Martial arts immortality begins with upgrading buildings.

Hong Zhenbang walked to the open space in the courtyard.

"Wujiquan is the core martial art of our Wujiquan Society. It consists of eight forms. I will demonstrate it once for you to watch carefully."

He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his knees slightly bent, his waist and hips lowered, his whole body like an old pine tree rooted in the ground.

"First move, opening the mountain."

With his feet gripping the ground, knees thrusting up, waist and hips twisting, and back stretching, he channeled all his strength into a single burst of power and unleashed a powerful punch.

The fist whistled through the air, and a crisp "pop" was heard, like a firecracker exploding.

"Second move: Cut off the flow."

Hong Zhenbang crossed his palms and slashed horizontally.

The strong wind was like a knife, sweeping the leaves off the trees just a few feet away.

The hand seemed to fall like a guillotine, about to cut a person in half at the waist.

"The third move: Shatter the monument."

He sank his body and slammed his right elbow down, his entire back trembling like a spear, the force traveling from his feet all the way to his elbow.

Before his elbow even touched the ground, the blue bricks on the ground were cracked by the penetrating force from his foot.

Hong Zhenbang continued the drills.

Fourth move, fifth move, sixth move...

His movements were not fast, even somewhat slow, but every punch, every palm strike, and every elbow strike carried a heavy weight, as if he were dragging a thousand-pound boulder.

When he reached the final move, he abruptly withdrew his fist, focused his energy in his dantian, and exhaled a breath of stale air.

The breath shot out like an arrow, landing on the ground and raising a cloud of dust.

"Did you see it clearly?"

Hong Zhenbang turned to look at Chen Qing, his expression normal and his breathing steady, as if the fierce attack just now was nothing more than a normal stretch.

Chen Qing's throat was dry, and he nodded.

"Fist fighting isn't something you watch; it's something you practice."

Hong Zhenbang stepped aside. "You come here."

Chen Qing took a deep breath and walked to the center of the open space.

Following Hong Zhenbang's example, they slowly began to practice.

......

Drunken Immortal Pavilion in Ningjiang County.

Zuixianlou is the largest restaurant in the city, three stories high, with carved beams and painted rafters.

This afternoon, the entire restaurant was booked out. Two rows of burly men in black stood at the entrance, their waists bulging, and anyone with eyes could tell they were carrying weapons.

People in the surrounding shops watched from afar, whispering among themselves.

"Have you heard? The Yihe Gang and the Tongfu Gang are going to negotiate inside today."

"These two companies have been fighting tooth and nail over territory lately. I hope they don't start fighting here."

"These gangs have turned the county into a mess, and the government doesn't seem to care."

"Shh! Keep your voice down, are you looking for trouble?"

The restaurant has three floors, and this is the largest private room.

A round rosewood table, a purple clay tea set, and a painting of a tiger descending a mountain hanging on the wall.

The window was half-open, and the light that shone through fell on the table, making the tea soup gleam with an amber luster.

The Yihe Gang members had already arrived.

The gang leader, Qiu Xiaotian, sat in the second seat. He had a broad face, a wide mouth, thick eyebrows like knives, and a pair of fierce eyes.

He was tall and imposing; when he sat there, he was like an iron tower, making the chair creak.

An old man sat in the main seat on the right.

He was about sixty or seventy years old, with gray hair and beard, and a thin face, but he was in good spirits.

He was wearing a dark gray robe with wide sleeves, revealing a pair of well-defined hands covered in calluses, clearly the work of someone who had practiced martial arts for decades.

At this moment, the old man was resting with his eyes closed, holding a pair of iron balls in his hand, turning them around with a steady and powerful voice.

"Old Liu, when the Tongfu Gang arrives later, we'll have to rely on you to uphold justice."

Qiu Xiaotian said respectfully to the old man.

This man is named Liu Yuanzong, the most senior martial arts master in Ningjiang County.

He reached the level of "Transformation Realm" forty years ago, and his skills are unfathomable.

In the martial arts world, the name "Iron Hand Liu Yuanzong" commands respect from all.

He had long since retired from the affairs of the martial world, but the Yihe Gang had a past relationship with him, so Qiu Xiaotian personally visited him to persuade this powerful figure to come.

"Of course. Since I'm here, they should at least give me some face."

Liu Yuanzong opened his eyes, nodded slightly, and spoke in a calm tone.

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of footsteps came from downstairs, steady and powerful, neither hurried nor slow.

"The Tongfu Gang members have arrived."

The guard at the gate announced the news.

A man walked up the stairs.

She looked to be in her thirties, with a fair complexion and exquisitely beautiful features that were almost otherworldly. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, and her narrow eyes held a smile that was both ambiguous and indescribable, exuding both femininity and coldness.

He wore a moon-white long robe with dark patterns embroidered on the collar. The fabric was smooth as water, and a dark silk sash was tied around his waist. He walked silently, like a cat pacing around.

This man was Xie Wuji, the leader of the Tongfu Gang.

Two people followed behind him. One of them was refined and gentle, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and holding a folding fan in his hand. He walked with a leisurely pace, like a schoolteacher.

The other man was burly and had a face full of scars, with a knife scar running diagonally from his left eyebrow to his right cheek. His eyes were fierce like a wolf's.

The three of them went upstairs, and the air in the private room seemed to become a bit heavier.

"Thank you, Chief. I've heard so much about you. Please have a seat."

Qiu Xiaotian stood up and said with a forced smile.

"You're too kind, Chief Qiu."

Xie Wuji didn't even lift his eyelids. His gaze swept over Qiu Xiaotian and landed on Liu Yuanzong. He cupped his hands and said, "Junior Xie Wuji greets Elder Liu."

"Wuji, it's been years since I last saw you, and you've become even more composed."

Liu Yuanzong nodded slightly.

"You flatter me, Elder Liu."

Xie Wuji sat down without looking back, his slender fingers gently stroking the rim of his teacup. His voice was languid: "Chief Qiu, you've made such a big fuss, even Elder Liu has been alerted. It seems there's nothing for our two families to discuss."

"The reason we invited Chief Xie here today is naturally to discuss the matter of the Rice Warehouse Ferry Terminal."

Qiu Xiaotian put away his smile and said in a deep voice.

"Micang Ferry was conquered by my brothers from the Tongfu Gang. In the world of martial arts, might makes right, and everyone relies on their own abilities. What, Chief Qiu, are you not satisfied?"

Xie Wuji picked up his teacup, took a sip, and smiled softly as he smiled slightly.

"The rules of the game are: if you're willing to gamble, you have to accept the consequences."

Qiu Xiaotian remained expressionless and said coldly, "You seized the territory of the Yihe Gang, but I can simply send people to take it back."

"Send your men to fight, my Tongfu Gang will take them on. What's there to talk about?"

Xie Wuji put down his teacup and got up to leave.

"Wuji".

At this moment, Liu Yuanzong slowly spoke up: "Xiaotian told me that he wanted to send people to take it back. But a large-scale battle would result in many deaths, and the government would definitely intervene, which would not benefit either side."

"May I ask what advice you, Elder Liu, may I offer?"

Xie Wuji felt that what was said made sense, so he sat down again.

"I do have a suggestion."

Liu Yuanzong, his iron will shining through his eyes, calmly stroked his beard and said, "How about each of your families sends one person to a fistfight, and the loser withdraws from Micang Ferry? What do you say?"

"I will naturally give Elder Liu face, so I agree to this."

Xie Wuji pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Whether they use internal or external strength in their fights, the Tongfu Gang has many skilled fighters, making them no less formidable than the Yihe Gang.

"There's something else I need to tell you."

Qiu Xiaotian's eyes turned cold as he stared at Xie Wuji, saying slowly and deliberately, "In the battle of Micang Ferry, we lost one of our stewards, named Wang Kun. It was a fair competition, and his death would have been fine, but someone took advantage of our misfortune."

"Our people have investigated thoroughly. Wang Kun didn't die at Zhao Hai's hands, but at the hands of your newly appointed steward. Wang Kun was already seriously injured at the time, and that kid took advantage of his weakened state. Wasn't that a rather unethical thing to do?"

Xie Wuji lowered his eyes, his slender fingers tapping the table lightly, once, twice, unhurriedly.

Zhao Hai has already reported the matter in detail, and it is indeed as Qiu Xiaotian said.

However, Wang Kun's body had already been disposed of at that time.

It seems there's a traitor within our own group.

"The rules of the martial world dictate that a life for a life. Wang Kun has a younger brother named Wang Lie, who is also a martial arts master specializing in external strength. He wants to avenge his brother, and as the gang leader, I cannot stop him. Have your new steward come out and have him fight Wang Lie to the death, and this matter will be settled."

"I said in a cold voice."