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

On the second day of the second lunar month, the dragon raises its head, the granaries are full, and the small granaries overflow.

A folk saying goes, "Get a haircut on the second day of the second lunar month, and you'll have energy all year round!"

At the entrance of the alley in the Zhabei shantytown, an old-fashioned barber's carrying pole is set up at the alley entrance, with a gleaming copper basin and a razor sharpened to a cold gleam.

As dawn broke, the line of people waiting to get their heads shave stretched several times, with men of all ages humming local Shanghai folk tunes. The lively atmosphere, carried on the crisp early spring breeze, filled the narrow alleyways.

However, just as the lively atmosphere of the alleyway began to spread, a chilling atmosphere was already rising over the Suzhou River—by the old garbage bridge, a storm was brewing, and the undercurrents were surging!

Look around.

The entire river surface had been cleared in advance, and all ships, large and small, had retreated more than a hundred feet away. The river wind whipped up waves that crashed against the riverbank, producing a dull roar.

In the middle of the river.

A giant platform, ten zhang high, stands majestically, constructed entirely of hardwood, firmly anchored on a hidden reef in the middle of the river. Whether on the left or right bank of the river, or from the high-rise buildings on both sides and the rooftops in the distance, every movement on the platform can be clearly seen.

The high platform is surrounded by a spiral staircase carved with dragons and phoenixes, its body vermilion and gilded, with dragon patterns coiling around it.

At this moment, the drums and gongs on the stage resounded, the erhu played a stirring tune, and the actors, dressed in dragon robes and wearing golden crowns, sang a Dragon King opera excerpt, praying for smooth water and a bountiful harvest. The singing voice pierced through the river wind and spread to both banks. This was the Dragon King opera of today, a ritual to worship the river and pray for rain and favorable weather.

Outside the platform and on the riverbank, the area was already packed with people, making it impossible to move.

The crowd was packed shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, old and young, men and women, so crowded that it was hard to even turn around. Everyone craned their necks, stood on tiptoe, and stared intently at the high platform in the middle of the river.

People were discussing it animatedly, their spittle flying everywhere.

Everyone knows that this Dragon King show is just an appetizer!

Once the play is over, what will happen next is a life-or-death martial arts duel that will shake the entire city of Shanghai—a real fight with real swords and fists, where victory and defeat will be decided, and life and death will be decided!

On this day, not only ordinary people gathered to watch the spectacle at the old garbage bridge, but also celebrities and masters from both the underworld and legitimate society of Shanghai.

Ah Si and Zhu Luo, from Wusong Wharf, disguised themselves as porters in their tattered cotton-padded coats, blending into the crowd. They had to keep their eyes on the people around them while also glancing at the center of the river.

A hundred feet away, in the secluded cabin of a small boat, Dali and his daughter pressed themselves tightly against the window crack. The old man and the young girl held their breath, staring at the arena of life and death. Their palms were covered in cold sweat, and they silently prayed for safety, their hearts filled with anxiety and anticipation.

On the stone steps by the riverbank with a good view, Hu Tao and Xiao A Qiao stood side by side, with Hu Mingxuan, Wang Xiaoer, and Hu Sanzhen beside them. They were surrounded by Hu Qingyutang's trusted confidants, all with solemn expressions, staring intently at the river.

Suddenly, a commotion arose in the crowd, and a petite figure squeezed through the throng—it was Tang Tang. Fine beads of sweat glistened on her forehead; she had clearly exerted considerable effort to slip out. Patting her chest, she exclaimed excitedly, "I climbed out the window! I have to go back right after I finish watching this fight!"

The Dragon King opera on stage was gradually coming to an end, with the gongs and drums fading and the singing ceasing.

Just then, the roar of an engine came from behind.

Immediately afterwards, three black Ford sedans drove straight through the crowd and came to a steady stop in the center of the garbage bridge dock!

Before the car doors even opened, seven or eight hundred Green Gang thugs dressed in black tight-fitting clothes and black belts surged out like a tide. Each of them had a cold and stern face and was holding long knives and short sticks to clear a path. Like a black iron plow, they pushed and beat the crowded people to both sides.

In the blink of an eye, a wide passage leading directly to the riverbank was cleared.

The door of the first car opened, and Teng Heijiu, a veteran of the Martial Arts Federation, slowly stepped out.

This man was nearly sixty years old, with a burly build like an iron tower, broad shoulders and a thick back, large knuckles on his hands, and a faint bluish-black tinge to his knuckles. He was renowned in the martial arts world for his powerful Eagle Claw Kung Fu.

He is known in the underworld as "Iron Claw Black Nine".

Today, he has been entrusted by various forces in the martial arts world to come here specifically to preside over this highly anticipated life-or-death battle!

The second car was driven by Du Yuesheng.

Dressed in a dark long gown, with a refined face but eyes as deep as a cold pool, he exudes an aura of authority that commands respect without anger. He is one of the true giants of Shanghai's underworld!

The third car pulled up, and Zhang Xiaolin stepped out. His face was full of menacing features, his aura fierce, and his short-sleeved outfit exuded a menacing presence. He crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping across the river like a knife, but his bloodshot eyes clearly indicated his growing impatience.

Before the crowd had calmed down, another deafening sound of footsteps echoed from the west bank of the river!

Three or four hundred burly men dressed in short gray cloth jackets and with short sticks at their waists marched in formation like dark clouds pressing down on the city. Their steps were neat and their aura was imposing. The people along the way were so frightened that they all gave way and no one dared to block their way.

In the center of the group, a tall, thin middle-aged man with a face like an eagle walked slowly, his eyes were sinister and his aura was fierce.

It was none other than Master Gu, the Jiangbei tycoon who controlled the Green Gang's Jiangbei territory and held a large share of Shanghai's land and water transport capacity!

His personal visit was not only to support Du Yuesheng and Zhang Xiaolin, but also to witness Chen Feng's death and completely remove the biggest obstacle on the Jiangbei front.

Master Gu walked to Du and Zhang's side and stopped, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. The three of them stood side by side, instantly creating a suffocating atmosphere in the center of the dock!

The crowd took a closer look and immediately erupted into hushed whispers.

"Even the Jiangbei tycoon, Master Gu, has arrived! This entourage is going to turn Shanghai upside down!"

"What happened?! Only two of the three tycoons showed up? Where's Huang Jinrong?"

"Are you stupid?! After the City God Temple explosion, the three tycoons were already at odds, each harboring their own ulterior motives!"

A few people in the know are well aware that although the water rats were beheaded, the rice market was burned down, and the Songjiang wharf was destroyed, the enmity is irreconcilable.

However, Huang Jinrong suppressed his anger and refused to leave his room—because the Municipal Council threatened him with the safety of the concession and ordered him not to interfere in the private fights of the underworld today.

Huang Jinrong, fearing the consequences, secretly dispatched a large number of his disciples to mingle in the crowd, waiting for both sides to be exhausted before striking to reap the benefits—killing two birds with one stone.

Du Yuesheng harbored a deep-seated hatred for Chen Feng—who had repeatedly thwarted his plans and severely wounded his trusted lieutenant, the Smiling Tiger. Today, he was determined to fight to the death against his most valued and beloved general, Qian Hu. He had come specifically to witness Chen Feng's demise on the river-side platform!

Behind Du Yuesheng stood six core members of the Little Eight-Share Gang, including Ma Pi, the warlord guarding the Shiliupu Wharf, with a fierce expression and sinister eyes.

The only things missing are the injured Smiling Tiger and the Octopus!

Du Yuesheng walked slowly to Qian Hu, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a calm but authoritative tone, "Fight well, don't disappoint me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he glanced sideways at Ma Pi out of the corner of his eye.

Ma Pi instantly understood, silently approaching Qian Hu, pulling a miniature syringe from his sleeve, and swiftly inserting it into Qian Hu's palm. His lips moved slightly, uttering only four chilling words: "Just in case!"

Qian Hu stroked the icy-cold mini syringe, his eyes flashing with murderous intent, and said, each word distinct and forceful, "Chen Feng! Today, you will die!"

Just then—a violent commotion suddenly erupted on the opposite bank of the river!

Four or five hundred elite members of the Axe Gang, wielding short axes and exuding menacing aura, charged towards the best vantage point like tigers descending a mountain. Their movements were incredibly swift, using their short axes to force back any bystanders.

In a short while, a large, neat open space was cleared out, the atmosphere was gloomy and filled with murderous intent.

A man slowly stepped out from the crowd—Wang Jiuye, the leader of the Axe Gang!

He was tall and upright, wearing a blue short jacket and a leather belt. His face was resolute and his eyes were piercing. Although he came from a literary background, he had the imposing aura of a martial arts master. He was a pillar of the Hongkou faction in Shanghai.

He stood across the river, cupping his fists in a gesture of respect to Du Yuesheng, Zhang Xiaolin, and Master Gu, his movements steady and his aura undiminished.

Upon seeing this, people on both sides of the strait were all astonished: "Even Master Wang Jiu has come in person! This life-or-death battle has truly shaken the entire Shanghai!"

Zhang Xiaolin, unable to contain himself any longer, slapped his thigh and shouted coldly, "That brat surnamed Chen! Is he afraid of us and cowers in fear?"