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

The next morning, just as dawn broke.

The mist had not yet dissipated, and morning dew clung to the tips of the bamboo leaves, filling the courtyard with the scent of grass and earth.

Chen Huaijin, dressed neatly, pushed open the door to the main hall and was about to head to the accounting room in the front yard to check the accounts for the month.

Just as they turned the corner of the moon gate, they saw two servants carrying a door panel out from the direction of Chen Hongwu's courtyard.

A gray cloth covered the door panel, revealing half of an arm wrapped in a black night suit, which gleamed with a dark red luster in the morning light.

A trace of dried blood still clung to the edge of the door panel, trickling down the seam and leaving a broken red line on the blue brick floor.

Chen Huaijin's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly stepped forward: "What is it?"

The two servants immediately stopped in their tracks. One of them bowed and said, "Reporting to the master, it was the eldest young master who ordered that it be carried to the mass grave in the west of the city and buried there, the farther the better."

Chen Huaijin lifted a corner of the gray cloth, revealing a dead face with typical Japanese features. The face was ashen, with dark purple scabs at the corners of the mouth. A palm-shaped dent was sunken in the chest, and broken ribs protruded from under the black clothes, with dried blood still clinging to the white bone fragments.

Chen Huaijin put down the gray cloth, his expression slightly somber, and turned to walk towards Chen Hongwu's courtyard.

Passing through the moon gate and around the cracked blue brick wall, he immediately saw Chen Hongwu practicing his martial arts in the center of the courtyard.

The morning light streamed down from the eaves, casting a long shadow on him.

Chen Hongwu's breathing was steady and long, his back straight as a spear, and his whole being exuded an unwavering calmness.

The bamboo stalks at my feet were swaying wildly in the night wind, and the bloodstains at the base of the wall had not yet been cleaned. Several servants were squatting there busily working.

Chen Huaijin quickly walked to his side and asked in a low voice, "What happened? The servants said you ordered the corpse to be carried out early this morning?"

Chen Hongwu did not stop his attack; he remained standing there, his gaze fixed straight ahead, and said in a calm tone, "Last night, a Japanese ninja sneaked into the courtyard, and I killed him."

"Japanese ninja?" Chen Huaijin's brows furrowed, and his voice rose slightly. "Are you injured?"

"It's alright." Chen Hongwu put away the stakes and turned around. "They sneaked in at midnight, carrying a few hidden weapons. Their skills aren't bad, but they couldn't hurt me. It's all taken care of now, Father, don't worry."

"No need to worry?" Chen Huaijin's voice rose, and he paced back and forth in the courtyard with his hands behind his back before abruptly stopping. "These Japanese devils! They lose in the ring and then send assassins to scale the walls and break into our homes. They'll use any underhanded trick!"

He grew increasingly agitated as he spoke, his jaw clenched tightly. After a moment, he forced himself to calm down. "No, we need to send more men. We don't have enough guards at home. We were safe and secure living in Foshan Town before, but things are different now. I'll go and find a few skilled fighters to take turns on duty day and night—"

"Father," Chen Hongwu interrupted him, "there's no need to waste this money."

Chen Huaijin turned to look at him.

Chen Hongwu walked to the stone platform by the wall, picked up the kunai that had fallen to the ground, and weighed it in his hand: "The Japanese are reluctant to send out assassins of this caliber easily."

One person died last night, and no one else will be coming anytime soon.

Moreover, their main target is me. No matter how many guards are stationed outside the compound, they can't stop the ninjas from scaling the walls.

Chen Huaijin opened his mouth, but was speechless for a moment.

Chen Hongwu was telling the truth. The guards in the manor were good at guarding the gate and dealing with a few thugs, but if they really encountered a well-trained ninja like the one from last night, they wouldn't even be able to stop him, let alone see him before their throats were slit.

He paused for a moment, then said, "So what do you suggest we do? We can't live in constant fear every night."

Chen Hongwu put the bitter knife back on the stone platform: "Have the Guangdong army send some people over. Hong Zhaolin owes me a favor, so he won't refuse this small favor."

At most, it would mean attending one or two more classes at the military camp; consider it an exchange.

Chen Huaijin pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded.

Having Guangdong soldiers stationed at the mansion is far more reliable than hiring a few江湖 (jianghu) bodyguards. At least they have enough firepower to protect the people in the mansion.

"Alright, I'll write a letter later and send someone to the military camp to ask Commander Hong for a few men." He turned and took two steps, then turned back to look at Chen Hongwu. "Be careful."

"understood."

After leaving the courtyard, Chen Huaijin went straight back to the main hall and changed into a clean gray cloth long gown.

He wielded his brush and immediately wrote a letter, ordering his servants to deliver it to the military camp at top speed.

The servants were very efficient; the news reached the Guangdong army's garrison in less than an hour.

Hong Zhaolin was studying the route into Guangxi on a map in the barracks when he heard the messenger's report. He was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter.

He put down his pencil, leaned back in his chair, and couldn't hide his smile: "It's like a pillow being delivered to your door when you're sleepy. I was just wondering how to get Mr. Chen to come and teach a few more classes, and he just showed up at my doorstep!"

He stood up, walked to the barracks door, and shouted outside: "Pass on my order! Transfer a squad from the reconnaissance company to patrol around Master Chen's house three times a day, morning, noon and evening, with staggered shift changes, two people during the day and four people at night."

Another telephone line was laid to the Chen family residence, directly connecting it to the camp headquarters. It was manned 24 hours a day, and personnel could assemble and depart within three minutes in case of any incident.

Also, tell those bastards in the reconnaissance company that Master Chen is coming over in a couple of days to give them extra lessons. Make sure they're in top form and don't embarrass me in front of Master Chen!

The messenger snapped to attention, turned, and ran off.

Hong Zhaolin stood at the entrance of the barracks, hands on his hips, looking at the reconnaissance company soldiers running laps in formation on the parade ground in the distance, in high spirits.

For every patrol squad that gets rotated, you get two lessons from Chen Hongwu – what a bargain!