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

As soon as Lin Ji stepped into the courtyard, Bai Yu'er, her face pale, came to greet him and pointed to the woodshed:

"A man covered in blood just barged in. Xiao Nian tried to stop him, but he knocked her down in an instant. Luckily, she wasn't hurt."

Lin Ji raised an eyebrow and looked towards the woodshed, when Bai Xiaonian's voice rang in his ears:

"He crashed through the door and fell to the ground; we didn't dare touch him."

Lin Ji casually handed the cloth bag in his hand to Bai Yu'er and walked straight towards the woodshed without stopping.

As soon as I pushed open the door, a strong stench of blood hit me.

A man lay stiffly on the cold ground, his dark blue robe stained black with blood.

The man had a narrow, thin frame with broad shoulders, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses stained with blood on his square face. He was of ordinary appearance and would be easily overlooked in a crowd.

Lin Ji stood at the door of the woodshed, looking at the bloodstains on the man's body, and the three gunshots at the alley entrance flashed through his mind.

Anything involving foreigners is a recipe for disaster; getting involved with them is a death sentence. Men are a huge problem.

Why not call the police now, take him away, and completely sever ties?

Lin Ji lifted his foot and took half a step forward.

The man on the ground's eyes twitched suddenly, and a chilling, knife-like killing intent exploded from his body.

Lin Ji abruptly stopped in his tracks, a chill running through him.

This murderous aura was even more intense than Zhou Hu's at his peak.

Even if this person is half-dead, his strength is definitely no less than Zhou Hu's.

Thoughts raced through his mind. Lin Ji's back hunched slightly, and he became the same ordinary old man he always was. He stretched out his withered hand and spoke in a trembling voice:

"Sir...you're awake? How are you feeling? Can you still move? Why don't you come and rest in the old man's room?"

The man slowly opened his eyes, and even through the blood-stained lenses, Lin Ji could clearly see that hawk-like gaze.

The man's gaze swept over Lin Ji's wrinkled old face, then fell on the Bai siblings who were huddled at the doorway, and the murderous intent in his eyes gradually subsided.

He propped himself up on his arms and sat up, but the force pulled at his chest wound, causing a sharp pain. He groaned, and after a long while, his voice was hoarse as he said:

"Thank you for taking me in, sir."

"I hope you and your companions will completely forget about what happened to me, Zhao. Otherwise, if word gets out, you may suffer innocent trouble."

Lin Ji nodded, still maintaining the old man's trembling posture:

"Don't worry, our whole family didn't see anything. Old man, go get you a bowl of water."

……

in the afternoon.

Lin Ji carried a bag of rice out the door.

Buying rice was a pretense; gathering information was the real purpose.

With a "plague god" sitting in his house, Lin Ji was quite uneasy.

We had just entered the city.

Lin Ji then noticed that the pedestrians on the street were all walking quickly with their heads down.

His expression was even more anxious than in the morning.

Several uniformed police officers were posting wanted posters on the walls along the street.

Lin Ji squeezed his way up and took a look; his pupils suddenly contracted.

The man pictured on the wanted poster had a square face, a mustache, and round-framed glasses perched on his nose.

The wanted poster read in large characters: "The thug Zhao Qiaosheng yesterday brazenly attacked the British Legion, murdering Ambassador Smith and two of his entourage. His crimes are heinous. Anyone providing valid clues about this man will be rewarded with five hundred silver dollars; anyone who captures him alive or kills him will be rewarded with one thousand silver dollars."

Passersby gathered together, whispering among themselves, their voices a mixture of secret excitement and complaints about their peaceful lives being disrupted.

"What thug? I think he's a tough guy!"

"Men? Can men fill your stomach? The moment the foreigners spoke, the whole city went into martial law. Today we can't even work. My three little girls are going to starve!"

……

Lin Ji pulled down his tattered straw hat, covering most of his face, and turned to walk back.

Does calling someone a thug on an arrest warrant automatically make them a thug?

He single-handedly attacked and killed foreigners, making him an "anti-foreign" martial artist. How could he be a thug?

Lin Ji lowered his eyes and suddenly guessed:

Could it be related to the arms ban?

When he got home, Zhao Qiaosheng was already able to walk.

Upon seeing Lin Ji return, he hurriedly came out of the courtyard to greet him: "Thank you, sir. How is the situation outside?"

Lin Ji's expression was no different from that of an ordinary citizen; he looked uneasy as he carefully closed the courtyard gate.

"You killed a foreigner? Now the whole city is plastered with wanted posters for you."

Zhao Qiaosheng raised an eyebrow, then nodded emphatically:

"Smith was the most zealous foreign envoy in the mission to push for the arms ban. He made a deal with those traitors that as long as the arms ban was signed, the government would get a loan of 100 million, as well as the latest foreign guns, cannons, and heavy firearms."

"These people are trying to sever the roots of our nation!"

Zhao Qiaosheng slammed his hand on the courtyard wall, gritted his teeth, and continued:

"If these short-sighted people were to actually sign the arms ban, in a decade or so, no one in the entire country would dare to stand up and say 'no' to foreigners anymore!"

"Won't the foreigners' powerful ships and cannons just sail in at will?"

Lin Ji remained silent.

He lived for a hundred years.

He witnessed firsthand how foreigners used their powerful ships and cannons to force open the gates of the Qing Dynasty, and how they forced the Qing to sign one humiliating treaty after another.

The backbone of the Chinese people was crushed under the hegemony of the Manchu Qing Dynasty!

Over the past few decades, countless martyrs have sacrificed their lives to rekindle the spirit of the Chinese people.

With this ban on weapons, all the sacrifices and efforts will once again be in vain.

"I can't stay any longer. The foreigners are searching more and more closely, and if I stay any longer, I'll definitely be a burden to you."

Zhao Qiaosheng pulled out ten silver dollars from his still-damp, blood-stained long gown and stuffed them into Lin Ji's hand: "Take this money; it should be enough for you to eat for three months."

Withdrawing his arm, Zhao Qiaosheng clasped his hands in a respectful bow: "Junior Zhao Qiaosheng thanks you again, sir. If anyone asks, just say you've never seen me before. Don't let anyone discover a single clue; foreigners are a thousand times, a hundred times, more ruthless than we think!"

The voice just fell.

Zhao Qiaosheng leaped up, stepped onto the wall, and disappeared into the eaves with astonishing speed.

Lin Ji weighed the silver dollar in his hand and looked at the gloomy sky.

The leaden-gray clouds hung low.

This world.

Things are about to change again!

into the night.

Lin Ji summoned the Bai siblings to the main room, his expression solemn:

"Pretend that what happened today never happened. No matter who asks, say you don't know anything."

Bai Xiaonian and Bai Yu'er nodded vigorously, their faces filled with solemnity.

They also knew that harboring serious criminals would lead to their demise if the truth came out.

The next day, Lin Ji got up just as dawn was breaking.

A stove was set up in the courtyard.

A handful of dry firewood was stuffed into the stove, sending up a series of crackling sparks.

These days, being able to cook a pot of thick, thick mixed grain porridge is considered the best food for an ordinary family.

Taking advantage of the smoky aroma from the wok, Lin Ji stuck a few cornbread buns along the edge of the pot and called out to the side room:

"Dinner's ready."

……

At the dilapidated low table, Lin Ji took a sip of the gruel from his rough porcelain bowl, then broke off a piece of cornbread: "Today is the preliminary battle for the ban on weapons."

"Grandpa Lin, shall we go see it?" Bai Xiaonian's eyes shone with hope.

She glanced at Bai Xiaonian's empty porridge bowl and said, "Go watch! Bai Xiaonian, go too."

"Okay!" Bai Xiaonian clenched his fist.

Lin Ji stood up and looked out the window at the golden sunlight that was breaking through the clouds and shining down.

He wanted to see with his own eyes whether this "ban on weapons" hanging over the heads of the Chinese people could actually break their backs!