Chinese martial arts: From being shot and killed by the armed police during a mountain search to bec

As the lesson came to a close, the soldiers lined up and saluted, their leather boots making a rhythmic, muffled sound as they clattered on the fine sand.

Chen Hongwu nodded, turned around and walked out of the training ground.

Hong Zhaolin strode over from the barracks, a smile on his face: "Master Chen, these kids are incredibly lucky to have you guide them today."

"Don't leave tonight. I'll ask the cooks to prepare extra dishes so we can have a couple of drinks."

Chen Hongwu waved his hand: "I appreciate Commander Hong's hospitality. But I have matters to attend to at home and cannot stay any longer. There will be plenty of time in the future, let's get together again next time."

Hong Zhaolin opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, and ultimately did not insist on keeping him.

He knew Chen Hongwu's temperament; this man spoke bluntly and meant what he said.

Since you've said you're leaving, forcing you to stay would be counterproductive.

He shook hands with Chen Hongwu: "Alright, Master Chen's word is law. Next time you come, I'll have those bastards each offer you a bowl of wine, let's see how you refuse then!"

Chen Hongwu smiled but didn't reply.

Hong Zhaolin turned and shouted towards the edge of the training field, "Old Jiang! Drive Master Chen back to Foshan, be careful on the road!"

Staff Officer Jiang was squatting next to the bar, cleaning his gun. Chen Hongwu had crumbled the old Mauser pistol into scrap metal, and he had taken a new one from the armory. The gun was shiny and the blued paint hadn't worn off yet.

Hearing Hong Zhaolin's shout, he stood up, tucked his gun back into his waistband, brushed the sand off his knees, and saluted Chen Hongwu: "Master Chen, please."

The military vehicle started up, the diesel engine sputtered, and a cloud of black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe as it drove off along the dirt road in the camp.

Staff Officer Jiang gripped the steering wheel, his back still ramrod straight, his gray-blue military uniform buttoned up meticulously.

The car drove out of the camp gate and onto the official road, where the fields on both sides shimmered with a golden light under the setting sun.

Staff Officer Jiang glanced at Chen Hongwu in the rearview mirror.

The car bumped along the potholed road, but he remained as steady as a rock.

"Master Chen, how did you develop such kung fu skills?"

Chen Hongwu did not answer.

Staff Officer Jiang didn't mind and continued, "Master Chen, how old are you? Are you twenty? To have such skill at such a young age, who is your master? Xingyi School? Or Bagua School?"

"He just practiced blindly." Chen Hongwu said four words indifferently.

Staff Officer Jiang, feeling awkward, remained silent for a moment before speaking again: "Master Chen, it's such a waste for you to be stuck in Guangdong with all your skills."

Foshan is a good place, but compared to Shanghai, it's still too small.

Shanghai was the largest city in the Far East, a place where foreign concessions converged, and where all kinds of powers, including Britain, France, Japan, Russia, Germany, the United States, and Italy, were present.

A master like you could go to Shanghai, and just by being a bodyguard and teaching boxing to all sorts of people, you could earn enough silver dollars a year to buy a building in the concession.

"If you're willing to go, I know some people in Shanghai who can introduce you."

Chen Hongwu turned his gaze away from the fields outside the car window and said calmly, "No need."

Two words, crisp and decisive, without the slightest room for maneuver.

Staff Officer Jiang glanced at him again in the rearview mirror, and seeing that he had no intention of continuing the conversation, he wisely shut his mouth.

The military vehicle entered the city gate of Foshan, and it was already getting dark.

The car slowly came to a stop in front of the Chen family residence. Chen Hongwu got out of the car, nodded to Staff Officer Jiang as a farewell.

Staff Officer Jiang saluted again, and the military vehicle turned around and drove away.

As soon as Chen Hongwu stepped over the threshold, the gatekeeper jogged up to him, bowed, and said in a low voice, "Young Master, the Master has been waiting for you in the main hall for a long time. He said he wants to see you as soon as you return, as he has important matters to discuss."

Chen Hongwu walked through the front yard, around the screen wall, and pushed open the door to the main hall.

Chen Huaijin was holding a cup of tea when he saw him come in. Without exchanging pleasantries, he picked up the visiting card from the table and handed it to him.

"Take a look at this."

Chen Hongwu took the invitation, opened it, and glanced at it.

Gold-stamped red paper, plain white inner pages, Chen Gongzhe's signature is neat and tidy.

After reading it, he closed the post and put it back on the table.

"I don't visit the Three Treasures Hall without a reason." Chen Hongwu sat down in the guest seat. "My only connection with Shanghai is the Green Gang."

Judging by the time, Zhao Jinshan's body should have been delivered to Huang Jinrong long ago.

This Chen Gongzhe is nothing more than a middleman found by Huang Jinrong to sound out my intentions on behalf of the Green Gang.

Chen Huaijin nodded slightly: "Just as I guessed. What do you think we should do? See him or not?"

Chen Hongwu picked up the tea that a servant had just brought, took a sip, and said unhurriedly, "Since he has come all the way from Shanghai to Foshan, sending invitations and claiming kinship, his manners are impeccable. It would make us seem petty not to see him. Let him come tomorrow."

---

The next day, just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM).

A black Ford car slowly drove up the cobblestone street and came to a stop in front of the Chen family mansion.

The car door opened, and two young men wearing gray cloth short jackets, black cloth belts around their waists, and cloth shoes with multi-layered soles got out. They moved nimbly and stood with their hands hanging down on either side of the car door after getting off.

Next to come down was a middle-aged man, around thirty years old, thin, wearing a dark blue silk shirt, with a pair of gold-rimmed round glasses perched on his nose, and carrying a brown leather bag in his hand.

His hair was neatly combed, and he had a short, trimmed mustache. He exuded the refined air of a scholar.

Chen Gongzhe was one of the founders of the Jingwu Gymnastics Association and the de facto leader of the association after Huo Yuanjia's death.

He was highly respected in Shanghai's martial arts circles, not only because of the Jingwu Gymnastics Association, but also because he was fair in his dealings, adept at social maneuvering, and had influence in both the legitimate and underworld circles.

When Du Yuesheng approached him, he agreed almost without hesitation.

On one side is the Green Gang, a powerful gang in the martial arts world, and on the other is a newly emerging master of Chinese martial arts. If no one mediates between them, this matter will inevitably cause a major upheaval sooner or later.

Privately speaking, the Green Gang wielded considerable influence in Shanghai. He was also part of that circle in Shanghai, and they would inevitably run into each other. Giving the Green Gang face and accepting this job wouldn't be a bad deal for him.

Chen Gongzhe straightened his collar, walked to the front of the house, and personally knocked on the door knocker.

The copper ring struck the wooden door with a crisp sound that carried far in the morning breeze.

There are rules to follow when making a personal visit: first, you must present your visiting card, and then you must knock on the door. You cannot get any of these steps out of order.

The doorman was already waiting. He opened the door, took the visiting card from Chen Gongzhe, and scurried into the main hall with a bow.

The three members of the Chen family, father and sons, were sitting in the main hall drinking tea. Chen Huaijin took the visiting card, glanced at it, placed it on the tea table, and stood up to straighten his long robe.

"Hongwen, come with me to greet the guests. Hongwu, you wait in the hall."

Chen Hongwen responded, put down the account book, and followed behind his father.

Chen Hongwu remained seated in the guest seat, holding a teacup, his expression calm, showing no intention of getting up.

Chen Huaijin walked to the gate of the house, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "Mr. Chen, it is an honor to have you here. Please forgive me for not welcoming you sooner!"

Chen Gongzhe quickly returned the greeting, bowing even lower than Chen Huaijin: "Master Chen, you are too kind! I apologize for any inconvenience caused by my visit."