infodatos Chapter 105 The Blood Letter's Shocking Turn of Events: The Annihilation Scheme of the Northern
Chapter 105 The Blood Letter's Shocking Turn of Events: The Annihilation Scheme of the Northern
Chapter 106 The Blood-Written Letter: A Shocking Turn of Events, A Massacre of the Northern Martial Arts World! (5k)
"I know your kung fu skills are of mysterious origin, they're a gift from heaven. You won't tell me, and I won't ask. Everyone in the martial arts world has their own secrets."
"But the essence remains the same. All martial arts in the world, in the end, are about training muscles, bones, skin, and spirit."
"Xingyiquan has been passed down for hundreds of years, and the principles summarized by countless predecessors and masters will surely inspire you."
"If you can thoroughly understand these Five Elements and Twelve Forms and integrate them into your domineering power—"
That is—like adding wings to a tiger.
"At that time, not only in Beiping, but throughout the entire world, few will be able to withstand your punches!"
Lu Cheng looked at the boxing manual, and his heart stirred.
What does he lack most right now?
This system of theories is the "method" that countless masters have painstakingly summarized over the past few centuries.
With this, he can truly unite his scattered martial arts skills into a cohesive whole.
Transform the two forms of "bear and tiger" into a "dragon and tiger" showdown!
"it is good."
Lu Cheng accepted the box with both hands and placed it solemnly on the table.
"Don't worry, Mr. Han."
"As long as I, Lu Cheng, am alive."
"The lineage of Xingyi School will never be extinguished."
"No one can smash the signboard of this Simin Martial Arts Club!"
He accepted the boxing manual and the official seal.
The atmosphere in the room became more intimate.
They are no longer guests and hosts, but fellow disciples, inheritors and trustees.
Watching from the side, Third Master Li's eyes were filled with envy, but also with joy. He knew he had made the right move.
With Lu Cheng as their powerful backer, the Iron Fist Gym will be as secure as Mount Tai in the southern part of the city.
Lu Cheng became the head instructor of Xingyi School, and Li Tieshou was a friend of the head instructor. This status and prestige were enough for him to enjoy for a lifetime.
"Brother Lu."
After taking a sip of ginseng soup, Grandpa Han felt much better. Then, his tone changed and his expression became somewhat serious.
"Do you know why I said your kung fu is sinister?"
"I'd like to hear the details." Lu Cheng sat up straight.
"Your skill in dodging bullets that day was the way of utmost sincerity."
Old Master Han's gaze was deep and thoughtful.
"As the ancients said: 'Sincerity can lead to foreknowledge. When a nation is about to prosper, there will be auspicious omens; when a nation is about to perish, there will be monstrous signs. These can be seen in the divination of yarrow stalks and tortoise shells, and manifested in the movements of the four limbs. When fortune or misfortune is about to arrive, one will know beforehand whether it is good or bad. Therefore, utmost sincerity is like a god.'"
"This is not something that can be achieved simply by mastering kung fu to the point of reaching the level of Huajin."
"This is a state of being. A state of being of the heart."
"Often, only those with a magnanimous heart, a pure mind, and even those who disregard life and death for a greater cause—the truly chivalrous"—can, by chance, touch that threshold.
"I've lived to be seventy, and I've seen countless masters."
"Some people may have excellent kung fu skills, but if their hearts are not pure, they will only ever be thugs or martial artists."
"And you—"
Grandpa Han looked at Lu Cheng with a hint of emotion in his eyes.
"You're a Peking Opera singer."
"Logically speaking, this is the lowest of the low."
"But you, on the stage, have perfectly portrayed loyalty and righteousness throughout the ages, and your deep love for your country and its people."
"The play 'Si Lang Visits His Mother' tells the story of the dilemma of not being able to balance family and country. The play 'Riding Alone for a Thousand Miles' portrays the theme of unwavering loyalty and righteousness."
That play, "Yandang Mountain," champions national integrity!
"You've truly internalized the 'god' from this play, making him a part of your own being."
"The drama is real, but the feelings are real."
"The moment when you disregarded your own life to save your disciple and to protect the national martial art."
"Your heart is now connected to the righteous spirit of the world."
"This is—public opinion."
"This is—the heart of heaven!"
Lu Cheng listened, his heart skipped a beat.
He recalled the wisp of "True Dragon Purple Qi" in his sea of consciousness, and the "Golden Flame" that was growing stronger.
It turned out to be the case.
The rewards given by this system don't come out of thin air.
It transforms its every word and action into "firewood" to ignite the lamp in its heart.
The brighter the fire burns, the higher his skill level and the sharper his intuition becomes.
This is what is meant by "those who are virtuous will find many supporters"!
"Old Han is right."
Lu Cheng nodded slightly, his golden light in his eyes subdued, making them appear even more profound.
"Cultivate virtue before learning martial arts."
"If this fist is not restrained by morality, it becomes a weapon."
"Although I am just an actor, I know that some things are more important than life itself. Loyalty, integrity, family and country, compatriots—these are things that are in the bones of us Chinese people, and we cannot lose them."
"Good, what a 'more important than life' statement!"
Grandpa Han laughed heartily, which aggravated his wounds, causing him to cough a few times, but his energy and spirit were stronger than ever before.
"With your words, I can die in peace."
After laughing, Old Master Han's expression suddenly turned gloomy, like the calm before the storm.
He waved his hand, signaling all bystanders in the room to leave.
Only Lu Cheng, Third Master Li, and Huo Ziping remained.
"Brother Lu."
Old Master Han lowered his voice, his tone carrying a chill and deep worry.
"There's something I shouldn't say, since you just helped us out of a tight spot and went through all that trouble. But this matter concerns the foundation of our Xingyi School and also the life and death of President Liu."
Lu Cheng's eyes narrowed: "You mean—President Liu?"
"That's right."
Old Master Han gritted his teeth and said in a resentful voice.
That hatred wasn't directed at any individual, but at the aggressors and destroyers.
"The president and his colleagues went to Tianjin not to visit friends, nor to go sightseeing."
"They're going to a gathering."
"News has come from Tianjin that the Japanese are planning to hold some kind of Sino-Japanese martial arts competition in the concession," inviting martial arts practitioners from the north to "exchange skills," ostensibly to "promote cultural exchange."
"The president also wanted to investigate and see what the Japanese were up to, to know himself and his enemy. Accompanying him were Master Cheng Tinghua of Baguazhang, Mr. Yang Chengfu of Taijiquan, a total of seven top masters from the North."
"But who would have thought—once they left, they were never heard from again."
Grandpa Han's voice began to tremble.
"At first, we thought they were delayed on the road or held up by something. But ten days passed, then half a month—and there was still no news."
"Until the night before last, a young man covered in blood stumbled to the entrance of our martial arts school, uttered only 'Tianjin—blood letter—', and then fainted. We found this in his arms."
Grandpa Han pulled a crumpled strip of white cloth from under his pillow.
The strip of cloth was torn from clothing, with jagged edges, and the bloodstains on it had turned dark brown.
There were only a few hastily written words on the strip of cloth, written very quickly with crooked strokes.
[The Japanese pirates set a trap, imprisoning him in the foreign concessions; their aim is the martial arts world. Do not dwell on it.]
The following words are missing, which means they were either interrupted or didn't have time to finish writing.
"This is the president's handwriting."
Old Master Han clutched the blood-written letter in his hand, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
"I recognize his handwriting."
"He has a habit when writing: he likes to flick the last stroke upwards, like the edge of a knife. The last stroke of the character '念' (niàn), though messy, has that upward flick that's unmistakable."
The room was deathly silent.
The only sounds were Old Master Han's heavy breathing and Huo Ziping's teeth grinding together.
"This is a trap!"
Grandpa Han slammed his fist on the edge of the bed, making the wooden bed creak.
"While they are detaining our top experts in Tianjin, they are also sending people to Beiping to launch a surprise attack on our base and seize the fundamental map."
"Their goal is not just a painting or a martial arts school. They want to completely break the backbone of the northern martial arts world!"
"Think about it, if the president and the others don't come back, if the Simin Martial Arts Club is destroyed, if the 'White Tiger Carrying Corpse Diagram' is stolen—our Xingyi School will be finished. Baguazhang and Taijiquan will also be finished. The martial arts world in the north will be leaderless and become a disorganized mess."
"By then, if the Japanese set up another arena, who can stop them?"
"They can then openly declare that Japanese martial arts are superior to Chinese martial arts. They can completely crush us Chinese people spiritually!"
At this point, Old Master Han let out a long sigh.
He seemed to age several years in an instant, his back hunched over, and the light in his eyes dimmed.
He looked up at Lu Cheng, his eyes filled with complex emotions.
There is hope, a hope that this young man can turn the tide.
And yet, I couldn't bear to place such a tremendous burden on the shoulders of someone in their early twenties.
"Brother Lu, I'm giving you this seal of the head instructor and the boxing manual to preserve this lineage. I want you to uphold the Xingyi School in Beiping, teach your disciples well, and polish the brand."
Logically speaking, I shouldn't cause you any more trouble.
"Tianjin is located at the confluence of nine rivers, a melting pot of people from all walks of life, with numerous concessions: Chinese, Japanese, British, French, and Russian concessions—the various forces were deeply intertwined, making it a hundred times more chaotic than Beijing."
"That's a real den of dragons and tigers, a place that devours people without spitting out the bones."
"You are so young, yet you are already famous throughout the capital, and your future is bright."
"If you take over the position of head instructor and develop steadily in Beiping, you will surely become a grandmaster in time. I cannot, and dare not, ask you to take that risk—it is a life-or-death risk."
Grandpa Han paused, his voice a little hoarse, with an almost pleading tone.
This once-powerful grandmaster now resembles a helpless old man.
"I only have—I only have a favor to ask."
"If—I mean, if."
"If one day in the future you truly master this skill to the point of 'transformation,' reaching a level where 'not even a feather can be added, not even a fly can land,' then you will have absolute confidence in protecting yourself."
"Or perhaps they went to Tianjin on their way to take care of other business—"
"Could you—help me find out where the club president is?"
"Even if it's just to bring back his remains, let's not let him become a wandering ghost. We martial artists believe in returning to our roots and our homeland."
"To die in a foreign land, especially at the hands of the Japanese, would be too humiliating."
"Of course, if—if the president is still alive—"
Old Master Han's eyes lit up for a moment, but then dimmed again.
He knew that the possibility was extremely slim.
"Then you should act according to the situation. If you can save them, then save them; if you can't—don't force it. As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn."
As long as you live, there is still hope for Xingyi Quan.
"Our Xingyi School owes you so much. Whether this matter succeeds or not, you are our great benefactor."
"I, Han, will repay your kindness by serving you as an ox or a horse in my next life."
After saying this, Old Master Han did not kneel down. He had already knelt once to express his gratitude for being saved.
This time, it was a request, a plea; he could no longer use kneeling to coerce his benefactor.
He simply tremblingly raised his hands on the bed and performed the most solemn fist salute between peers.
The left hand is the palm, the right hand is the fist, the fist is placed against the palm, and raised to the chest.
That was the most solemn entrustment gift in the martial arts world.
Even in this dire situation, the old martial arts master still maintained his sense of propriety, his sense of "not wanting to implicate his benefactor."
He can ask, but he can't force.
You can entrust it to someone, but you can't kidnap them.
These are the older generation of江湖人 (jianghu people, people from all walks of life).
It's meticulous, yet heartbreaking.
Lu Cheng looked at the blood-written letter, then at the old man in front of him who was being cautious, afraid of being refused but not daring to force him.
He sighed inwardly.
This is the current state of Chinese martial arts.
The older generation is gradually passing away, and the new generation is facing a talent gap. The country is surrounded by external enemies and plagued by internal troubles.
Everyone is gritting their teeth and persevering; everyone is struggling to survive.
But it is precisely this hardship, this unyielding spirit in the face of adversity, that is the foundation of the Chinese nation's enduring strength for five thousand years.
Lu Cheng reached out and gently pressed down on Old Master Han's clasped hands.
Those hands were withered and dry, but still strong.
Those were hands that had practiced boxing their whole lives; the backs of their hands were covered in calluses, and their knuckles were large and deformed.
"Mr. Han, you don't need to do this."
Lu Cheng shook his head.
He turned his head and looked out the window at the gloomy sky.
The clouds were thick, but a ray of sunlight stubbornly peeked through a gap in the clouds, shining on the old locust tree in the yard and casting dappled light and shadow on the bluestone slabs.
Tianjin Wei.
That was indeed a place of trouble.
Nine foreign concessions, forces from all directions, people from all walks of life, a mixed bag.
Japanese, British, French, Russian —
There are also the Green Gang, the Hongmen, the Beggars' Gang, the Escort Agency, and the Martial Arts School—all these forces are deeply intertwined, and open and covert struggles are taking place every day.
but----
Lu Cheng had his own plans.
He hasn't fully mastered Xingyiquan yet. Although the system has given him initiation, it's about "force," not "method."
It's like giving you a mountain of gold, but not the key to open the vault.
To truly master this skill and reach the level of "Transformation of Strength," one still needs guidance from President Liu, the legitimate successor, to complete the essence of the Five Elements and Twelve Forms.
Working in isolation will never lead to great achievements.
Moreover, when the nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken.
Since the Japanese have set up this scheme, their intention is to destroy the lineage of Chinese martial arts.
Today they destroy Xingyiquan, tomorrow they will destroy Baguazhang, and the day after tomorrow they will destroy Taijiquan—until they completely eradicate the roots of Chinese martial arts.
Now that Lu Cheng has accepted the plaque of "Light of Chinese Martial Arts" and the position of head instructor of Xingyi School, he can't avoid this matter.
Once he evaded it, the anger dissipated.
Once the energy dissipates, the fist becomes useless.
A warrior can be defeated, but he cannot be intimidated.
You can die, but you can't be a coward.
Lu Cheng stood up and walked to the window.
Outside the window, a ray of sunlight shone directly on his face, creating a play of light and shadow.
His profile is strong, with a straight nose and lips pressed into a straight line.
"Old Han."
"I had originally planned to visit Tianjin."
"It's not just about learning the second half of Xingyi Quan to complete my skills."
"It's not just to save President Liu, but also to repay your favor."
"Even more so for—"
He turned around, and the sunlight shone on him from behind.
"Let's go see what kind of nonsense those Japanese are spouting at us."
"Let's go and meet those so-called masters, and see what their skills are really like."
Lu Cheng straightened his sleeves.
"Don't worry about getting better."
"Get well soon, keep the martial arts school afloat, and train your disciples well."
"When I return from Tianjin, let's work together to promote and develop Xingyi School."
He paused, then looked at Old Master Han.
"If President Liu were still alive—"
"I will bring him home."
"If he has already—"
Lu Cheng didn't continue speaking, but simply clenched his fist slightly.
"Then I'll let those people know—"
"Those who harm my compatriots, no matter how far away, shall be punished."
Those who insult our national martial arts will pay with their blood.
The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment.
Master Li opened his mouth wide, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.
Huo Ziping clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood.
As Grandpa Han looked at that tall, straight figure, tears streamed down his face.
Tears streamed down her face, crisscrossing the wrinkles, and dripped onto the blue floral quilt, spreading into dark dots.
His lips trembled, a thousand words churning in his throat, but in the end, they all boiled down to two words.
"Thank you so much!"
Those two words were spoken very softly, yet carried immense weight.
It was as heavy as if it had used up all my strength, as heavy as a belief entrusted with my entire life.
Lu Cheng nodded and didn't say anything more.
He picked up the sandalwood box on the table and put it in his pocket. He straightened his clothes and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Old Master Han.
"You should get some rest."
After saying that, he turned and walked out.
Clad in white, his silhouette as slender as a pine tree.
Outside the gate, the courtyard was filled with disciples of the Simin Martial Arts Association.
They had all gathered here at some unknown time, standing quietly like a silent forest.
Upon seeing Lu Cheng emerge, everyone clasped their hands in greeting and bowed.
There was no sound, but that silent respect was more powerful than any cheer.
Lu Cheng walked through the crowd toward the gate.
As soon as he stepped out the gate, Lu Feng had already prepared a carriage.
The chestnut horse snorted and pawed at the ground restlessly.
"Let's go."
He got into the carriage.
The wheels rolled, grinding over the bluestone pavement, heading back the way they came.
Inside the carriage, Lu Cheng opened the sandalwood box and took out the book "The True Interpretation of Form and Meaning".
The scent of ink mixed with the aroma of old paper wafted towards me.
Turning to the first page, there was a line of small print.
"Xingyi Quan is all about mind and intention. Mind and intention must unite, intention and qi must unite, qi and strength must unite. The three internal harmonies, the three external harmonies, and the six harmonies must be unified to form true Xingyi."
Lu Cheng silently recited the words, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.
The carriage crossed Taiping Bridge, where the water flowed gently beneath, and several children were still catching fish, their laughter ringing out.
The old man selling candied hawthorns was still calling out: "Candied hawthorns—sweet and crisp!"
'
In the teahouse, the storyteller was striking his gavel.
"As mentioned in the last chapter, Master Lu repelled a powerful enemy on a rainy night, using a broken spear to defeat a chariot—"
Business as usual.
But some things are different now.