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

When Chen Hongwen returned to the inn, panting heavily, it was already dusk.

He jogged through the lobby, climbed the stairs, and pushed open Chen Hongwu's door.

Before she could even stand up straight, her voice trembled with tears: "Brother, my purse has been stolen!"

Chen Hongwu was sitting at the table drinking tea, while Li Cunyi was leaning back in a chair by the window, resting with his eyes closed.

Upon hearing this, the two opened their eyes simultaneously.

"What's going on?" Chen Hongwu put down his teacup.

Chen Hongwen plopped down on the edge of the bed, gesturing with his hands as he recounted his ordeal in detail.

"Near the Chunlai Teahouse on Fuzhou Road."

After getting the information from the teahouse, I hadn't walked more than a block when a skinny guy bumped into me.

I took a few steps and checked my pockets; they were empty. When I turned around, that bastard had already dashed far away.

I chased him through several alleyways, but I still lost him in the end.

"That was all the money my father gave me. I'm relying on this money to establish myself in Shanghai."

If I can't find it, forget about settling down; in a few days, I'll be begging for food in Shanghai!

Chen Hongwu didn't rush to comfort him, but simply asked, "Where did you lose it?"

"There's an alley near the Shikumen (stone gate) area. Turn into it from Fuzhou Road, go to the end, turn left, then right, and that's when I lost track of it..."

"Which alley did you lose track of them in?" Chen Hongwu asked.

Chen Hongwen thought for a moment: "It seems to be a dead end, with a gray brick wall at the end and several baskets of rotten vegetable leaves piled up at the base of the wall."

At the entrance of the alley, there was a stall selling spiced beans, and next to it was a pawnshop with a faded blue cloth sign hanging outside.

"Did you get a clear look at their face?"

Chen Hongwen shook his head: "I didn't see his face clearly, I only saw his back."

She was thin and small, wearing a drab gray short-sleeved shirt and trousers that were too short to show her ankles. When she ran, she was like an eel, weaving and dodging through the crowd—she was incredibly fast.

Chen Hongwu stood up and picked up his coat from the back of the chair: "Take me to that teahouse."

The lights in Chunlai Teahouse were even brighter than during the day.

The evening tea shop had a different group of customers, with more dockworkers finishing their work and vendors packing up their stalls. The place was noisy and filled with smoke.

Chen Hongwen followed Chen Hongwu into the room and asked in a low voice, "Brother, what are we doing here? We're not in the mood for tea right now."

"So you know to come here to gather information." Chen Hongwu glanced around the lobby. "Gangs have branches and divisions of power, and thieves also have dens and territories. Which area belongs to which gang, and which thief makes a living near which teahouse—these are all established rules."

Few thieves dare to cross the border and steal from other places. If they are caught, they will be punished ranging from having their fingers chopped off to being thrown into the Huangpu River.

The person who stole your money, since they did it in the Shikumen area, is most likely from this neighborhood.

Chen Hongwen was stunned for a moment. He glanced around the lobby and quickly recognized the thin, middle-aged man from that afternoon.

The other person was sitting in the old spot in the corner, holding a handful of sunflower seeds, with their legs crossed. It looked like they had been sitting there all day.

Chen Hongwen strode over and grabbed his sleeve: "Sir!"

Zan'erliang was pulled so hard he stumbled, scattering melon seeds all over the table. When he looked up and saw Chen Hongwen, his expression changed slightly.

He then adopted a businesslike demeanor, pulled his sleeve back from Chen Hongwen's hand, and said unhurriedly, "Sir, according to the rules of the underworld, no refunds are given after hearing the news."

Everything you asked me this afternoon was true, not a single word was wrong. Even if you take it to the police station, I'll have a legitimate reason to believe you.

Chen Hongwen quickly waved his hand: "It's not a refund, it's not a refund! I came to ask you about something else."

Zan'erliang's guard immediately relaxed, his eyes lit up like two abacus beads rolling in their sockets, and a smile appeared on his lips: "Inquiring about something? No problem, no problem, what do you want to know?"

Chen Hongwu stepped forward, took out a few silver dollars from his pocket, and placed them on the table: "Where are the thieves' hideouts in this area?"

Zan'erliang glanced at the silver dollar, then at Chen Hongwu.

He was a seasoned veteran; he could tell from the two young men's clothes and manner of speaking that they were from out of town and were respectable people, not members of any gang.

He tapped his fingers on the table, accepted the silver dollar, and began to speak in a low voice: "Go east from Fuzhou Road, past the alley with the Shikumen gate, there is an old alley called Taipingli."

Deep inside Taipingli, there's a dilapidated courtyard with a crooked locust tree at the entrance. That's where the pickpockets' den is located.

The leader was a man named Liu Sanshou, who had seven or eight teenagers working under him. They specialized in stealing bags and picking pockets on these streets, and never left the area within two miles of the City God Temple.

The police had arrested them a few times, detained them for two days, and then released them. They were all teenagers, and the Public Works Department didn't want to bother with them.

After hearing this, Chen Hongwen quickly stepped forward again: "Yes, yes, the one who stole my money, he's thin and small from behind, wearing a drab gray short-sleeved shirt. His pants were too short, and he runs incredibly fast, like an eel. Do you know who it is?"

Zan'erliang did not answer, but simply picked up his teacup, took a sip, and tapped his finger lightly on the table.

This time, without needing to be reminded, Chen Hongwen took out two silver dollars from his pocket and placed them on the table.

Zan'erliang accepted the silver coins and slowly began to speak: "Little Mudfish, I don't know its surname or given name, I only know it's called Little Mudfish."

The fastest runner under Liu San's command is about fourteen or fifteen years old this year, and he's as thin as a bamboo pole.

He works exclusively in this alley, never venturing beyond Fuzhou Road. He was an orphan Liu Sanshou picked up from a garbage dump, raised him for a few years, and then started working for him.

-

Deep within Taipingli, the branches of a crooked locust tree lean obliquely out over the courtyard wall.

The yard was piled with broken tables and chairs, old bamboo baskets and several bundles of moldy straw. A crooked wooden shed was built against the wall, and inside the shed were several tattered cotton quilts of indistinguishable colors.

Several teenagers were squatting by the shed, each holding a chipped earthenware bowl, shoveling thin porridge into their mouths.

Their clothes were patched upon patched, their trousers rolled up high, revealing their thin calves and ankles, and they wore tattered cloth shoes with their toes sticking out.

The little mudskipper crouched low as it crossed the yard, trotted all the way to the main house, pulled out the heavy money bag from its bosom, and presented it to Liu San with both hands.

"Third Master, we caught a big fish today. Please take a look."

Liu San was a thin man in his early forties with little flesh on his face, high cheekbones, and a sparse goatee.

He sat in a broken rattan chair in the main room, his legs propped up on a bench, and was playing with a die in his hand, turning it around on the table.

When his gaze fell on the bulging money bag, his eyes lit up immediately.

"Little mudfish, you're on a lucky streak today, managing to snag a rich guy."

He stepped forward, snatched the money bag, tore open the knot at the top, and dumped it onto the table.

With a loud clatter, dozens of silver dollars mixed with copper coins were spilled all over the table, including a HSBC bank note of considerable value.

"Holy crap! I've struck it rich!"

Liu San's eyes widened, he grabbed a handful of silver dollars and smelled them, his wrinkles forming a chrysanthemum shape.

He counted the silver dollars one by one, his voice trembling, "I'm rich! I'm rich! I'm really rich now!"

He turned to look at the little mudskipper still kneeling on the ground, "I'll give you an extra steamed bun tonight! And a pickled radish too!"

The little mudfish swallowed hard, its Adam's apple bobbing, and then it kowtowed vigorously, its hands on the ground, saying, "Thank you, Third Master! Thank you, Third Master!"

Liu San swept all the silver dollars back into his money bag, tightened the knot at the top of the bag, and stuffed it into his pocket.

He squinted and thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, "What did the unfortunate guy you picked look like?"

The most important thing in this line of work isn't being quick with your hands, but having sharp eyes.

Before picking up a bag, make sure you've scouted the location carefully. After picking it up, be mindful and double-check the owner's identity. In case the owner turns out to be a tough nut to crack, be prepared.

He's been in this area for over a decade without ever getting into trouble, all thanks to this cautious approach.

Little Mudskipper knelt on the ground and honestly said, "Nothing special. He's in his early twenties, dressed plainly, and doesn't look like a big shot. He looks more like a country bumpkin from out of town."

As I passed by him, he was standing at the entrance of the teahouse, looking around and muttering something about Longjing tea. He was just a weak, bookish scholar.

After hearing this, Liu San felt completely relieved.

The frail scholar, from out of town, didn't recognize any of the local gangs.

These kinds of people are the easiest to manipulate; if you lose money, you can only accept it.

He tucked the money pouch in his arms even deeper, stood up, dusted off his clothes, and started planning which casino to go to that night.

He picked up the teapot on the table, took a sip, and was about to step out when suddenly a loud bang came from the courtyard gate.

The wooden door, which was already nearly rotten, was kicked open from the outside, and the door panel crashed to the ground with a bang, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Chen Hongwen stood in the doorway, one foot still poised to kick out, chin slightly raised, his voice, though lacking in confidence, was extremely loud: "Let me see which blind fool stole my money bag!"

Chen Hongwu stood behind him, hands at his sides, his face calm. Li Yi leaned against the doorframe, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Several children who were drinking porridge in the corner of the yard looked up at the same time, and most of the porridge in their bowls spilled out. They huddled together in fright.

Liu San had just stepped out of the main room, and before he could even cross the threshold, he was startled by the kick that sent the door tumbling down his spine. He instinctively clutched the money pouch in his arms tighter.

But having been in the underworld for over a decade, he managed to regain his composure, forcing a forced smile: "Gentlemen, what brings you here? Let's talk this out. Is there some misunderstanding?"

He secretly made a gesture behind his back, and two slightly older boys in the corner of the yard quietly stood up.

They crept along the corner of the wall toward the courtyard gate, each clutching half a broken brick in their hand.