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

After a hearty meal, Chen Gongzhe escorted Chen Hongwu and the other two out of Xinghualou.

Fuzhou Road was even more bustling in the afternoon than when we arrived. The sun was setting, and the asphalt road shone with a glossy sheen.

The shops along the street were all open, and the silk shop assistants stood at the door shouting their wares.

"Newly arrived Hangzhou silk, authentic Hangzhou goods!"

The aroma of freshly roasted Longjing tea wafted from the tea shop next door, mingling with the meaty smell from the steamed bun shop across the street, making passersby sniffle.

The rickshaw pullers squatted on the roadside eating their boxed lunches, and when they saw someone come out, they would shout to solicit business.

"Sir, need a car? French Concession, Hongkou, Zhabei—anywhere is fine!"

Chen Hongwen stood on the steps in front of Xinghualou, glanced at the opium den sign across the street, then looked away, a hint of worry on his face: "Brother, those guys Chairman Chen mentioned earlier, Lu Songgao and Tian Zhaolin, they don't sound like good guys. You'd better be extra careful on the stage the day after tomorrow."

Chen Hongwu nodded: "I know what I'm doing. I'll head back to the inn first. Do you want to come with me?"

"No, I want to wander around the streets." Chen Hongwen shook his head and took out a few silver dollars from his pocket and put them into his inner pocket.

Chen Hongwu patted him on the shoulder and laughed, "Alright, we'll head back now. Take care of yourself."

Chen Hongwu and Li Cunyi flagged down two rickshaws to return to the inn. Li Cunyi remained silent the whole way until they arrived at the inn, at which point he suddenly spoke up: "Master Chen, you didn't know that Huang Jinrong colluded with the Japanese to sell opium, but now that you know, are you still keeping such scum around for the New Year?"

Chen Hongwu glanced at him, while Li Cunyi, his face filled with murderous intent, lowered his voice and continued, "If you feel it's inconvenient for you to do it yourself, I will. Anyway, in my line of work, killing one more person won't make a difference."

Chen Hongwu said, "No rush. We'll settle this score sooner or later after the arena incident is over. If you go and kill him now, the Green Gang's influence is all over Shanghai. Do you think you can escape?"

Besides, we came here to settle old scores. If we stab someone in the back before even seeing the fighters, what will outsiders think?

Li Cunyi remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

On the other side, Chen Hongwen strolled eastward along Fuzhou Road.

He walked slowly, stopping to look at each shop he passed.

Fashionable Western-style dresses hung in the shop window of the clothing store, and the clerk of the silk shop was greeting customers at the door.

At the entrance of the dried goods store, sacks filled with dried scallops and shark fins were piled up. An old lady from the pickle shop sat at the entrance picking green beans and chatting with the vendor next door who sold spiced beans in Shanghainese.

All of this was new to him. Although Foshan was also a commercial port, it was far less prosperous and bustling than Shanghai.

He walked and stopped, then turned into a small street called Shikumen. He saw a two-story brick and wood building on the side of the street with a faded wooden sign hanging in front of the door that read "Chunlai Teahouse".

The teahouse was small but bustling. There were about ten square tables in the lobby on the first floor, where dockworkers in short jackets, small businessmen in long gowns, and idlers carrying birdcages were crammed together. The air was filled with a mixture of smoke, sweat, and tea, creating an indescribable smell.

The waiter carried a long-spouted copper kettle and moved back and forth between the tables. Someone was shouting about the ghost story at Guangzhao Mountain Villa last night, and the people at the next few tables were listening intently.

Chen Hongwen found an empty seat by the window and sat down. "Waiter! A pot of Longjing tea and two plates of melon seeds, please!"

After sitting for about half a cup of tea's time, he beckoned to the waiter and slipped a few copper coins into his hand: "I'd like to inquire about some things in Shanghai. Could you help me find a local shopkeeper?"

Zan'erliang is the kind of person who is well-informed, has a wide network of connections, and knows his territory well.

"Alright! Please wait a moment, sir!"

The waiter weighed the copper coin in his hand, said nothing, and turned to go to the kitchen.

Before long, a thin, middle-aged man sat down opposite Chen Hongwen.

The man was wearing a faded gray cloth long gown, his hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes, like two abacus beads, darted around. He spoke in Shanghainese with a Suzhou accent: "Sir, you wanted to ask me something?"

Chen Hongwen cut to the chase: "I just arrived in Shanghai and want to do some business. Who really calls the shots in Shanghai? What areas are safe to enter, and what areas are dangerous to avoid?"

The middle-aged man smiled and lowered his voice, saying, "For just ten silver dollars, I'll tell you everything about the inner workings of Shanghai."

Chen Hongwen hesitated for a moment. Ten silver dollars was not a small amount, but he really needed a sensible person right now, so he took out ten silver dollars and pushed them in front of him.

The middle-aged man put away the silver dollars, leaned back in his chair, and began to speak in a low voice: "There are countless powerful forces in Shanghai, but only three really call the shots. The first one is the Green Gang in the French Concession. Boss Huang Jinrong has connections everywhere. Without his approval, no opium den, casino, or brothel can be opened in the French Concession."

The second one was the Shanghai Municipal Council in the International Settlement, which was controlled by the British and Americans. Most people doing legitimate business had to use the docks there.

The third group consists of the police stations and various local warlords in the Chinese-controlled area. They are the weakest in power, but they are also very close.

Besides, there was also a Japanese branch of the Black Dragon Society in Hongkou, mainly active in the area, involved in land and water escort services, arms dealing, and had a deep cooperative relationship with the Green Gang.

Chen Hongwen asked a few more questions about the details, then paid for the tea and left the teahouse.

Just as I turned into a small alley, a thin figure bumped into me.

The person walked very fast, and lightly bumped into him as they passed each other.

Chen Hongwen took a few steps forward and subconsciously touched his waist.

My wallet is empty!

He turned around abruptly, but the thin figure had already darted far away, weaving and dodging through the crowd like an eel.

"Stop!" Chen Hongwen took off chasing after him.

The alley was piled with debris on both sides. He dodged a cart that was blocking the middle of the road and jumped over a puddle of water, but the skinny figure who stole the money was much faster. He turned left and right and quickly left him behind.

Chen Hongwen chased after him for about a hundred steps, then bent over, panting heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead and down his chin.

He was a young man who spent all his time flipping through account books, and running this short distance was already his limit. He could only watch helplessly as the thief disappeared at the end of the alley.

He stood up, brushed the dust off his knees, took a deep breath, turned and walked back. "Damn it, they bullied me. I'm going to find my brother!"