Republic of China era: A hundred-year-old still practicing martial arts? Is that right?

When Lin Ji rushed back to the Tongmenghui stronghold, it was already dawn.

I just pushed open the courtyard gate.

They saw Zhao Qiaosheng and a few others guarding the courtyard, talking with their heads down, their faces all showing solemnity.

Lin Ji came in.

Zhao Qiaosheng immediately came forward, his voice tinged with urgency:

"Old man, you're back now? How's it going in the north of the city? The epidemic is quite serious; it spread to the west of the city last night, and the situation isn't looking good."

Lin Ji didn't explain further, but took out a vial of medicine from his pocket and handed it to Zhao Qiaosheng:

"We need to find someone to crack these drugs; whether we can find a solution to the epidemic depends on this."

"Have you found the source of the plague?" Zhao Qiaosheng took the bottles of viscous injections containing various colored liquids, his voice slightly excited, and he glanced sideways at the side room.

As it was getting dark, Lin Ji didn't see his subtle movements clearly and nodded slowly.

"Found him. It's that Japanese guy, a master of internal energy who combines the alien blood potion with poison skills. Li Shuwen came to Jiangcheng specifically to catch him."

Lin Ji finished speaking.

"A master of internal energy transformation?" The courtyard fell silent instantly. Everyone was stunned. Zhao Qiaosheng looked at the potion in his hand and said softly:

"Did you get these items from him?"

Lin Ji nodded slowly.

Everyone gasped in shock.

While others had never seen a master of the Transformation Realm, Zhao Qiaosheng had a considerable understanding of it.

The difference between hidden strength and neutral strength is like heaven and earth.

Lin Zhang is only at the late stage of Dark Force, how could he snatch this thing from someone at the Transformation Force level?

Zhang Shihao, who had been standing in the corner of the courtyard, approached at some point, glanced at the syringe in Zhao Qiaosheng's hand, and spoke in a hoarse voice, as if he hadn't slept for days:

"Where is he? Dead? Or did he escape?"

Lin Ji glanced sideways at Zhang Shih-hao, whose lips were chapped and eyes were dull, without offering much explanation:

"Dead!"

Everyone raised their eyebrows, their eyes filled with varying degrees of shock.

Zhao Qiaosheng was the same; he opened his mouth, but after a long while, he finally spoke:

"Dead...dead? You killed him?"

"It's good that he's dead, thank you Uncle Lin." Zhang Shih-hao didn't react much, cupped his hands in greeting, and turned to walk back to the corner.

Lin Ji didn't say much, just nodded in response, then turned to look at Zhao Qiaosheng:

"Brother Zhao, please decipher these medical potions as soon as possible. I'll go find Li Shuwen and see if he has any solutions."

Lin Ji was about to leave when, as if remembering something, he paused and continued to ask:

"Where's Old Zhang? How's Wang Erniang? I haven't heard her cough."

"Cough cough... cough cough cough!"

Wang Erniang coughed as if in response to Lin Ji.

Inside the side room.

A violent, heart-wrenching cough erupted from within.

The coughing was punctuated by a faint sob from the man.

Lin Ji's expression changed slightly. He quickly walked towards the side room, pushed open the door, and entered.

The door opened.

A strong, putrid stench wafted over.

The room was dimly lit.

Wang Erniang lay on the bed, her once robust body now much thinner.

The skin on her wrists and neck, which were exposed outside her sleeves, had begun to fester and melt, and yellow pus had soaked through the bedding.

Zhang the butcher squatted by the bed, his hands tightly gripping Wang Erniang's melted hands, his body surging with energy into her body.

His eyes were bloodshot, and tears streamed down his cheeks, falling onto the bedside and the floor.

"Wife... hang in there, Old Lin is back... he'll definitely find a way..."

Zhang the butcher's voice trembled uncontrollably; all the fierceness he usually displayed when arguing with Wang Erniang was gone, replaced by panic and despair.

I heard the door open.

Wang Erniang struggled to open her eyes, which had become stuck together due to the melting of her skin.

She saw the old man at the door, her lips moved as if she wanted to speak.

But a tickling sensation came from my throat.

"Cough cough..."

She coughed up a mouthful of black blood, silencing her last words.

She had long since given up.

Since last night, her body has gradually stiffened, and her skin has begun to lose sensation. If it weren't for her useless husband constantly pouring that unidentifiable substance into her body, she would have been completely numb.

She left that chaotic Jiangcheng a long time ago.

Her gaze swept over everyone in the room, finally settling on Butcher Zhang's face.

"Old Zhang..."

Wang Erniang's voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

She barely managed to prop up her melted, unrecognizable hand and reached out to Zhang the butcher's cheek.

His hand was only halfway up.

I suddenly lost all my strength.

"Bang!"

Her melted hand slammed heavily against the edge of the bed and then drooped down abruptly.

She barely managed to open her sticky eyes, still half-open as she looked at Butcher Zhang.

The last glimmer of light inside gradually went out.

"Woman!!"

Zhang the butcher let out a heart-wrenching cry, and disregarding the stickiness on Wang Erniang's body, he threw himself on her, his shoulders trembling violently.

This burly man, who usually slaughters pigs without batting an eye, was now crying like a child.

A large number of people gathered inside and outside the house, all with tears in their eyes.

Wang Erniang had only been with the Tongmenghui for a few days.

She has a fiery personality and can be quite sharp-tongued, but she always has a warm heart.

During these days, she took over the cooking for everyone, preparing a variety of dishes for them.

Yesterday, even though he was seriously ill, he still forced himself to cook one last lunch for his brothers.

"You Japanese dogs... I curse your ancestors for eighteen generations!"

Butcher Zhang suddenly stood up, grabbed the cleaver from the corner of the wall, his eyes bloodshot.

"I, Zhang Laosan, swear to God that I will not be a human being if I do not slaughter all the Japanese dogs in this lifetime! I will make you pay for your blood debts!"

His voice was hoarse as he raised his hand and slammed the knife against the door frame, sending sparks flying.

The brothers of the Tongmenghui clenched their fists, their eyes filled with grief, indignation, and hatred.

"A blood debt must be repaid with blood! Slaughter all the Japanese dogs!"

The crowd's low growls echoed through the room, their anger suppressed.

Lin Ji stood at the door, his heart heavy.

So many shops have opened in Dog Tail Alley; he's watched this couple grow from teenagers to middle-aged.

If only we could kill Temurin faster.

So many people wouldn't have died in Jiangcheng.

Lin Ji didn't linger, patting Zhao Qiaosheng on the shoulder:

"I'm going to find Li Shuwen; there are still people in the city waiting to be rescued."

He turned and walked out of the courtyard. Just as he turned the corner, he saw a burly figure leaning against the wall, holding a large iron spear in his arms. It was Li Shuwen.

Lin Ji glanced at it.

Li Shuwen still exuded the same imposing aura, but Lin Ji felt that something was slightly off.

He activated his Qi Observation and Martial Arts Understanding, and saw that Li Shuwen's chest had become somewhat dark, the white light above his head had dimmed considerably, and black energy had wrapped around his shoulders and waist, indicating that he had suffered a serious injury.

"Are you injured?" Lin Ji stepped forward and asked.

Li Shuwen raised his eyes, the chill in them still intimidating:

"It's just a minor injury, nothing serious! Those two guys, one was reckless and the other was ruthless, it took a bit of effort to stab them both."

He paused, then looked at Lin Ji, his eyes now filled with a hint of inquiry.

"Did you go after Temurin last night?"