Chen Zikong stepped forward, but the martial arts community didn't pay attention to him. Everyone was leaning back with their legs crossed, sipping tea and lowering their heads. Only Yang Zhangmen from the Town Martial Arts Hall sneered: "Shu has no great general, Liao Huasheng is the vanguard, haha, Jingwu Association really has no one."

  Yang Zhangmen, at the time when Guan Yu beheaded Hua Xiong after warming up with wine, was just a small horse archer, and it didn't affect him from beheading generals in front of the army. Chen Zikong replied calmly.

  "Hmm, you're quite bold, aren't you? You must be Liu Zhen Sheng's disciple. When did Jing Wu become so lawless that a junior like you gets to speak up?" Yang Zhang Men sneered coldly.

  Chen Zikun said: "I am Huo Yuanjia's legitimate disciple, now that our master is no longer here, we are fellow disciples of the same generation, how can I not speak?"

  Liu Zhen Sheng furrowed his brow, recognizing Chen Zi Kun as the mysterious fist expert who had visited him yesterday. However, he recalled that his master had never taken in a disciple like this before. The Huo family's kung fu was traditionally only passed down within the family and not to outsiders, until Huo Yuan Jia broke this rule by taking Liu Zhen Sheng, then a relatively well-known "Shandong hero", as his apprentice. Later, he also took in Lu Da An, while Si Tu Xiao Yan was an orphan adopted by Huo Yuan Jia, who was several years younger than Huo Dong Ge and considered a closed-door disciple. Adding to this were the eldest son Huo Dong Zhang, making a total of five people, which could be counted on one hand, so how could he have made a mistake?

  So Liu Zhen Sheng didn't say a word, he just cast his gaze towards Nong Jin Rong, who was one of Huo Yuan Jia's closest friends and the founder of Jing Wu Association. There were many secrets that only he and their master knew, but as the eldest brother of the transmission of power, Liu Zhen Sheng himself didn't know.

  Nong Jinrong hadn't spoken yet, when Situ Xiaoyan chimed in: "Just now, Uncle Nong said that Chen is indeed our fifth senior brother of the Jingwu Association. Didn't you hear?"

  Yang Zhangmen sneered, "Now that Master Huo is gone, someone is using his name to deceive people, and you don't even care. You're actually taking it seriously, thinking we're all so gullible. Master Huo only had five disciples, how could there be another one popping up ten years after he's dead?"

  Nong Jingyun's face slightly darkened as he said, "Yang Zongtang, your words are unreasonable. Does Master Huo need to report to you when accepting a disciple?"

  Yang said to clear himself: "Master Huo's acceptance of a disciple does not need to be announced to the world, but at present, the National Sports Association is about to be established. This is an unprecedented grand event in China's martial arts for thousands of years. If Japanese spies infiltrate and cause great harm, I am also thinking of the overall situation. Please don't mind, Mr. Nong."

  A veteran of the martial arts world who had been sitting in a chair drinking tea stood up, bowed to all sides and said: "Let me say something fair, it doesn't matter whether this young man is or isn't a direct disciple of Huo Yuanjia, what matters is whether he has the ability to represent the Jingwu Association."

  The crowd echoed in agreement, and Yang Zhangmen stood up, tied his long gown around his waist, and beckoned to Chen Zikun: "Come on, little brother, I'll try your skills." As soon as he finished speaking, his body twisted and flew into the courtyard. His movements were light and agile, like a swallow in flight. Everyone present was a martial arts expert, how could they not see the wonders of his footwork and the high level of his kung fu? Suddenly, a burst of applause erupted.

  Chen Zikun remained motionless.

  Yang Zhangmen was furious: "Don't you dare compare?"

  Chen Zikong said: "Right, I don't dare."

  Everyone was shocked and even Liu Zhen Sheng felt that Chen Zi Kun's actions were too arrogant, so lightly looking down on the martial arts world, which would greatly harm the reputation of the Jing Wu Association.

  "My kung fu is not for testing or comparing, but for killing. I'm afraid of hurting Yang Zhangmen and leaving behind a widow and orphan that you can't take care of."

  Yang Zhangmen was truly angry this time, his beard standing on end, and he shouted loudly: "You cowardly scoundrel! How could Huo Yuanjia possibly take you as a disciple? You're just boastful with your mouth, but let's see the truth in our fists and feet. Rest assured, if Yang somehow makes a mistake and unfortunately dies under your fist, all the gentlemen present can bear witness, and I won't blame you."

  Chen Zikong said, "You are willing to die, but I am not willing to kill. Learning martial arts is not for showing off bravery or being fierce, but for strengthening one's body and protecting the family and country. Yang Zhangmen is so old, can't he even understand this simple truth?"

  The most righteous and severe words made Yang Zhangmen speechless, but he still insisted: "If you have the ability, why don't you go find the Japanese to settle the account."

  Chen Zikong said: "Isn't this because you've been bothering me? Otherwise, I would have left long ago."

  He finished speaking and turned around to pick up the sign of Dongya Bingfu, put it on his shoulder and walked out with a proud expression.

  Everyone looked at each other in dismay, not daring to believe that this young man actually went to find the Japanese to settle accounts.

  Situ Xiaoyan was the first to jump up and say: "I'll go with you."

  Several slightly injured Jingwu students also picked up their single-edged swords and clubs, wanting to follow along. Liu Zhen Sheng slapped the table: "Nonsense!"

  "Sima Xiaoyan said with a wronged expression: 'Big Brother Shifu, look at what happened to Fourth Brother.'"

  "Liu Zhen said: 'A dog bites a man, must the man also go and bite the dog? From today on, whoever steps out of this door will no longer be a member of Jingwu Association.'"

  "Big Brother Master!" Xīu Xiǎo Yán stamped her foot and walked away, resentfully. Although she was the little junior sister whom everyone spoiled, she didn't dare ignore the orders of the Master's eldest brother.

  The martial artists looked at each other, stood up and bid farewell, the wounded of the Jingwu Association were also carried away, leaving only Liu Zhen Sheng and Nong Jin Yun in the large living room.

  Liu Zhensheng sighed and said, "The Jingwu Association is no longer the same as when Master was alive. The old are old, the young are young, and it can't withstand turmoil. If the Jingwu Association is ruined in my hands, how can I face Master's spirit in heaven?"

  Nong Jing walked over and patted his shoulder, saying: "Zhen Sheng, I understand your difficulties. Now that the Jingwu Association has no successors, it's hard to stand alone, and the Shanghai martial arts world is just a scattered sand, fundamentally unable to resist the Japanese. However, since Dong Ge was severely injured by them, this account must be settled."

  Liu Zhensheng said, "The Japanese took advantage of my absence from the martial arts hall to come and provoke me. This account must be settled, but we cannot act rashly. We must plan carefully for the long term. Ah, Mr. Nong, what about that Chen Zhen?"

  "This person is indeed a disciple of Master Huo, and in the past, Huo Yuanjia accepted the entrustment of Tao Chengzhang from the Guangfu Society to take this child as an apprentice. Every week, three days were spent teaching martial arts at his doorstep. This matter was kept confidential and not spread outside. Only I, your master, and Dongge knew about it within the Jingwu Association."

  Liu Zhensheng suddenly realized and said, "So that's how it is! No wonder his Mysterious Fist was so authentic. Since he's a fellow disciple, I can't just sit back and watch him get into trouble. Mr. Nong, I'll go after him right away!"

  Having said that, he got up and went out the door, heading straight for the Hongkou Arena.

  ……

  Hongkou belongs to the Waibaidu Bridge area of Shanghai, where Japanese people have been living since thirty years ago. Today, there are already tens of thousands of Japanese people gathered here. On the streets, you can see small Japanese-style bars everywhere, and Japanese women wearing kimonos and wooden sandals walking in small steps are also a common sight. It is often referred to as "Little Tokyo".

  The Hongkou Dojo is a Japanese-run kendo hall, open only to Japanese nationals, with Chinese people strictly prohibited from entering. In fact, honest and decent Japanese people do not come here either; most of those who frequent this place are ronin with long swords stuck in their belts.

  A tall young man in a suit, holding a wooden sign, got off the rickshaw and walked to the entrance of Hongkou Stadium, slightly bowing his head to the gatekeeper: "I'm here."

  The gatekeeper saw that he was elegant and restrained in his demeanor, with steady steps, and knew that he was a practitioner's son. He also bowed and returned the courtesy: "I am Ha Want!"

  Chen Zikong entered the Hongkou Dojo with a dignified manner, this is a typical Japanese-style courtyard, mainly made of wood, with ponds and lawns in the yard, the road is paved with white stones, several cherry blossom trees stand in the courtyard.

  Chen Zikun walked to the corridor, took off his leather shoes and arranged them neatly, revealing a pair of worn-out socks with toes exposed. He didn't feel embarrassed at all, held the signboard and pushed open the sliding door, entered the inner room, knelt down and loudly said in Japanese: "Sumimasen!"

  Twenty kendo students wearing white karate uniforms were seated on both sides, listening intently to the teacher's lecture. Upon hearing his voice, forty pairs of eyes suddenly turned towards him.

  When he saw the unexpected guest coming in, the teacher stopped his lecture and stared at him with a gloomy gaze, scolding: "Ba Ga, what's your business?"

  Chen Zikong lowered his head and said respectfully: "Your Excellency has forgotten something, I have come to return it to its rightful owner."

  The teacher said: "Oh? What thing?"

  Chen Zikun brought out the sign under his armpit, with four white characters "East Asia Sick Man", particularly eye-catching.

  The teacher was furious: "You're not Japanese!"

  Chen Zikong stood up, his head almost hitting the roof. He curled his lip in disdain and said, "Fool, are there any Japanese people as tall as me?"

  The teacher felt insulted: "Who are you?"

  "Jingwu Hui Chen Zhen!"

  This stirred up a hornet's nest, and the students from both sides rushed forward, shouting and screaming. Chen Zikun swung his signboard and knocked down the first three people in front of him, then kicked one person flying with a side kick, and knocked down two more behind them. He charged forward like a tiger entering a flock of sheep, his legs alternating left and right as he unleashed the ultimate move of the Foshan Wuyin Foot. These students were on average less than 1.6 meters tall, and in front of Chen Zikun's towering figure, they were like children who couldn't withstand a blow. From time to time, someone would fly out, and the wooden bars and cardboard houses would be knocked into disarray. They were no match for Chen Zikun, and they retreated in disorder.

  The teacher, who had been sitting still for a long time, finally lost his temper and was about to stand up when Chen Zikun suddenly kicked him with a flying leg. He couldn't block it and was kicked back repeatedly until he crashed into the screen and fell to the ground in disarray.

  Chen Zikun walked over, wagging his finger and saying: "You remember this, the title of 'Sick Man of East Asia' does not belong to us Chinese."

  Suddenly, a loud howl was heard from behind, and when I turned my head to look, more than ten swordsmanship students rushed over with wooden swords in hand. It turned out that they hadn't run away in fright, but had gone to fetch their weapons instead.

  Chen Zikun didn't dare to slack off, and snatched a wooden sword to fight them. He used the authentic Wudang Swordsmanship, with one move countering ten, effortlessly and smoothly. His movements were like flowing clouds and water, and the group of short men were beaten by him until they lost their helmets and armor, and fled in disarray.

  Chen Zikun was somewhat puzzled. With the level of these people, it seems unlikely that they could have smashed Jingwu into such a mess.

  Suddenly, a group of rough-looking ronin appeared out of nowhere, rushing towards them. Unlike the swordsmen in their white robes and black hakama uniforms, these men wore their own personal kimonos, each one different from the others in color and pattern. They were also much older, mostly in their twenties or thirties, and instead of wooden swords, they wielded gleaming long knives.

  Chen Zikun was frightened. He wasn't three-headed and six-armed, and the gunshot wound on his arm hadn't healed yet. What could he use to deal with these hooligans?

  Without saying another word, he turned his head and ran away. The gang of thugs shouted loudly as they chased after him. The sword master wiped the fresh blood from the corner of his mouth and finally smiled with relief: "These bastards from the Black Dragon Society, it's about time you showed up."

  In less than three seconds, the bastards of Heilong will all retreated back, still holding their long knives tightly in their hands, but their momentum was not as arrogant as before.

  Then Chen Zikong walked in with two shotguns in his hands and a smile on his face.