I achieved mastery of martial arts during the Republic of China era.

Chapter 52: A Sudden Change Occurs at the Western Boxing Club!

In the blink of an eye, another month has passed, and it's already mid-May.

Spring has long since faded in Cangzhou City, and the summer heat is beginning to set in.

The midday sun shone brightly on the bluestone path, the locust tree leaves along the roadside were a vibrant green, and a faint sense of dryness hung in the air.

During this period, Zhou Tong's life has been uneventful.

Every day, he still goes back and forth between home, Longhu Martial Arts School, and Beicheng Police Station, as regularly as a pendulum.

But the surface of the water in Cangzhou City is not calm beneath.

First came the Worry-Free Sect.

About ten days ago, a notice was issued, officially permitting the Wuyou Sect to "promote goodness and spread the word, and educate the people" within the Cangzhou City area. As long as they do not disturb people's livelihoods or violate the law, the authorities will not interfere.

Once this notice was posted, the Worry-Free Cult members, who had previously been secretive and occasionally clashed with the police, seemed to gain confidence overnight and stepped into the limelight completely.

They set up fixed lecterns in several busy areas of the city, and during the day, three or five believers would stand on the lecterns to preach about the mercy and miracles of the "Our Lady of Sorrow".

The number of believers gradually increased, mostly ordinary people who were struggling and confused. After hearing the claims that "joining the religion will bring protection and bliss in the next life," they followed the worship in a daze.

When Zhou Tong patrolled the streets, he often encountered several minor leaders of the Worry-Free Sect wearing gray cloth jackets.

These people were exceptionally polite to him, the patrol captain, greeting him with smiles and clasped hands from afar, making way for him.

Sometimes when Zhou Tong led his group past their sermon platform, the preachers would pause for a moment and wait until he was far away before resuming their sermons.

He seemed even more well-behaved than before.

But Zhou Tong knew perfectly well what was going on.

The mysterious leader of the Worry-Free Sect went through great lengths to reach an agreement with several powerful figures in Cangzhou City in exchange for the right to preach.

They haven't even established a firm foothold yet, which is precisely the time to be kind to others and build a good image. Why would they show their fangs from the very beginning?

You have to keep pretending for a while.

As for how long it can hold, that depends on the undercurrents beneath the surface; when will they break through the thin layer of ice that's barely holding on?

……

That morning, Zhou Tong didn't have to patrol the streets, so he decided to go and see what was going on.

He was wearing an indigo-dyed long cotton gown and an ordinary black felt hat, the brim pulled down slightly, as he left his house.

Ji Chang was already waiting at the alley entrance, dressed casually as well, holding a folding fan in his hand, looking somewhat like a leisurely scholar.

"Let's go, junior brother."

Ji Chang closed his fan, gestured with his chin toward Zhou Tong, and said with a peculiar glint in his eyes, "Go and see what that Western spectacle is like."

It was still early, but the streets were already much noisier than usual.

The breakfast stalls were steaming, and the wonton stand and the sesame seed cake oven were surrounded by people.

The newsboy, carrying a canvas bag, waved the newly printed "Cangzhou Daily" and shouted in a high-pitched voice:

"Look at the newspaper! A Western martial arts school has opened in Cangzhou and is recruiting disciples!"

"Read the newspaper! The first Western boxing gym in Cangzhou opened today. The owner has sparred with a master martial arts expert from Tianjin and remains undefeated!"

Passersby stopped to watch, took out a copper coin or two to buy a serving, and discussed it as they watched, their faces filled with curiosity and excitement.

Zhou Tong and Ji Chang exchanged a glance, their eyes flickering slightly.

What they were going to see today was the opening ceremony of the first Western boxing gym in Cangzhou.

In the days leading up to it, the city's newspapers had been exaggerating the matter, praising the Western boxing style as something miraculous, saying things like "straightforward and powerful," "the training method is scientific and efficient," and "more suitable for modern combat," and so on.

The location for the opening was chosen at the intersection of Long'an Street and Ping'an Street, the most bustling street in the city, which was in the central area outside the sphere of influence of the four traditional martial arts schools in Cangzhou City.

Before we even reached the destination, the noise was already overwhelming.

At the street corner ahead, in front of a newly painted three-story Western-style building, crowds of people were jostling shoulder to shoulder.

A square arena was marked out in lime in the open space in front of the building, with a dozen red and blue triangular flags planted around it, fluttering in the morning breeze.

Above the building's entrance hangs a horizontal plaque with gold lettering on a black background, bearing four large characters:

"Weiden Boxing Club"

The characters are Chinese, but they have a stiff Western feel to them.

Below the plaque, there is a line of cursive letters in slightly smaller foreign script.

The arena was surrounded by layers upon layers of onlookers.

Some vendors carrying loads stood on tiptoe to look, some young people in school uniforms squeezed in the front row, and many men in short-sleeved shirts stood by with their arms crossed, watching coldly – ​​most of them were disciples sent by other martial arts schools to scout the area.

The crackling of firecrackers filled the air, the smell of sulfur mingling with the sweat of the crowd and the fumes from the street food stalls, creating a lively and bustling atmosphere.

Zhou Tong and Ji Chang did not plunge into the crowd, but went straight into the second floor of an old teahouse across the street.

This teahouse has an excellent location; the windows of the private rooms on the second floor facing the street directly face the entrance of the boxing gym, offering a wide view.

The waiter courteously led the two to a square table by the window, served them a pot of fine Longjing tea, and set out several dishes of melon seeds, peanuts, and cloud cakes.

Zhou Tong took off his hat, sat down, and looked through the carved wooden window at the bustling courtyard across the street.

Ji Chang poured two cups of tea, pushed one to Zhou Tong, picked up the other for himself but didn't drink it. He just watched the lively scene with a faint, cold smile on his lips.

"Quite a spectacle."

Ji Chang took a sip of tea and said calmly, "I just wonder how many silver dollars they spent to get that nonsense in the newspapers?!"

Zhou Tong didn't reply, he just watched quietly, his eyes dark.

Not long ago, Qin Lie mentioned the rise of foreign influence.

The grand opening ceremony, with its resounding drums and the attention of everyone, is the most flamboyant declaration of "Looking Up".

The long-standing pattern of local martial arts schools dominating the four corners of Cangzhou City was forcibly torn open by this fist from the West.

And this is probably just the beginning.

"Senior brother."

Zhou Tong looked at Ji Chang and asked, "How much do you know about Western boxing?"

Ji Chang put down his teacup, pondered for a moment, and said:

"I've heard a few words from some brothers who used to work at the docks. It's said that martial arts are also prevalent in Western countries. The training they do starts out similarly to ours, which involves strengthening muscles, bones, and blood. They just call it differently, but the principles are the same."

He paused, his eyes becoming more serious:

"However, it is said that once you reach the level of 'Grand Martial Master' and above, the approach becomes completely different."

As for the specific differences, that concerns the Grand Martial Master level, and is beyond my knowledge.

Zhou Tong nodded slightly.

As the two were talking, the emcee responsible for calling out names in front of the boxing gym across the street suddenly raised his voice, loud and clear, drowning out the noise in the room:

"The president of the Cangzhou Zhou Clan Chamber of Commerce, Old Master Zhou, has arrived!"

"Deputy Director of the Police Bureau, Young Master Bai of the White Crane Martial Arts School, Director Bai has arrived!"

These two shouts silenced the previously noisy crowd, which then erupted into an even louder roar.

Countless eyes turned to the street corner.

Two small blue sedan chairs landed steadily.

A sedan chair appeared ahead, its curtain lifted, and Old Master Zhou, leaning on his ebony cane, slowly stepped out.

Today he wore a crimson-purple silk robe with floral patterns, over which he wore a black mandarin jacket. His white hair was neatly combed, his face was lean, and his eyes were calm, exuding the dignity of someone who had long held a high position.

The person who stepped out of the next sedan chair was Bai Zhenhong, the deputy director of the police station, whom Zhou Tong had met once before.

He wasn't wearing his official robes today, but rather a sharp suit, his hair slicked back with hair oil and combed neatly. He stood side by side with Old Master Zhou, a perfectly appropriate smile on his face.

As soon as the two appeared, the crowd parted to make way for them.

Just then, a hearty laugh came from inside the Weiden Boxing Club.

A figure strode out with a powerful stride.

This man was extremely tall, nearly nine feet, and wore a well-tailored black Western-style suit. His broad shoulders and thick back made the suit look bulging.

He had blond hair, blue eyes, a high nose bridge, and deep-set eyes. He was around forty years old and had a warm smile on his face.

"Mr. Zhou! Director Bai! Welcome! Welcome, esteemed guests!"

The foreign owner of the restaurant spoke fluent Chinese, though with a slight foreign accent, his pronunciation was clear and accurate.

He clasped his hands in greeting, and his movements were surprisingly professional.

Grandpa Zhou nodded with a smile: "Congratulations on opening your martial arts school, Master William. Promoting martial arts is a great event, regardless of nationality."

Bai Zhenhong also laughed and said, "Master Williams traveled all the way across the ocean to Cangzhou to teach his skills and broaden his horizons. It is truly a wonderful story."

"Thank you so much! Thank you so much!"

Williams' smile widened, and he stepped aside to let them in. "Gentlemen, please come in! I've prepared some fragrant tea, please!"

The three chatted and laughed as they walked side by side into the martial arts club under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

On the second floor of the teahouse, Zhou Tong stared at Old Master Zhou, his eyes flashing, then turning as cold as ice.

Ji Chang chuckled and slammed his teacup down, the bottom of the porcelain cup hitting the table with a crisp sound. "The old man's made up his mind..."

Zhou Tong didn't speak, but simply looked away, picked up the cup of tea in front of him that had long since gone cold, and slowly drank it all.

The climax of the opening ceremony was fast approaching.

After a deafening burst of firecrackers, a burly foreign man wearing a tight vest and baggy trousers leaped nimbly onto the arena in front of the door.

He was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with brown curly hair, a high nose and deep-set eyes, and bulging muscles that stretched his vest taut, giving it a bronze sheen in the sunlight.

The foreign man steadied himself, and surprisingly, following the rules of the Chinese martial arts world, he clasped his hands in a fist salute to the surroundings, and loudly proclaimed in clearly spoken Chinese with a distinct foreign accent:

"Fellow elders and fellow martial artists of Cangzhou! I am John Smith, a disciple of the Weiden Boxing Club, and according to the standards of the Chinese martial arts world, I am at the peak of the Flesh Refining Realm!"

His voice was loud and clear, full of energy.

"Today is the opening of our martial arts club. According to the customs of your area, we should set up a martial arts arena to welcome guests and make friends through martial arts!"

A murmur immediately broke out in the audience.

"Do these foreign devils even understand our rules?"

"Hey, look at his body, it's like a lump of iron..."

"..."

John's gaze swept across the sea of ​​people below the stage, a confident smile on his face:

"I am but a humble novice, but I humbly offer my humble opinion as a starting point. If any fellow practitioners at the Muscle Training Realm are willing to come forward and offer their guidance, regardless of victory or defeat, the Weiden Martial Arts Society will present them with a small gift!"

As soon as he finished speaking, another commotion broke out in the audience.

According to the old rules of the Cangzhou martial arts community, setting up a challenge arena to test skills is an important way to demonstrate strength and make a name for oneself when a new martial arts school opens.

Usually, the young and skilled fighters from the gym will participate in the competition, and their skill level is usually set at the "peak of physical training" - which can show their strength without making other martial arts gyms feel that they are being looked down upon or provoked.

A martial artist at the Bone Forging Realm is already considered a prominent figure in the city, and they rarely participate in public matches unless under special circumstances.

Soon, a wiry man dressed in a gray short-sleeved shirt leaped onto the stage, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Wang Meng, a disciple of the 'Splitting Mountain Sect' in the south of the city, requests your guidance!"

"Please!" John's smile vanished.

After exchanging greetings, the two quickly began to fight.

Wang Meng's Mountain-Splitting Fist was characterized by its powerful and sweeping movements.

However, John's boxing style was extremely strange. He rarely used his legs. His fists were like springs, moving incredibly fast and making cracking sounds. He focused on attacking his opponent's head, face, chest, and abdomen. His footwork was agile and varied, and he always maintained a distance that was neither too close nor too far from Wang Meng.

In just over twenty moves, Wang Meng made a careless mistake and was struck in the ribs by John's swift right straight punch. He groaned, staggered back, and turned pale, having already lost.

"Thank you for your kind words!" John withdrew his fist, his expression indifferent.

The audience erupted in uproar.

Although Lieshan is a small martial arts school, it is quite well-known in the south of the city.

Wang Meng was quite skilled, yet he was defeated so decisively.

Immediately afterwards, two more people went up on stage, but both were defeated within thirty moves by John's quick punches or by his skillful evasion and counterattacks.

Three victories in three battles!

The atmosphere in the audience was completely ignited, with cheers and exclamations filling the air.

Many people were mesmerized by what they saw, feeling that the foreigner's fists were fast and fierce, and his fighting style was novel and powerful.

In the teahouse, Ji Chang curled his lip and snorted coldly:

"It's all an act. When a martial arts school opens, most of the people who go up to spar are pre-arranged, and the outcome is already predetermined."

These people from those small martial arts schools, tsk tsk, I wonder how much the foreigners paid them to willingly let them be used as benches.

Zhou Tong shook his head slightly and said, "This foreigner's punches are direct and his power is swift. In particular, his footwork is like the wind, and he is indeed a master in the Body Refinement Realm."

The three martial artists who went on stage might have been acting, but John's true combat strength should not be underestimated.

"Those chosen to step into the ring are naturally the best fighters selected from among many."

Ji Chang sneered again, turned his head, and said:

"But compared to you, junior brother, he's nothing. I really want to see you go up there and give those foreigners a good slap in the face, and shut them up!"

Zhou Tong slowly shook his head, his gaze still calmly fixed on the noisy arena downstairs.

"A fight based on personal feelings is meaningless."

His voice was calm: "Even if we win this match, it won't change the fact that this Western boxing club has taken root here."

He sighed and shook his head, saying, "In this world, with our limited strength, there's really too little we can do. We're lucky if we can protect ourselves and our families."

Upon hearing this, Ji Chang's expression darkened, and he silently took a sip of tea.

On the field, the opening match of the Weiden Boxing Club was a complete success.

The emcee then came up and loudly announced the martial arts club's enrollment regulations and tuition discounts, attracting many well-dressed citizens to come forward and inquire.

Zhou Tong and Ji Chang watched for a while, and seeing nothing new, they left the tea money, got up and went downstairs, quietly leaving this noisy place.

……

After parting ways with Ji Chang, Zhou Tong returned to the North City Police Station on his own, and it was nearly noon.

As soon as Zhou Tong stepped through the iron-clad gate of the police station, he sensed that something was amiss.

At this time of day, the lobby is usually filled with patrol officers changing shifts, eating, and resting. Although it is noisy, it is a kind of orderly busyness.

But today, a large crowd had gathered inside, whispering and discussing amongst themselves, a suppressed commotion permeating the air.

His gaze swept past the crowd and landed on the floor in the center of the hall, his pupils suddenly contracting.

On the ground, a straw mat was spread out, and on it lay a corpse!

At the edge of the straw mat, the dark red bloodstains had turned black and congealed into an unsightly clump.

Beside the body, Qin Lie and He Kun, the captain of the third squadron, stood side by side.

The two men's faces were terribly gloomy.

Qin Lie's fingers, holding the cigarette, were taut and white.

He Kun pursed his lips tightly, his cheeks twitching from biting so hard.