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

November 9th is an auspicious day.

Outside the Xiaodongmen Gate of Nanshi, in front of the martial arts school converted from the Fujian Guild Hall, lanterns and decorations were hung.

The new plaque hangs high, covered with red silk, and has not yet been unveiled.

The open space in front of the gate was already packed with people.

Martial arts performers, ordinary people, and vendors from near and far came to watch the spectacle, crowding half the street.

The Jingwu Association disciples, dressed in matching blue cloth short jackets, stood in two rows on either side of the gate, looking spirited and energetic.

Hu Baoyi stood with Chen Gongzhe on the steps, helping to greet the guests.

Chen Gongzhe wore a dark-patterned long gown that day, his face beaming with joy, and he greeted everyone with a fist and palm salute.

There were many martial arts masters who came.

Some of the owners of the major martial arts schools in Shanghai were on good terms with the Jingwu Association, while others came because of its reputation.

What truly drew everyone's attention were Lu Songgao and Tian Zhaolin.

Lu Songgao, from Zhoukou, Henan, was a master of Xinyi Liuhequan, known for his unparalleled strength and power. Tian Zhaolin, a successor of Yang-style Tai Chi, moved with the grace of an old ape hanging from a branch, his movements relaxed, deep, and continuous.

As soon as the two arrived, a chorus of whispers arose at the door.

These two men were both well-known figures in Shanghai's martial arts world, rarely showing their faces. More importantly, they had recently represented the Green Gang in a fight against Chen Hongwu, losing face as a two-on-one opponent.

Logically speaking, it would be considered magnanimous of them not to make enemies with Chen Hongwu, but no one expected that they would take the initiative to come to their door with congratulatory gifts.

Is it genuine magnanimity, or is there another motive?

Just then, a gust of wind blew by.

Everyone looked up and saw the words "Central" peeking out from the corner of the plaque with the red silk still covering it, and they immediately gasped.

"Could the rumors be true? The Central Martial Arts Academy? What a boastful tone!"

"This Chen Hongwu truly intends to become the leader of the Chinese martial arts world!"

"Too powerful to rival the universe, that's all there is to it."

The murmurs rose and fell, but Chen Gongzhe pretended not to hear them, his smile unchanged.

As the auspicious hour approached, the Jingwu Association disciples began calling out names.

"Master Liu from Anren Martial Arts School has arrived! He's delivering a plaque and fifty silver dollars!"

"At the Gangrou Guild Hall, Master Zhang has arrived! He's bringing a set of sacrificial animals and two rolls of cloth!"

"Master Li from Zhenhua Martial Arts School has arrived! He's bringing a bag of iron shot and a pear blossom spear!"

The chants rose and fell, and the Jingwu disciples in front of the gate shouted until their throats were dry, but they still chanted one after another, clearly reciting the names on the gift list.

Each time a song was sung, people in front of the door would applaud.

Chen Hongwen kept the accounts while Chen Shi carried the gifts inside.

More than a dozen reporters from major newspapers also arrived, holding cameras and flashing their lights.

The news of the Japanese sending coffins a while ago has already spread throughout Shanghai.

If the Japanese don't cause a scene on the opening day, it will be big news, and everyone will want to grab the front page.

Chen Hongwu, dressed in a black silk short jacket, stood in the front courtyard and greeted each of the guests with a fist and palm salute.

He didn't talk much, but he carried an air of authority. When a martial arts master came up to offer him tea, he accepted it and drank it; when someone offered him a hand, he shook it and then put it down, saying, "I've long admired your name."

In the world of martial arts, everyone carries a sedan chair; even complete strangers have to make an appearance.

Not too enthusiastic, not too aloof, the balance is perfectly struck.

Just when the commotion reached its peak, the street corner suddenly fell silent.

A dozen or so people pushed through the crowd and walked toward the gate.

They were all dressed in black suits, some even carrying knives. The two in front carried a long wooden plaque covered with a white cloth. Behind them followed a squad of Japanese soldiers, fully armed with gleaming guns.

The leading Japanese man, speaking in a sinister tone and broken Chinese, shouted at the gatekeeper of the Jingwu Association: "Call out the names! Takeda Sosaku, present the plaque!"

The gatekeeper's face paled, but he still stood tall: "Please follow the rules. Present your credentials first, then call out your names. You cannot force your way in!"

The Japanese man sneered, took a step forward, and slapped his disciple across the face.

The disciple's lip was cut open from the beating, and he staggered and crashed into a doorpost.

The Jingwu Association disciples on both sides immediately stepped forward, but were stopped by the Japanese soldiers who had drawn their guns.

"A plaque presented to Chen Hongwu by Takeda Sosaku!"

Two Japanese soldiers tore open the white cloth.

A black lacquered horizontal plaque revealed four large characters—

The sick man of East Asia.

The streets were in uproar.

"Those Japanese devils are going too far!"

"Damn those Japanese ancestors!"

The martial arts instructors were in an uproar, and several hot-tempered ones had already rolled up their sleeves, ready to charge forward.

Before he could even take a step, the group of Japanese soldiers simultaneously pulled back their rifle bolts with a "clatter".

The dark muzzle swept across, and the sound of the bolt being cocked extinguished the anger in many people's hearts.

Chen Hongwu had already come out upon hearing the noise.

Chen Gongzhe, Hu Baoyi, Chen Hongwen, Lu Songgao, and Tian Zhaolin followed behind.

Upon seeing the words "Sick Man of East Asia," Chen Hongwen's eyes immediately turned red: "Fuck your grandma! Smash this damn plaque!"

He lunged forward, but Hu Baoyi grabbed him around the waist.

"Let me go! I'll tear this bastard to pieces!"

The Japanese sneered, and with a wave of his hand, the Japanese soldiers all pointed their guns at Chen Hongwu and the others.

The bayonets gleamed coldly, and the people around them exchanged glances, gritting their teeth.

The atmosphere froze, all eyes were fixed on Chen Hongwu, as if a conflict could erupt at any moment.

Just then, a clear, loud shout suddenly came from the street corner:

"General Lu Yongxiang of the Songhu Military Governor's Office has dispatched Young Master Lu Xiaojia!"

That shout, full of energy, drowned out the noise of the street.

Immediately afterwards, twenty or thirty guards armed with short-barreled rifles surged in from the street corner, surrounding the group of Japanese soldiers and men in black.

Guns pointed at guns, bayonets at bayonets, and the situation was immediately reversed.

Lu Xiaojia, dressed in a white suit and top hat, strode over, not even glancing at the Japanese, and simply bowed towards the door: "Master Chen, congratulations on the opening! I'm late!"

After saying that, he turned around and waved his hand at an adjutant beside him.

"Sing for me!"

The adjutant unfolded a red invitation card and loudly proclaimed:

"General Lu Yongxiang, Military Governor of Songhu, presents the following as a congratulatory gift for the opening of the Central Martial Arts Academy: two thousand silver dollars, a gold plaque inscribed with the words 'Strong Nation, Strong Race,' and a guard of twenty men stationed at the academy!"

P.S. The next chapter will be delayed, sorry.