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

Chen Feng frowned, his fingertips tapping the edge of the table repeatedly, the dull sound echoing in the cabin. He suddenly looked up at Er Gou beside him and said in a deep voice, "Brother! Tell me what I should do? How can I get rid of these water rats and clean house?"

Er Gou, a native of Songjiang waters, knew the ins and outs of the docks like the back of his hand. He immediately stepped forward, lowered his voice, and revealed his solution.

"Paying homage to the powerful!"

He paused, then quickly revealed the entire plan: "On the surface, we'll send a message in the name of Hu Qing Yu Tang, announcing that we'll be heading to the rice market to pay our respects at the wharf in four days, giving the Water Rat and the Green Gang a false impression; in reality, we'll launch a night raid tomorrow night, catching them completely off guard!"

Er Gou was well aware of the situation in the Songjiang waters—with Shui Haozi in charge of the docks and having eyes and ears on the water, he must have already noticed Chen Feng's entry into Songjiang and was certainly on guard day and night.

Releasing the false news of paying respects to the lords at this moment is not only a way to show weakness and lull the other side into a false sense of security, but also a smokescreen to make Shuihaozi mistakenly believe that Chen Feng and the others are going to ransom people first.

Er Gou's confidence in succeeding tomorrow night stemmed from the ironclad rule of the Songjiang canal transport: on the tenth day of the month, a large number of grain ships would return from Shanghai, carrying not grain, but corpses. There was a chilling saying in the underworld about this: "Living people sent to Shanghai, corpses transported to Songjiang!"

The Songjiang Wharf was a place where the Green Gang had been entrenched for many years, building a set of inhumane operating mechanisms that tied rice and human lives together to reap bloody profits; it can be called the darkest "human flesh distillation tower" in the Jianghuai canal transport.

In their eyes, people are not people at all, but only three kinds of consumables: young and middle-aged men around twenty years old are the most valuable "first-class bones", breastfeeding women are "second-class meat", and even ignorant children are called "third-class firewood".

I heard about this inside story.

Chen Feng felt as if he were in the chaotic world of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, never imagining that such a horrific tragedy was so close to him.

"Gurgle—"

Er Gou took a swig of water to moisten his throat and continued, "The Green Gang has strict rules. Whether it's loading rice and grain onto ships or the shady 'corpse processing,' everything must be personally overseen by the dock manager!"

He was certain that Shui Haozi, having just joined Huang Jinrong's cause, would not miss the opportunity to claim credit for the first job of the Year of the Horse! He would definitely finish this job and then make a quick getaway, leaving Chen Feng and his men, who came to pay their respects four days later, empty-handed!

"Great!" Chen Feng's eyes lit up. He was amazed by Er Gou's thorough understanding of the dock's inner workings and how precise and ruthless his plan was. He immediately decided, "Let's give him a proper visit!"

Scenes and lines from the classic Chinese novel "Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy" flashed through his mind, igniting his curiosity. He quickly pressed, "Er Gou, tell me, how exactly does this 'paying homage to the boss' take place?"

The voice just fell.

Leaning against the corner of the cabin, Hu Sanzhen smiled faintly, his expression languid yet concealing a subtle gravity. He advised himself, "It's best not to inquire; it'll only disgust you!"

Hu Mingxuan, standing to the side, was even more pale, his expression extremely grave, his voice low and strained: "It's best not to mention it! Don't mention it!"

The two's unusual behavior instantly piqued Tang Tang's curiosity. She tiptoed closer and urged, "The more you tell me not to tell, the more I want to hear! Er Gou, just tell us already!"

Seeing that Er Gou remained silent, Tang Tang grew impatient and shouted, "If you don't speak, I'll throw you down into the water to feed the fish right now!"

Er Gou waved his hand helplessly, his face ashen, and gritted his teeth as he said, "You forced me to say this..."

Pay homage to the lord!

In ordinary times, when people pay respects to their superiors, they simply prepare a sacrificial offering of pigs, cattle, and sheep. However, at the Rice Market Ferry in Songjiang, which is both the most prosperous and the darkest place, the rules are absolutely inhuman—humans are used instead of livestock!

The Green Gang used the bodies of debt-ridden farmers instead of pigs, skinning them and stretching them to make drums for canal boats, euphemistically calling it "a loud drum means smooth canal transport"; they used the shinbones of young men instead of cattle, breaking them and burning them to make dock nails, claiming "strong bone nails mean abundant goods"; they used the eyeballs of child laborers instead of sheep, gouging them out alive and inserting them into the seals of cargo boxes as lead seals, with the underworld saying "bright eyes of children, open passes".

Er Gou's voice trembled so badly that everyone in the cabin felt a chill run down their spines and their hair stood on end.

"But this is just the beginning!" He gasped for breath, then uttered even more terrifying words: "The ritual of worshiping the dock at Rice Market Ferry also includes a five-step torture code—blood smeared on the boat's pattern, bone scales used to verify sincerity, a marrow contract signed, the debt branded on descendants, and corpse oil burning eternally..."

Every word is tinged with a chilling, bloody stench.

Wang Xiaoer, slow-witted, asked in confusion, "What is 'corpse oil burning forever'?" He was completely unaware that the people around him had already turned ashen-faced.

Er Gou lowered his head, his fingers clenched tightly, his voice as soft as a ghost's whisper: "Use people as candles!"

The cabin fell silent the moment the words were spoken.

"Ugh—" Tang Tang could no longer hold back and bent over to vomit violently. Hu Tao also covered her mouth, her face as pale as paper. She vomited until her whole body was weak, and the two of them could hardly stand up.

"Ugh—" Wang Xiaoer and the crew members on the boat covered their mouths, their stomachs churning, vomiting violently, almost bringing up bile.

An indescribable, nauseating odor permeated the cabin, and everyone was terrified by these inhumane rules.

Chen Feng, however, remained expressionless and silent, yet the killing intent within his chest surged wildly like a tsunami.

His fingers clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white and cracking, every nerve ignited by extreme anger and violence—these Green Gang beasts were not worthy of being called human, skinning people, breaking bones, gouging out eyes, burning fat, and burning oil, committing heinous acts, this hatred was irreconcilable!

"Tomorrow night, I will raze Mishi Ferry to the ground. I will kill every single Green Gang scum, thug, manager, and scoundrel on the dock! I will use their blood to appease the innocent souls who were tortured to death!" Chen Feng's killing intent solidified into a blood-quenched blade.

He slowly rose and walked step by step to the side of the boat. The river wind lifted his blue robe, and the cold river water lapped against the hull, but it could not extinguish the raging fire burning in his eyes.

Chen Feng gazed at the surging waves beneath his feet, wanting to say nothing and ask nothing, only hoping that tomorrow night would come quickly.

……

The following night, dark clouds gathered.

"Waaah—"

A long, hoarse whistle pierced the night sky. On the rusty, surging river, the small steamboat exhaled its last plume of black smoke and slowly paddled towards the rice market ferry.

The river wind swirled mist into the cabin, and everyone was solemn before a great battle, except for Hu Sanzhen, who was drunk and snoring loudly.

After a while.

Chen Feng, who stood proudly at the bow of the ship, suddenly focused his gaze.

The hazy outline of the dock in the distance gradually became clear in the twilight. On the dock, a single fire flickered, standing alone in the night, looking from afar like a lit candle.

The small steamer drew closer and closer, and the view became clearer and clearer.

Chen Feng's pupils constricted sharply, and his killing intent surged to its peak, almost materializing and exploding—it wasn't wood, it wasn't an oil lamp, it wasn't any ordinary object, but something whose top had been forcibly chiseled open and lit...