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

Chapter 55 The Traitor of the Alliance

"Boom—"

A sudden clap of thunder echoed across the sky.

Lightning tore through the night sky.

The light fell on the ground, illuminating the outlines of the low houses on both sides of the street.

Yu Guang saw the number plate with black background and white characters on the wooden door frame clearly.

No. 16, Tongfuli, Tonghe Road.

"Tonghe Road, Tongfuli No. 16." The black lettering on a white background disappeared into the darkness in Lin Ji's eyes. He raised his hand and gently pushed the wooden door, which was unlocked.

"Snap!"

Golden light flashed again on the horizon.

Lin Ji raised his hand and pushed open the door, stepping into the courtyard with the help of the thunder.

A drop of rain brushed past Lin Ji's ear and landed on the bluestone outside the door.

"Snap—"

The dampness surged from the ground, masking the sweltering heat of Jiangcheng in July.

Lin Ji looked up.

The courtyard is small, consisting of three sections within a single entrance.

Behind the paper window of the main room, the dim yellow light flickered, vaguely reflecting two blurry figures.

"Crack!"

Lightning flashed and shone into the courtyard.

"Slap! Slap! Slap..."

Raindrops pounded down, landing on the bluestone ground, the sound of rain spreading outwards, weaving a fine curtain of rain in the air.

Lin Ji quickly walked to the window, where the eaves shielded him from the torrential rain.

"Alright, as you say, three hundred silver dollars it is."

"Sir, you are indeed a scholar; your words are truly eloquent."

Inside the window, the faint clanging of metal could be heard, followed by a hearty laugh.

"Haha, three hundred silver dollars is just right. Sir, you will get what you want at Yutong Warehouse on Wenhui Road in Beicheng in an hour."

"Alright, I'll take my leave now."

……

As the voice faded inside, rustling sounds began to emanate.

Lin Ji glanced into the courtyard and leaped into the shadows beside the west-side house.

"squeak--"

The wooden door made a rattling sound when it was turned.

A figure in a long robe strode out of the courtyard, holding an oil-paper umbrella.

"Crack!"

Lightning flashed again.

The reflection shows human figures and faces.

A pair of round-framed glasses sat on his anxious, round face.

"This is...this is one of the ways we rescued Zhao Qiaosheng that day?"

Lin Ji narrowed his eyes and lowered his gaze.

"Became a lackey of foreigners? Secretly betrayed Zhao Qiaosheng and his group?"

The man hurriedly pushed open the door and went out.

Lin Ji emerged from the shadows and, using the sound of the rain, made his way back to the door of the main room. Just as he was about to pull the latch, a noise came from inside.

"Haha, Mr. Gao, that was a brilliant move."

A voice with a foreign accent came from inside the house.

"If I'm not mistaken, in your China, this is called... 'luring the enemy into a trap,' right?"

"Mr. Charlie's arrangements were excellent. He had already laid a trap at Tongyu Warehouse. This time, his allies will surely not return!"

"Hahaha!"

……

"The Tongmenghui?"

"Is Zhao Qiaosheng and his group affiliated with the Tongmenghui (Revolutionary Alliance)?"

Lin Ji looked on in surprise and doubt outside the window. Jiangcheng newspapers had published information about the Tongmenghui for three consecutive months, repeatedly stating that the Tongmenghui was deliberately sabotaging diplomatic relations and that its crimes were heinous.

To discerning people, the Tongmenghui was not, as the newspapers claimed, a group of ambitious young people who aimed to save the nation from suffering.

"Boom!"

Golden light rose again.

The shadows of people outside the window are reflected on the window paper.

"who!"

"who?"

"Your grandfather!"

The window rattled.

Lin Ji broke in through the window.

Lei Guang outlined Lin Ji's features, his white hair flowing, like a god of war descending to earth.

"ah--"

"Um!"

Two figures, one on the left and one on the right, were captured by Lin Ji in the blink of an eye and held in mid-air.

The two shook him violently and raised their hands to punch Lin Ji's arm.

The wind blew in through the broken window, almost extinguishing the oil lamp.

In the dim light, the short, stout figure inside the room could be seen to make out Lin Ji's profile.

Instantly! His pupils contracted sharply.

"You...you are the old gatekeeper of the martial arts hall."

"Hmm! You recognize your grandfather?"

Lin Ji's hand tightened suddenly as he recognized the man as Gao San, the middleman.

The short, fat man who was being pinched was a high school senior who could only make a "hoarse" sound in his throat and could not produce a complete sound.

The foreigner noticed that the senior student next to him had turned deathly pale, his face filled with panic.

"Old sir, we're complete strangers, we have no grudge against each other. I'll give you money, I'll give you piles and piles of money, just spare my life!"

"OK."

"And you?"

Lin Ji glanced at the senior class.

Upon hearing this, a glimmer of hope flashed in the eyes of the senior student, and her struggle lessened somewhat. She managed to squeeze out the words, "I have money too."

Lin Ji grinned: "Paying money to save one's life is a matter of course, no matter how much."

"Three...three hundred, no, three thousand!" The senior student struggled to pronounce it, his gaze first falling on the black cloth bag on the table, then quickly averting his eyes.

Lin Ji narrowed his eyes and his face darkened: "You little rascal! Three thousand yuan can't buy your life."

"I……"

The senior high school student squeezed out another word from his throat, only to feel a tightness in his throat, a "crack" sound in his ears, a pause in the air he inhaled through his nose, and a look of horror freezing in his eyes.

"Clatter".

Lin Ji released his right hand, and the senior's corpse fell to the ground like mud. His horrified eyes met Charlie's gaze as Charlie swayed and struggled with his head down.

Charlie was pale, and a foul stench emanated from his lower body.

Lin Ji frowned slightly, and suddenly increased the force in his hand.

"I have... money!"

The foreigner's voice stopped abruptly, freezing on the word "money".

Lin Ji tossed it aside.

By the light of the lamp that had not yet been blown out, Lin Ji opened the thread-bound booklet on the table, which contained all the transaction records of the senior year of high school.

Lin Ji searched the room for a while, but found nothing except the three hundred silver dollars on the table.

As Lin Ji packed up the money bag and accounts, a glint of gold flashed in his eyes, and thunder roared in the sky.

"We have to go save him."

"Without patriots like the Tongmenghui, the prosperity of China is a distant dream. We cannot let them die in the schemes of foreigners."

"Besides, Brother Zhao is an old acquaintance of this old man."

"Splash!"

Lin Ji climbed out of the window and, in the night rain, headed towards the north of the city.

The scholar surnamed Wang held an oil-paper umbrella, the rain soaking the hem of his long robe, his shoes splashing as they waded across the water on the street.

An incandescent light bulb hangs on the door of a small warehouse on the street.

The four large red characters on the iron gate were reflected in the sunlight.

Tongyu Warehouse

"This is it."

The scholar stepped forward and gently pushed the storeroom door. The door was unlocked and was pushed open from the side with a "clatter".

The scholar folded his umbrella and stepped inside.

"Clatter!"

Inside the silent cabin, the sound of mechanical switches suddenly rang out.

A thick lamp shone on the scholar's face, the stark white light making it impossible for him to open his eyes.

The scholar raised his hand to shield his eyes and vaguely saw a figure sitting casually on a wooden bench in the center of the warehouse outside the lamplight.

Black combat trousers, tall combat boots, and a dark green standard shirt.

"Foreigners!"

The scholar was greatly alarmed.

"Bang!"

The warehouse door behind him slammed shut.

The scholar turned around, and several thin figures dressed in slovenly clothes emerged from the darkness, along with a foreigner in a green shirt and black combat trousers.

The scholar's face darkened.

Damn it, I've been sold?

The details of the previous transaction flashed through his mind, and he realized then that something was wrong with the high school senior.

The scholar narrowed his eyes slightly, and with a "whoosh," he opened the hand that was covering the searchlight, and took the initiative to attack.

He swung a straight punch, aiming straight for the thug's face.

"Shameless scoundrel, selling out your country for personal gain, do you have any respect for the land that nurtured you?"

The bone-refining fist landed, making the thug dizzy and his cheek crack.

The scholar swung his umbrella, sweeping it across several thugs who rushed at him from behind, forcing them back. He then threw a punch at one of the thugs.

"You act like lackeys of foreigners, throwing punches at your own compatriots. Do you even consider yourselves human?"

The scholar could not get close to them with his fists and umbrella, and more than a dozen thugs were beaten to the ground one after another.

"Clap clap clap!"

Applause rang out behind the scholar.

"Impressive martial arts skills."

"I'm tired of seeing East Asian women dancing, but now I find men boxing quite enjoyable."

"Once the martial arts ban is issued, we can train a group of boxers who only practice the moves but don't know any internal strength, just for performances. Wouldn't that be just what we want?"

"Disgusting!" The scholar gasped for breath, his umbrella snapped, and his body covered in bruises collapsed to the ground, unable to get up.

The scholar gripped the umbrella tightly, glaring at the foreigners before him, his words ringing out: "You occupy my Chinese land, you insult my nation's martial arts, and you dare to spout such nonsense here!"

"Splash!"

The searchlight moved, its light shining on his face.

The foreigners watching from the sidelines, with their hands clasped in respect, saw the scholar's disheveled appearance and completely ignored his resounding words, their tone dripping with mockery:

"Mr. Wang, please don't be so angry."

"We're just playing a cat-and-mouse game with you."

"What's wrong? The little mouse is getting impatient so quickly?"

The scholar lowered his eyes, glared angrily, gritted his teeth, and coldly shouted, taking the initiative to step forward:

"Give me your life!"

"Hmph!" The foreigner assumed a boxing stance, his half-exposed side, exposed to the cold light of the searchlight, was as cold as frost.

"Bang!"

The two fists collided.

The force of the punches was fierce.

The scholar's expression froze, and he stumbled backward.

The foreigner's eyes were cold, a chilling murderous intent flashing in them, and he stomped his leather shoes on the ground.

The second punch landed.