldn't penetrate the shadow of the Shiliupu Wharf.

The filth and suffering, the scheming and killing here seem to be isolated by this lawless area, becoming a bloody scar behind the glamorous facade of Shanghai's beachfront.

Chen Feng did not say anything.

He silently got up and walked towards a pawnshop with a gilded sign that read "Yuhe Pawnshop".

This pawnshop is notorious in the underground world—it's known as the "Human Pawnshop."

Anyone who has ever participated in underground boxing knows that gambling in many underground boxing rings involves human organs as stakes, with the winner being able to take the organs from the loser.

The pawnshop's wooden door was heavy and old, making a creaking, decaying sound when pushed open, like lifting the lid of a dusty coffin.

The counter was so high it almost touched the crossbeams. The shopkeeper wore a melon-shaped hat, and his eyes behind his glasses were icy cold. He glanced indifferently at the large gold tooth Chen Feng handed him, then casually tapped his finger on the counter: "Medium quality, worth at most five silver dollars!"

Chen Feng's heart tightened. This big gold tooth was made of pure gold and was worth at least eight dollars on the market.

He lowered his voice, his tone hoarse: "Shopkeeper, please take another look. This is top-quality stuff pulled from a living person!"

As he spoke, he pressed the kitchen knife at his waist, revealing a hint of coldness and hardness.

The accountant next to him suddenly looked up, his abacus snapping to a halt. His gaze swept over Chen Feng a few times before he slowly said, "This gentleman looks unfamiliar. In this area of ​​Shiliupu, it's rare to see someone dare to bring such valuable goods!"

Chen Feng subtly tightened his grip on the bundle, raising his voice eight octaves: "I'm from 'The Beast Cage,' here at the docks on business. I urgently need the money. Manager, are you investigating the origins of 'The Beast Cage's' assets?"

These words seemed to strike a nerve with the shopkeeper. His eyes behind his glasses flickered several times, the abacus clattering again, before he finally relented: "Seven dollars for Big Gold Tooth!"

Chen Feng didn't haggle any further. He knew it wasn't the right time to argue. He took the heavy seven silver dollars and stuffed them into the hidden pocket at his waist. He turned to leave, but the accountant suddenly called out to him, "Sir, please wait. I just noticed your cotton robe is dusty. Let me dust it off for you!" As he spoke, he reached out and his fingertips probed towards Chen Feng's bundle.

Chen Feng stepped aside, casually slung the bundle behind him, and laughed, "No need, business is more important!"

He strode out of the pawnshop and had just turned into the crowd at the dock when he clearly felt two malicious gazes fixed on his back.

The docks remained noisy, with the porters hunched over, clutching life-saving bamboo skewers in their hands, their faces weary yet wary of exploitation by the police and gangs.

Chen Feng mingled in the crowd, deliberately slowing his pace. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two men dressed in tight-fitting clothes with long knives at their waists following closely behind. They must be gang members sent by the pawnshop to keep watch.

He knew he couldn't go towards the Chinese-controlled area. Although the Zhabei Public Security Bureau was only 800 meters away, it had no jurisdiction over the filthy dealings in this no-man's-land. If he really got into trouble, he would just be treated like a fat sheep to be slaughtered.

In a moment of quick thinking, Chen Feng headed straight for the opium dens and gambling dens, where there were many people and frequent murders, making it the perfect place to escape.

The two men hesitated for a moment, but eventually followed, though their pace was noticeably slower.

As Chen Feng passed by the gambling den, he heard the crisp sound of dice hitting the ground and the heart-wrenching wails of the losers. A porter who had just received his wages rushed in with red eyes, probably about to throw away his half-dollar here for nothing, or even lose his life.

Just as Chen Feng crossed the street.

"Beep beep—"

A black Ford sped up, and inside sat a wealthy young lady in a pale white lace dress. Through the car window, one could vaguely see that her beautiful face was filled with righteous indignation.

"careful--"

To avoid the car, the crowd pushed and shoved to both sides like a tidal wave, and the scene instantly became chaotic.

By the time the two men who had been keeping watch caught up with Chen Feng in the alley, he had vanished without a trace. Enraged, they cursed on the spot, "Damn it, that kid got away!"

Before he could finish speaking...

With a sharp "sizzle," the cold blade suddenly slashed out from the corner, carrying the chilling glint of tetanus!

"Pfft—"

Chen Feng slashed open a man's neck with a single, powerful stroke, and blood gushed out instantly.

The other man was shocked at the sight and abruptly retreated, shouting sharply, "Boy! How dare you!"

As he spoke, he suddenly drew a three-foot-long knife from his waist, and relying on its length, he swung it and slashed.

As the saying goes, "When two armies meet on a narrow road, the brave shall prevail." Chen Feng understood that today, either he would kill his opponent, or he would be killed by his opponent!

So he also charged forward fiercely, brandishing his knife.

With a crisp clang, the two swords clashed violently, sparks flying everywhere. Taking advantage of the length of his sword, the opponent managed to knock both of their blades to the ground.

"Damn it! He's got a tough customer!" The man, relying on his height and strength, roared and threw a punch aimed at Chen Feng's chest: "Die!"

"Hey--"

Instead of retreating, Chen Feng advanced, forcefully pushing off the ground and instantly closing in on his opponent.

[Tongbeiquan - Support Hammer Beginner: 37/500]

He stepped forward, twisted his waist, straightened his back, and threw a punch. His movements were fluid and graceful. This time, with the support of his body technique, the Tongbei Fist Hammer was much more ruthless than before.

With his current strength, he could easily send the cleaver flying into the heart of the former Big Gold Tooth with just two or three punches.

Two loud "bangs" rang out simultaneously.

The man's fist slammed into Chen Feng's chest, but there was no crisp sound of the sternum collapsing as expected.

[Struck hard, Hard Qigong beginner level +1 (49/500)]

Chen Feng struck the man's throat with his hammer, and with a "crack," he shattered the man's Adam's apple.

"Well--"

The man clutched his neck tightly with both hands, his face contorted in pain, but he couldn't utter any cries for help, only muffled, hoarse breaths.

Just as he staggered and tried to escape, Chen Feng bent down, picked up the long knife from the ground, and with a flick of his wrist, the blade pierced flesh with a "thud," and his head fell to the ground.

After cleanly and efficiently severing the two tails, Chen Feng didn't dare to delay for a moment. He quickly searched the body and took more than a dozen copper coins. Then, he chopped off the head of the other man and threw them into the sewer.

He then casually walked back into the crowd at the dock, his expression calm as if nothing had happened.

After that, Chen Feng went to three pawnshops that were far apart, each time taking out only a few inconspicuous pieces of jewelry, being careful not to flaunt his wealth.

The first pawnshop tried to lower the price under the pretext of checking the condition of the goods, but Chen Feng coldly rebuffed them.

The owner of the second pawnshop squinted and scrutinized him repeatedly. He seemed to catch a lingering stench of sewer water on him. His eyes held a hint of disdain. He ran his fingers over the jewelry for a moment, then lowered his voice and quoted a price.

Chen Feng didn't haggle; he took the money and put it away quickly and discreetly.

He knew all too well that in this chaotic world, keeping one's wealth hidden was the key to survival, but even so, countless people still couldn't escape the schemes lurking in the shadows.

At the third pawnshop, the clerk discreetly handed him a cigarette, glancing repeatedly towards the back room, implying that there was "free opium" to try. Chen Feng pretended not to see it, touched the kitchen knife at his waist, took the money, and turned to leave.

As he walked out of the pawnshop, his back was already soaked with cold sweat. He sighed to himself, "Alas! A century has passed, and Zhabei has become Northern Myanmar!"

He was well aware of the insidious ways of the pawnshop, using free opium to lure customers into smoking it. When they were out of their minds, they would sign bloody debt contracts such as "eaten by insects and bitten by rats," "bare board without hair," and "oil exhausted and lamp extinguished," which were so cruel that they would devour people without spitting out the bones.

In this world, once you get your hands on something "free," you're doomed!

The three rounds of pawning were completed.

Chen Feng had over a hundred silver dollars tucked heavily in his pocket. His fingertips touched the coldness of the silver coins, but he dared not relax his vigilance for a moment.

He took out a few copper coins from his pocket, pressed the kitchen knife at his waist, went to a general store and bought two bundles of lampwick. Then he mingled into the bustling crowd and his figure quickly disappeared into the noise of the dock.

Behind them, the porters continued their arduous, repetitive labor, day after day; the shouts and yells from the gambling dens never ceased; the gears of fate ultimately spared no one.

"Waaah—"

The wind on the Suzhou River upstream grew stronger, and the ships on the river sounded their deep whistles.

The Huangpu River flows emptily downstream, carrying with it countless sorrows and vicissitudes of this chaotic world...