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

Gunfire continued behind them as Japanese soldiers relentlessly pursued them.

Chen Hongwu climbed over the back wall, stepped on the roof tiles, and leaped over three low buildings, leaving his pursuers a street behind before finally landing in a narrow alley.

The alley was extremely narrow, flanked by high walls on both sides, with only a sliver of sky overhead.

Every step you take on the ground reveals a swamp of sewage, rotten vegetable leaves, dead rats, and the stench of moss growing at the base of the wall.

He had only taken a few steps when several points of light appeared in front of him.

A group of seven Japanese ronin. They all wore black kimonos, with long and short swords tucked into their waistbands, wooden clogs, and either white cloths tied around their foreheads or bowls with the inscription "May your martial fortune last forever" tied around them.

The tassels on the hilts swayed gently in the wind. Each person's gaze was cold and sharp, their faces expressionless.

"Baka yarou!"

A ronin let out a strange cry, drew his sword and charged forward, slashing down at Chen Hongwu's head.

Chen Hongwu shifted his body to the side, and the blade grazed his ear, missing its mark.

His left hand, like a crane's beak, struck the Taiyuan acupoint on the wrist of the person holding the knife with lightning speed.

The man's palm went numb, and the katana slipped from his hand.

Chen Hongwu swung the knife around in a backhand motion. Then he took a step forward, and the blade flashed.

"laugh!"

Blood exploded, a head flew off, and the body continued to run forward two steps before collapsing to the ground.

"Swish, swish, swish!"

The other six men drew their knives simultaneously.

Chen Hongwu advanced with his sword, the blade flashing like a rainbow.

Xingyi swordsmanship consists of six techniques: collapsing, pressing, hooking, slashing, picking, and stabbing. Each technique is a genuine skill used in battlefield combat.

When Chen Hongwu obtained this sword, which was nothing more than a knife, it was like a phoenix falling to earth or a dragon returning to the sea.

A ronin slashed diagonally with his sword, but Chen Hongwu deflected the attack with a sharp, forceful thrust of his own blade, then pushed forward with the momentum.

"Hmm..."

The knife tip pierced the throat and emerged through the neck.

"puff!"

He pulled it back, and another spray of blood appeared.

Another person attacked from behind, but before the knife could fall, Chen Hongwu turned around and unleashed a "Sweeping Thousands of Troops" strike. The blade flashed like a fan, severing the man's knife and wrist in one swift motion.

"ah!!"

The ronin screamed, and blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering all over the gray wall.

But the next second, the screams of agony stopped abruptly. The man had been stabbed in the throat and could no longer cry out. He collapsed limply to the ground.

Chen Hongwu's swordplay continued unabated, weaving through the alley like a shooting star.

With blows of chopping, hacking, thrusting, and stabbing, the seven men fell one after another.

The last man was cornered, raised his knife to fight back, and cried out, "Shinai!!!"

Chen Hongwu slipped and flew close to the ground, the tip of the knife piercing through his lower abdomen and exiting from his lower back.

With a flick of his wrist, the blade twisted half a circle inside the man's body.

When Chen Hongwu drew his sword, all that remained on the iron blade was a severed intestine.

"Overestimating one's abilities."

Chen Hongwu sneered, flicked the blood off his knife, and looked up at the alley entrance.

The firelight reflected on the wall, like the sunset, or like a blood-red curtain hanging in mid-air.

"boom!"

Not far away, another building collapsed with a roar, sending plumes of smoke and dust billowing into the sky.

Before dawn, Hongkou had already been turned upside down.

Wusong Road, Kunshan Road, and Haining Road were all filled with soldiers.

Street checkpoints were set up, alleys were blocked off, and even searchlights were erected along the Huangpu River.

The sound of military boots pounding on gravel never stopped throughout the night. Occasionally, a military vehicle would drive by on the street, its headlights flashing and turning the window paper of the houses on both sides white.

Portraits of Chen Hongwu were plastered everywhere.

Posters with still-wet ink were pasted on utility poles, walls, shop doors, and bamboo sheds at wonton stalls.

The people of Hongkou stayed indoors, not even daring to open their windows.

The mother covered the child's mouth, and even the dog dared not bark.

A few of the bolder ones peeked through the crack in the door and saw the bayonet gleaming coldly in the morning light, then silently bolted the door shut.

As the sun climbed over the steel frame of the Waibaidu Bridge, Chen Hongwu, the protagonist who stirred up a huge storm last night, had already changed his appearance and was now swaggering down the street.

When the skill of neutralizing force reaches the face, the muscles, fascia, and bones all obey. By slightly retracting the cheekbones, pressing down the brow bone, and pushing the chin forward a little, the entire face is transformed.

His black silk short jacket was stained with blood and scorched at the edges. Afraid of being recognized, he sneaked into the back door of a clothing store before dawn, borrowed a worn-out gray-blue long gown, left a silver dollar, and retrieved it from the back alley.

He transformed himself into a man in his thirties, his gaze becoming more reserved, and his back slightly hunched, showing no trace of a master of internal energy.

There were almost no restaurants that could stay open in Hongkou. After the martial law was declared, even brothels closed down.

No one dared to provoke the Japanese at this critical juncture.

He entered a Cantonese restaurant called "Fu Ya Lou," not far from the intersection of Di Siwei Road.

Last night, the firelight illuminated half the sky, and the restaurant was only two streets away. The steamers were already up, and the aroma of steaming meat mixed with soy sauce wafted into the street. To be able to stay open at a time like this, one needs connections.

Chen Hongwu chose a table against the wall and sat down, but did not ask for tea. He simply called to the waiter: "Slice two ounces of pork head meat, make plain congee, steam a basket of shrimp dumplings, bring two plates of rice noodle rolls, and six baskets of char siu buns and ten pan-fried buns—"

The waiter's eyes widened in surprise: "Ten?"

"Um."

"Then, please wait a moment, sir." The waiter took the white towel and left.

The food arrived quickly, and Chen Hongwu devoured the char siu buns one after another, his cheeks bulging out.

The congee was cooked over an open flame until it was very thick and had a rich aroma of rice. He picked it up and drank two bowls in a row.

The rice noodle rolls and shrimp dumplings were gone in no time, and he ate the pan-fried buns even faster. As soon as he closed his mouth, juice gushed out and splashed down his chin.

He ate heartily, sweat beading on his forehead.

Sweat evaporated from under the skin, sending up a puff of white vapor. Even the waiters a few meters away could tell that the room had warmed up considerably.

It wasn't that he was deliberately using his internal energy; he was simply extremely hungry. Last night's series of battles—the aftershocks of artillery shells, gunshot wounds, and knife fights—had nearly depleted his energy and strength by half.

Before dawn, he climbed over twelve rooftops and traversed eight dark alleys before finally shaking off his pursuers.

Only after finishing the first bowl of porridge did my body feel like parched land being irrigated, slowly coming back to life.

More and more diners gradually appeared around the area.

Someone whispered, "There was a huge commotion on North Sichuan Road last night; the Japanese even used their cannons."

"Who says otherwise? I haven't slept a wink all night. Hongkou is like an iron barrel now, with guards every three steps and sentries every five. I heard that in order to catch that Chen Hongwu, they even sent people to guard all the ferry crossings, docks, and stations." A middle-aged man in a gray robe said in a low voice, peeling peanuts quickly.

"Can you catch him?" someone scoffed. "Kill Huang Jinrong, then take down the Black Dragon Society's headquarters. How could someone like that be caught so easily? What's the difference between a Japanese arrest warrant and toilet paper?"

"You can't say that." The gray-robed man glanced around, then lowered his head slightly. "Those Japanese are ruthless; they'd even bomb their own people. Maybe we can actually find someone."

Silence fell over the table. Someone gasped, "These Japanese, they're even bombing their own people?"

"They wouldn't care about that. Didn't you see that entire alley was bombed to a crisp yesterday?"

Chen Hongwu chewed on a crab roe bun, raised his eyelids, and heard every word his neighbor said.

At this moment, a commotion broke out in front of the restaurant.

Two Japanese soldiers in military uniforms, carrying rifles, swaggered in, lifting the curtain.

The shopkeeper at the entrance hurriedly bowed, his face stiff with a smile, and gestured "please" towards the back of the shop.

The two Japanese soldiers talked in English for a while, then their eyes swept over and circled the lobby.

Chen Hongwu lowered his head to drink his porridge, then picked up the last piece of char siu with his chopsticks.

The two Japanese soldiers' eyes swept over his head without stopping.

One said, "I don't.", and the other nodded.

The two stood at the door for a while, muttered something to each other, and then turned and went across the street.

Chen Hongwu put down his chopsticks, stuck out his tongue, and slowly licked away the grease from his lips.

"Hey buddy, bring three more baskets of shrimp dumplings." He shouted to the kitchen, immediately attracting a lot of attention in the dining room.