leonardwarren Chapter 151 The Decapitation Operation of a Grandmaster of Internal Energy
Chapter 151 The Decapitation Operation of a Grandmaster of Internal Energy
Chapter 152 The Decapitation Operation of a Grandmaster of Internal Energy
The late spring cold snap in Beiping always had an inexplicable and eerie quality.
Even though the weeping willows on Qianmen Street had already sprouted tender, pale yellow buds, as soon as the northwest wind blew, carrying yellow sand and ice shards from outside the Great Wall, it could freeze the merchants wearing only a single layer of clothing so much that they would shrink into tiny shrimps.
That morning, on the street outside Liulichang, the stall selling douzhi (fermented mung bean juice) had just set up its large pot. The grayish-green broth was bubbling in the pot, steaming with a sour yet comforting heat.
Several rickshaw pullers squatted on benches, slurping up the scalding hot soy milk with a loud slurping sound, while eating a plate of spicy pickled vegetable shreds.
"Extra number, extra number!"
A young newsboy, carrying a faded canvas satchel, swung his thin legs and ran swiftly across the cobblestone path, waving a newspaper that still reeked of pungent ink, his voice splitting in the morning mist.
"A shocking case in Tianjin: bloodshed at Dengying Tower, Japanese ronin beheaded! Master Lu, the pride of Chinese martial arts, single-handedly stirs up trouble in the foreign concessions—!"
That shout was like pouring a ladle of ice water into a pot of boiling oil.
The entire street outside Qianmen instantly erupted in excitement.
"Give me one."
"Here, I'll take one too. Keep the change!"
The rickshaw pullers didn't even bother to drink their soy milk. They wiped the oil stains on their trouser legs, pulled out two warm copper coins from their pockets, grabbed the newspapers, and huddled together to read them.
Even the Manchu nobles who used to walk around with their birds in cages and the school teachers in their long gowns abandoned their usual reserve and craned their necks to look at the newspapers.
The newspaper used obscure language, often replacing words with "a certain association" or "a certain wandering knight" to avoid scrutiny from foreign consulates.
But which of the people in Beijing doesn't know the truth?
"Good, well done, that was fucking satisfying."
A shirtless blacksmith slapped his thigh, his eyes reddening with excitement.
"Boss Lu from Beiping was a true tyrant."
"A single white waxwood pole was used to sabotage the traitor's lavish banquet of a hundred tables, and even chopped down those arrogant Japanese dwarfs. It was a satisfying way to vent our anger."
"Shh, keep your voice down, didn't you see what's written on the back?"
"Master Lu is currently trapped in the French Concession of Tianjin. The foreign police and the Japanese military police have completely surrounded the National Hotel, and even the theater has been sealed off."
The ordinary people on the streets were both happy and worried, but deep within the martial arts world of Beiping, this storm had already stirred up a raging torrent.
West City, Taiping Bridge.
Inside the Simin Martial Arts Club, the main door was tightly shut, and even the windows were covered with thick cotton curtains, so that not a breath of wind or a ray of light could get through.
Inside the room was a huge bronze brazier, with fine silver charcoal burning red-hot, emitting no smoke, making the spacious inner room warm and cozy.
But the faces of the people sitting inside were even colder than the cold wind outside.
In the center of the room, on a grand chair, sat a thin old man dressed in a gray Taoist robe.
He was holding a large, rough porcelain bowl, which contained not tea, but extremely strong baijiu (a type of Chinese liquor).
He was Shang Yunxiang, the founder of the Shang School of Xingyi Quan, a grandmaster of Huajin (a type of martial arts technique), and known as the "Iron-Legged Buddha".
Sitting opposite him was Old Master Han, whose complexion had regained some rosiness, but still showed signs of fatigue from recovering from a serious illness.
Baguazhang master Gong Yu and Li Sanye from the Iron Fist School were also lined up on both sides.
Any one of these individuals could be a figure who could establish a school of martial arts in Beiping and be hailed as an ancestor by others.
"Bang."
Shang Yunxiang slammed the large, rough porcelain bowl heavily onto the mahogany table, causing the wine inside to splash everywhere.
"Good lad, that was satisfying!"
Shang Yunxiang's round, old face was now filled with undisguised arrogance. He slapped his thigh, the sound like a booming bell, causing dust to fall from the roof.
"I saw long ago that Lu Cheng was no ordinary person. His very being possesses the 'True Intent of the White Tiger' and the 'Bloodthirsty Spirit,' and in the treacherous den of Tianjin, at the confluence of the nine rivers, he'll be like a dragon swimming in the vast ocean."
"Single-handedly, with a broken stick, he leveled the hundred-table banquet at Dengyinglou, smashed the head of that traitor Ma San, and also wiped out the Japanese assassins at Hongkou Dojo, rescuing Junior Brother Liu and the others unharmed."
Shang Yunxiang's eyes flashed with a sharp light, and his beard and hair stood on end.
"We old bones have practiced boxing all our lives and suffered humiliation all our lives. In the end, we have a kid in his early twenties who has straightened the backbone of the martial arts world for us."
"This bowl of wine is a toast to Lu Cheng!"
After saying that, he picked up the large bowl again, tilted his head back, and gulped it down in one go. He wiped his mouth with his rough sleeve and exclaimed how satisfying it was.
The atmosphere inside the room was ignited at that moment.
Master Li was also beaming.
"Master Lu is truly a divine being."
"I heard from my informant in Tianjin that Master Lu, at the Haihe River docks, used his 'flying flower and plucking leaf' skill to shoot through a squad of heavily armed Japanese military police with just a dozen copper coins."
"Such skills are simply the work of a martial arts immortal descended to earth!"
However, amidst this exhilarating excitement, the usually silent and composed Grandpa Gong Yu slowly put down the covered bowl in his hand.
"Elder Shang, Master Li, you really vented your anger."
Gong Yu's voice was like a bucket of cold water poured on a blazing charcoal fire.
His old eyes were as deep as wells, and his brows were furrowed into a deep frown.
"Master Lu's outburst certainly tore off the faces of the Japanese and traitors and trampled them underfoot, but he also completely backed himself into a dead end."
Gong Yu stood up, walked to the window, gently lifted a gap in the cotton curtain, and looked at the gloomy sky outside.
"Tianjin is not like Beiping."
"There are nine foreign concessions there, it's a country within a country for foreigners. No matter how skilled Master Lu is, no matter how hard his fists are, can they withstand the foreigners' powerful ships and cannons?"
Upon hearing this, the atmosphere in the room instantly fell silent.
Grandpa Han coughed twice, clutched his chest, and nodded bitterly.
"Junior Brother Gong is right. This morning I received an urgent telegram from Junior Brother Liu, who secretly sent it from the Qing Gang branch in Tianjin."
"Brother Lu was blocked on the Haihe River by the French Concession's patrol battalion while covering their retreat."
"Do you know who's leading this team?"
Grandpa Han looked around at everyone, a deep sense of powerlessness flashing in his eyes.
"It was an inland gunboat flying the French flag."
"What's mounted on that is a 120mm naval gun and four heavy machine guns."
Dead silence.
A suffocating silence.
Shang Yunxiang's face, which had been flushed from drinking strong liquor, slowly darkened, and a rare look of seriousness appeared in his fierce, tiger-like eyes.
"gunboat----"
Shang Yunxiang muttered to himself, his calloused hands, which had once unleashed a powerful punch that created a shockwave, trembling slightly.
The old monsters present were all grandmasters who had reached the pinnacle of internal strength, or even had one foot in or had already stepped into the realm of internal strength transformation.
They know all too well where the limits of martial arts lie.
"The cicadas sense the autumn wind before it blows; the way of utmost sincerity can lead to foresight."
This is the life-saving trump card of a master of internal energy transformation.
Within seven steps, or even dozens of steps, if a gunman is aiming at them, the moment the killing intent is revealed, the pores of their bodies can instantly sense the danger, allowing them to take evasive action a fraction of a second before the bullet is fired.
Therefore, Lu Cheng was able to dodge the sniper rifle on the second floor and avoid the barrage of dozens of rifles.
But----
Those are naval guns, damn it.
"There's no escaping it—"
Gong Yu sighed deeply, turned around and walked back to her seat, as if she had aged ten years in an instant.
"A musket bullet travels along a straight line. If you anticipate it and are fast enough, you can avoid that trajectory."
"But the cannon—that's a piece of dough."
"When a shell lands, the area within a hundred paces becomes a sea of fire, a deadly net woven from shrapnel and shockwaves. Not to mention people, even a rocky mountain would be flattened."
"Faced with that absolute destructive power, what use are your keen senses and agile movements? Can you instantly teleport a hundred paces away? Can you use your flesh and blood to block the thousands of degrees of heat and the shrapnel tearing through the air?"
Gong Yu's words were piercing, yet each one was a stark reality.
This is the end times, this is the cruel reality of firearms crushing cold weapons.
You've trained hard for sixty years, enduring the coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer, until your internal organs are as strong as iron and your inner energy radiates outwards. But a foreigner only needs to pull the breechblock lightly to turn all your decades of hard work into a lump of minced meat.
This is why so many reclusive masters of the Dantian realm and the Huajin realm prefer to hide in the deep mountains and forests to cultivate diligently rather than easily step into the mortal world.
It's not that they lack courage, but that this era no longer belongs to pure warriors.
"Could it be—could we just stand by and watch Master Lu be trapped and die in Tianjin?"
In his anxiety, Third Master Li slammed his hand on the table, the iron gall bladder creaking in his hand.
"Grandmaster Lu is the benefactor of our martial arts world in Beiping, the only person we can hold up right now! If he falls to the muzzle of the foreigners' cannons, how will we old bones face our ancestors?"
"No!"
Shang Yunxiang suddenly stood up, and his short frame suddenly exuded an aura as heavy as a mountain.
"In my life, I, Shang Yunxiang, have never been a coward."
"Old Han, Old Gong, and the rest of you."
Shang Yunxiang's gaze swept over everyone present like a burning torch.
"That kid Lu Cheng is a martial star who has been blessed by heaven. His incredible internal strength and transformative power are the fruits that Chinese martial arts have only produced in hundreds of years."
"The vitality and blood of us old folks are starting to decline."
"No matter how much you practice, you'll only ever reach the Transformation Realm in this lifetime. Whether you can even touch the threshold of the Embracing the Elixir Realm depends on whether fate smiles upon you."
"But Lu Cheng is different!"
Ya Yunxiang's voice was impassioned, carrying a sense of artistic determination.
"He's only in his early twenties. He has solid skills, a good character, and a strong sense of righteousness. He is the future ceiling of our martial arts world and the only person who has the potential to break through the void and become indestructible."
"We can't let him die. If he dies, the future of Chinese martial arts will truly be over."
"I've made up my mind."
Ya Yunxiang's words, "I lose one meal a day," resonated deeply.
"I want to go to Tianjin."
"Even if those foreigners' cannons can flatten the concession, I'll risk my life to bring Wu Lucheng back safe and sound."
"Arabian, you mustn't!"
Grandpa Han was shocked. Ignoring his injuries, he suddenly stood up from his chair and grabbed Shang Yunxiang's arm.
"You're confused."
"You are now the pillar of our Beiping Chunlin. If you are also involved, Chunlin in Beijing will be completely in disarray."
"9
"Besides, what use would you be? That's the French Concession, Japanese territory. Can you, all by yourself, withstand their guns and cannons?"
Gong Yu also had a stern face and quickly stepped forward to dissuade him.
"Brother Ya, Old Han is right. We must not act rashly in this matter."
"Our old monster, though he can't progress by leaps and bounds like Master Lu, is still at the Transformation Realm, our last trump card to deter the villains in this chaotic world. If we rashly head to Tianjin and are captured like turtles in a jar by the foreigners and warlords, that would be a true catastrophe for Chunlin!"
"In the future war of resistance, we old folks will still need to teach the younger generation to fight the enemy on the battlefield. Our lives cannot be wasted so worthlessly under the guns of foreigners."
Inside the room, two completely different viewpoints clashed fiercely.
On one side is Ya Yunxiang's fighting spirit, willing to sacrifice everything to preserve the flame of martial arts.
On the other side, Han Jinyong and Gong Yu showed forbearance by prioritizing the overall situation and preserving the last vestiges of martial arts.
"So what do you suggest we do?"
Ya Yunxiang was so angry that his tiger-like eyes widened.
"Are we just going to sit here in Beijing drinking tea and waiting? Waiting for the newspapers to report that Lu Cheng was shot dead by foreigners? I can't do that!"
The room fell silent once again.
Only the occasional crackling sound from the charcoal brazier seemed to reflect their inner anxiety.
a long time.
Master Han took a deep breath and slowly released his grip on Ya Yunxiang's hand.
He walked to the shrine where the statue of Guan Sheng Di Jun was enshrined, lit three sticks of incense, and respectfully placed them into the incense burner.
Wisps of smoke rose, blurring his aged face.
"Senior Brother Ya."
When Old Master Han turned around, a glint of light, sharper than a blade and colder than ice, shone in his cloudy old eyes.
That wasn't impulsive anger, but rather the ultimate killing intent born from deep consideration.
"We really can't go to Tianjin and confront the foreigners' cannons head-on."
"But we can't just sit here and wait."
Master Han walked to the table, slammed his hand heavily on the surface, and said, "I'm losing money."
"Brother Lu is performing a grand opera in Tianjin, a lone battle called 'Fighting Taiping'."
"Back in Beiping, let's build him an even bigger stage and put on a show—'Wei Wei Rescues Zhao'!"
Everyone was taken aback.
"Old Han, what do you mean by this?" Ya Yunxiang asked, frowning.
Old Master Han's eyes were filled with murderous intent.
"Why did the foreigners and warlords dare to detain Lu Cheng so arrogantly? Because they thought that Lu Cheng was just a man, a simple man without any power base, and that he would die if he died."
"Then let's show them what kind of crazy people are behind Lu Cheng."
Grandpa Han looked around at everyone.
"wait."
"Let's give Tianjin a deadline."
"By the end of this month."
"If Lu Cheng hasn't safely returned to Beiping by the end of the month—"
Master Han clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Then we don't need to worry about martial arts rules or concession laws anymore."
"Senior Brother Ya, Junior Brother Gong, and this old bone of mine, plus all the other martial arts masters in Beiping who are still breathing and have hidden strength."
"We've mobilized our entire force."
"No fighting in the ring, no open and aboveboard declaration of war."
A cold smile appeared on Han Laoye's lips.
"Let's utilize the skills that Grandmasters of Transformation Realm excel at—"
"Break down the whole into smaller parts and infiltrate the black market."
"Initiate—the decapitation strike!"
Upon hearing this, the temperature in the entire internally hyperactive region seemed to instantly drop to freezing point.
Even Shang Yunxiang, who was always brave and aggressive, couldn't help but gasp in surprise.
A decapitation strike.
The decapitation operation of the Grandmaster of Transformation.
This is the most fearsome method in the Pure Forest, and a terrifying method that is considered taboo by high-ranking officials and warlords of various countries.
A master who can "sense danger and avoid it" and "can injure people with flying flowers and plucked leaves" would completely abandon Chun Sheng and recklessly sneak into the darkness to carry out assassinations.
What a horrific nightmare that would be!
He's annoyed that he doesn't need guns or explosives; he's annoyed that he can get something for you to eat with just a chopstick, a coin, or even a leaf.
While you're sleeping, or even in the bathroom, they silently take your head.
You can protect yourself during the day, but you can't protect yourself from the dark side.
You can defend against a thousand troops, but you can't defend against a ghost that can shrink its body, change its appearance, and leave no trace in the snow!
"Old Han, what do you mean—" Gong Yu swallowed, his voice trembling slightly.
"That's right."
A fierce glint appeared in Master Han's eyes.
"If Lu Cheng were to perish in Tianjin."
"Let's split up and go our separate ways."
"The Japanese consulate in Beiping, the garrison headquarters, those pro-Japanese traitors, and the foreign bosses in the French and British concessions."
"We'll take down everyone involved in this, one by one!"
"They're relying on their guns and cannons, aren't they? Fine, then we won't fight them with guns and cannons."
"We'll be in their bedrooms, in their mansions, making them sleep with one eye open every night! I want every high-ranking foreign official in Beiping and Tianjin to wake up every morning to find the head of one of their trusted confidants beside their pillow!"
"I will use the lives of ten or a hundred high-ranking officials to pay for Lu Cheng's death."
"I will use the bloodiest methods to force them—to become human beings."
"We'll force them to understand that even in the age of firearms, traditional Chinese martial arts are not toys they can manipulate at will!"
crazy.
This is absolutely insane.
This was tantamount to declaring war on all the foreign powers stationed in China, and using extremely corrupt and terrifying methods of intimidation.
Once this plan is implemented, none of these old masters present will survive; they will inevitably be annihilated by the great powers at all costs.
but----
After listening, the shock on Ya Yunxiang's round face gradually faded, replaced by a chilling, maniacal laugh.
"Ha ha ha ha!!!"
"Good, good, Han Jinyong, you truly live up to your reputation as a ruthless character who dared to single-handedly take up a big gun and raid a bandit's den back in the day."
Ya Yunxiang suddenly swung his fist at the table, shattering the teacup.
"This method suits my temperament."
"Don't they believe in the survival of the fittest? Then we'll become the most venomous snakes and the fiercest wolves."
"It's settled then."
Shang Yunxiang surveyed his surroundings, his gaze sharp as a knife.
"The deadline is the end of this month."
"If Lu Chengji doesn't return, I, Ya Yunxiang, will be the first to make a move. I'll go and twist off the head of the Japanese intelligence chief stationed in Beiping and hang it on the Zhengyangmen city tower as a lantern."
Gong Yu remained silent for a long time.
He looked down at his hands, which he had practiced for a lifetime in the art of Guazhang (divination palm) and the art of yin and yang.
Finally, he exhaled a long breath, his eyes becoming more determined than ever before, as if he had unloaded all his burdens.
"That's enough, that's enough."
""
"After clinging to life for so many years, it's time for Old Wu to get a move."
"Count me in."
Gong Yu put his hands behind his back, and a calm and composed demeanor, as if facing death with equanimity, arose spontaneously within him.
"My wanderings are mostly for stealth and sneaking into the French Concession consul's bedroom, which is a way of honoring the ancestor's reputation."
Hearing this from the side, Master Li was filled with fervor, his eyes reddening. He suddenly knelt on one knee, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and shouted, "All fifty of us from the Iron Fist School, skilled in hidden strength techniques, are willing to obey the orders of the three seniors. We will go through fire and water, even unto death, without hesitation!"
.
In this small, cramped inner chamber, murderous intent soared, yet a noble spirit endured.
In a humiliating era when the country was accumulating power and foreign powers were running rampant, this group of old-fashioned, simple people used their most tragic and primitive methods to establish a bloody pact that shocked the world.
For a young man.
For the last vestige of dignity of Chinese martial arts.
They were prepared to drag the invaders down to hell with them.