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

1930 2 Month 10 Day.

The twelfth day of the first month of the Gengwu year in the lunar calendar.

As dawn broke through the thin mist, the rosy clouds were splashed across the river, turning the surging waters into a warm gold. The shimmering waves meandered along the river, unfolding into a magnificent scroll of mountains and rivers.

"Waaah—"

A long, drawn-out whistle from a small steamship pierced the morning mist.

The sound of "whooshing" echoed across the river, startling a flock of lone geese in the reeds into flight. Their white feathers swept across the morning glow, leaving behind several graceful arcs.

Chen Feng stood with his hands behind his back at the bow of the boat, his blue robe fluttering slightly in the river breeze, his eyes taking in the magnificent view of the vast river before him.

On the river, an old fisherman poles his awning boat, and several cormorants plunge into the water, leaping out with plump fish in their beaks moments later. On the riverbank, a young fisherman casts his net, which spreads out in a smooth arc in the air before falling heavily into the river, splashing up tiny droplets. Along the riverbank, patches of reeds sway gently in the wind, and among the yellow and green reeds, yellow bitterns are building their nests, their claws weaving soft grasses into a secure nest.

The distant mountains are shrouded in mist, and the nearby waters are full of affection!

The beautiful landscapes of the Jiangnan region are all within sight. The river breeze carries the scent of water and grass, gradually calming the restlessness in one's heart and leaving only a sense of tranquility.

After a while.

Looking at the scene before him, Chen Feng's mind was filled with memories of the great battle at Mishidu.

The water rat has been executed. Once this matter is settled, he will immediately return to his sect.

Although they didn't get any information about the father from the rescued laborers, they weren't completely without any information.

Most of these people were river workers who had previously worked on the river channel. They personally confirmed that a large number of river workers had indeed joined the bandit gang to make a living; some even mentioned that many river workers were put on pig boats.

Just as he was pondering his next move.

"Brother Chen!"

A respectful, soft call came from behind. Wang Xiaoer walked very quietly to Chen Feng's side, bowed respectfully, and said, "Breakfast is ready. Everyone is waiting in the dining room!"

Chen Feng slowly turned around, his brows furrowed with a seasoned composure. He nodded slightly, his voice steady and powerful: "Let's go. We've eaten; we still have work to do today!"

In the time it takes to burn half an incense stick.

In the small steamship's restaurant, the clatter of bowls and chopsticks gradually subsided.

The group sat around a wooden table in the cabin, with warm morning tea beside them. Steam rose gently, and the group used the aroma of the tea to discuss important matters.

Hu Tao spoke first, her fingertips lightly tapping the table, her tone solemn: "This trip to the Phoenix Mountain North Ferry Wharf is not only for the ransom transaction, but also for a crucial conversation!"

Hu Mingxuan, standing to the side, picked up his teacup, tilted his head back, and gulped down a mouthful of scalding tea. As he put the cup down, his brow furrowed slightly. "After we ransom them, we must sit down and have a serious talk with the two bandit leaders. Otherwise, the supply of medicinal herbs to Shanghai might be completely cut off!"

Wang Xiaoer quickly nodded in agreement, adding, "We can barely manage in the first half of the year, but with the martial arts tournament in the second half, martial artists from all over will gather, and all external injury medicines will become extremely scarce. If the waterways are blocked again, the consequences will be unimaginable!"

Chen Feng sat in the main seat, silently listening to everyone's words, his fingertips lightly stroking the teacup. He thought to himself, "A martial arts tournament can cause such a shortage of medicinal herbs. If war breaks out one day and there are wounded everywhere, won't we be left with no medicine available?"

At this thought, a deep sense of worry flashed across his eyes.

Tang Tang, twirling her slender fingers in the corner, muttered softly, her voice tinged with lingering fear: "My father told me that Huang Jinrong, the Green Gang leader in the French Concession, loved kidnapping wealthy businessmen for ransom. There was almost a case every other day, and... and I heard that nearly 30% of those kidnapped were killed by him!"

Upon hearing this, Hu Sanzhen simply smiled faintly, his expression composed: "These two bandit leaders are considered to have a sense of loyalty in the underworld, unlike the scoundrels like Huang Jinrong. They wouldn't do something as despicable as killing someone!"

Upon hearing this, everyone turned their gaze to him, their eyes filled with inquiry.

Hu Sanzhen calmly picked up his pipe, took out tinder, lit it, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled a wisp of smoke. He then began to talk about the two notorious bandit leaders in the Songjiang waters.

People in the martial arts world all have nicknames. These two bandit leaders are called "A-Si" and "Pig".

The leader, Ah Si, used to make a living through folk beliefs in the Pinghu and Jinshan areas. He would sing folk songs, invite gods, and perform repentance rituals. He could also earn half a piece of rice by writing letters for others. He was a wandering scholar.

The second-in-command, Zhu Luo, was from Pinghu, Zhejiang. In his early years, he worked as a pig butcher. He had tremendous strength and was known for his loyalty.

The two men met by chance, formed a gang, robbed weapons, and established a faction, all under the banner of robbing the rich to help the poor. Now they have over a thousand brothers and more than a hundred boats of various sizes, and they roam freely in the waters of Jinshan, Pinghu, Songjiang, Qingpu, Jiashan, and Jiaxing in Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces. No one dares to provoke them easily.

After saying that, Hu Sanzhen looked at Chen Feng meaningfully, twirled his pipe halfway between his fingers, and slowly uttered a crucial sentence: "Both of you are martial artists at the mid-stage of Ming Jin!"

The voice just fell.

The ship jolted violently, followed by an even louder blast of its horn.

"Waaaaahh ...

The small steamer had already crossed the boundary between the north and south wharves of Phoenix Mountain, and the faint outline of the north ferry wharf of Phoenix Mountain could be seen in the distance, indicating that the destination was within reach.

Just then.

"Thump—"

A deep and resonant Zen bell suddenly rang out from the top of Phoenix Mountain.

"Thump—thump—"

The sound of the bell pierced through the morning mist, echoed across the river, and its lingering sound made people's eardrums tremble slightly.

Everyone came to the ship's side and subconsciously looked up at the towering cliffs of Phoenix Mountain. Amidst the swirling clouds and mist, the upturned eaves and corners were faintly visible. The vermilion beams and pillars and the gilded roof of the Mahavira Hall shone brightly and dimly in the morning sun, hidden among the green mountains and cliffs, exuding a solemn yet eerie atmosphere.

Er Gou pointed to the hazy ancient temple atop the cliff and lowered his voice, saying, "That's the most famous temple in Songjiang County, the 'Imperial-Built Cihang Zen Temple,' but the locals never call it by its official name. Behind its back, they call it—the Blood Bodhisattva Temple!"

Just now.

With his keen sense of smell, Er Gou suddenly covered his nose, his nose twitched slightly, and his eyes widened instantly as he abruptly turned his head to look towards the path on the side of the mountain.

At the foot of the mountain, there was a huge stone pool, surrounded by pilgrims of all ages, men, women and children, packed together to the brim.

One by one, they stood on tiptoe, craning their necks to look at the edge of the pool, their eyes filled with curiosity, awe, and a touch of numbness.

Suddenly.

A piercing bleat of a sheep broke through the noise of the crowd—"Baa—!"

next moment.

A strong, muscular man stepped out from the crowd, clutching a gleaming knife in his right hand and tightly leading a jet-black goat with his left, and strode to the edge of the pool.

The man remained expressionless, pressing the goat's head firmly with his left hand, holding the black goat's neck against the edge of the pool. With a swift thrust and slash of his short knife, the blade cleanly pierced the goat's neck, tearing open a bloody gash. Blood gushed out instantly, the warm goat's blood flowing continuously down the edge of the pool into the water below, turning the clear water a deep crimson.

The black goat twitched its limbs a few times and then stopped breathing. The pilgrims around it just watched quietly. Some whispered among themselves, while others clasped their hands together and prayed silently. No one stepped forward to stop it, as if such a scene was commonplace.

Chen Feng frowned slightly as he looked at the scene before him. In these years of extreme scarcity, every grain of rice and every bite of food was precious. Yet someone was wasting perfectly good sheep's blood, squandering it all in the pool. Such a waste of resources must have a hidden story!

Hu Sanzhen glanced at the scarlet in the pond, a knowing smile playing on his lips, and said calmly, "Do you remember? That pond is where I caught the red koi last time!"

These words were spoken.

Er Gou was instantly dumbfounded, staring wide-eyed at Hu Sanzhen, his voice filled with disbelief: "You...you actually went fishing in the release pond?!"