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

Bai Xiaonian was taken aback, then scratched his head sheepishly: "It was too fast, I didn't see it clearly."

Upon hearing this, Lin Ji chuckled softly and didn't raise his hand to strike again. Instead, he flicked Bai Xiaonian's arm lightly with his finger.

"Bang!"

With a flick of his finger, the boy's entire arm went numb.

The boy winced in pain and jerked his arm, but then froze, looking down at his arm and instinctively stretching it.

Bai Xiaonian felt that when he raised and lowered his arm, there was no more stiffness in his joints, and his previously heavy shoulder was much more flexible than before.

The boy looked up at Lin Ji with surprise in his eyes.

He wanted to ask Lin Ji how he managed to put his arm back in place so easily, but the image of Lin Ji's flicking motion just now flashed through his mind.

That finger strike, seemingly gentle, was actually incredibly fast.

It subtly incorporates a hint of domineering and fierceness.

Bai Xiaonian raised an eyebrow; he had actually spotted the shadow of the Hanging Mountain Fist in that single movement.

"Hanging Mountain Fist?"

A smile appeared on Lin Ji's face as he stroked his stubble, his tone slightly teasing: "I thought you wouldn't understand."

"Grandpa Lin, how did you learn the Chuishan Fist? This is a martial arts school specialty..."

Bai Xiaonian paused halfway through his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he recalled Lin Ji standing by the training ground every day, broom in hand, watching.

Lin Ji didn't seem to care, his gaze drifting out the window to the lonely moon hanging high in the sky, his tone nonchalant:

"It's not your fault for not seeing that punch clearly before. If you could actually catch it with your naked eye, what kind of internal strength would that be?"

"Now that you've snapped your fingers, have you figured out what's going on?"

Bai Xiaonian carefully recalled Lin Ji's finger-flicking action and realized that Lin Ji had made other actions before flicking his fingers.

Before he snapped his fingers, Lin Ji's chest, which had been rising and falling smoothly, seemed to bulge slightly higher than before. Thinking of this, Bai Xiaonian pondered for a moment and carefully spoke:

"Does the fist follow the breath, and the breath follow the fist?"

Lin Ji nodded without turning around, and continued, "These are the basic principles of Chuishan Fist, and also the problem I pointed out to you last time. Although you have made some changes, your punches still lack power when they land."

Lin Ji paused slightly, turned his head, and saw Bai Xiaonian massaging his forearm joints. He continued:

"If you want to punch fast, you can't just stare at your fist; power comes from your bones."

"With your feet firmly planted, use your waist and hips to generate power, sink your energy into your dantian, and focus your strength on your fists. Your fists will naturally become incredibly fast."

Bai Xiaonian lowered his brows, a look of understanding yet confusion on his face.

"Go back and practice on the wooden stake. If you still can't figure it out, adjust your breathing first. Only throw a punch when your breathing is adjusted."

"It's too late, you should go back to your dorm."

Lin Ji didn't go into detail. In the path of martial arts, while talent and intelligence are not the only factors, they certainly account for eight-tenths. To make progress, one cannot rely entirely on the guidance of others.

"Then you should get some rest too."

Bai Xiaonian frowned, pondering the meaning behind Lin Ji's words, before pushing open the door and leaving under the moonlight.

Lin Ji then turned around, picked up the rough porcelain bowl of water on the table, and splashed the water in the bowl onto the middle-aged man who had just been knocked unconscious again.

"Splash!"

Water was poured on the man's face, and he slowly woke up. The pain tugged at his cheeks, making it difficult for him to open one eye.

"Want to die?"

Lin Ji coldly uttered two words.

The man grimaced and let out a painful "hiss," his voice trembling.

"What...what exactly do you want?"

Lin Ji stood with his hands behind his back, his tone devoid of any emotion:

"Want to die? It's simple. Tell me who sent you, and who the middleman was. Tell me all that, and I'll let you die a quick death."

The man grunted in pain, his brow furrowing as the relentless pain throbbed across his cheek. After a long silence, a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes:

"Fine! I'm not going to live today anyway!"

His cheeks were sunken and his skull was shattered; he would need Hua Tuo to survive.

He was still able to breathe at this point, entirely thanks to his strong bone-refining foundation.

Do you know about the Haijiao Gang's "Jufulou" restaurant?

"Go to the table on the far east side of the building, play three rounds, and lose one dollar each time. Someone will then contact you."

Lin Ji's expression changed. True to his word, he raised his hand and grabbed the man's neck.

A "crack" sound rang out, and the man's head tilted to the side; he was no longer breathing.

Grabbing the man by the collar, Lin Ji turned and went out. Under the moonlight, he climbed over the outer wall of the martial arts hall, casually threw the man's body onto a pile of junk two or three miles away from the hall, and then returned to the hall.

Sitting inside the house.

Lin Ji frowned and muttered to himself:

"Is it the Sea Dragon Gang again?"

"How come the old man and that woman Shen Jinluan have so many entanglements?"

Recalling Shen Jinluan's alluring appearance, Lin Ji subconsciously reached out and touched his still sore lower back. However, his face did not show any romantic reveries about the previous night; instead, it was filled with a deep, cold expression.

"Could it be that this woman said they were even, but then went back on her word?"

Lin Ji thought about it again and felt something was wrong. He had killed Ming Jin Zhou Hu with three punches right under her nose. Shen Jin Luan didn't seem that stupid.

"Let's go to the Sea Dragon Gang tomorrow and see what this woman is really thinking."

Lin Jiqiang suppressed his irritation.

He opened the cloth bag under the bed and took out a stack of yellowed, rough paper and a ceramic jar.

Lin Ji scanned the room and found two opposite corners, tied two thin hemp ropes, and hung the paper and pottery jars on them, one in front and one behind.

"The Ming Jin internal strength punches and kicks break through the air, the power is exposed, and the momentum is overwhelming."

"Hidden strength emphasizes concealment and power, allowing the force to penetrate the body and injure people through objects."

"...When a punch is delivered with concealed force, it can penetrate paper and injure objects. If one can achieve this without breaking the paper, but cracking the jar first, then one has mastered the art of concealed force."

Shen Jinluan's alluring voice lingered in Lin Ji's ears.

Last night, Lin Ji took the opportunity during their intimate moment to ask Shen Jinluan about the secrets of entering the realm of internal energy.

Shen Jinluan did not hide anything and revealed in detail how she stepped into the half-step Dark Force realm.

Raise your hand and throw a punch.

The internal energy burst forth, creating gusts of wind from the fist.

"Sizzle!"

The rough paper was torn in half.

The earthenware jar swayed slightly behind the paper.

Lin Ji lowered his brow.

He hung the papers up again, and then punched them again.

The powerful punches sent gusts of wind through the small house, causing it to shake violently.

The paper was torn to shreds, and the earthenware pot shook even more violently, but it still did not break.

Punch after punch.

At Lin Ji's feet lay a pile of torn paper scraps.

The internal force either dissipates upon contact with the paper, barely tearing it apart, or it is too concentrated, shattering the paper into dust.

Lin Ji's eyebrows almost stood up.

Under normal circumstances, with the support of his martial spirit, he could master any martial arts technique by practicing it diligently for half an hour.

For some reason, he couldn't calm down tonight.

Every time he was halfway through a punch, either Shen Jinluan's alluring eyes and captivating figure would appear in his mind, or the strife-mongers' confessions about the Sea Dragon Gang would flash through his mind.

Another punch was thrown.

A jumble of thoughts invaded Lin Ji's mind.

With a "whoosh," the paper was torn to pieces by the force of the punch, and the scraps of paper scattered all over the ground.

Lin Ji put away his fist, looked at the mess on the ground, and chuckled softly after a while.

When the mind is not in harmony, the energy in the fist cannot be concentrated.

"If this matter stays in my mind, practicing for another day will be a waste of time."

He didn't linger any longer, not even bothering to clean up the scraps of paper inside the room. He changed into a set of black clothes for nighttime travel, and under the cover of darkness, he circled around to the back wall of the martial arts hall and climbed out.

Under the moonlight.

Inside the martial arts hall, Gu Yanqiu, dressed in martial arts attire, was returning from his night patrol.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark figure dart out from the top of the wall. The figure moved swiftly, unlike the style of a martial arts student.

Gu Yanqiu's gaze immediately sharpened.

Jiangcheng is already in a precarious situation.

"Hiding his head and tail, acting furtively, he doesn't seem like a good person."

"I want to see just how turbulent Jiangcheng is right now, and see what these foreigners are thinking."

Gu Yanqiu remained silent, concealing his presence, and followed the shadowy figure as he scaled the wall and escaped.