activa-t Chapter 62 I Investigate Myself
Chapter 62 I Investigate Myself
As Sun Youfu spoke, he secretly glanced at Zhou Xing.
He thought to himself: Li Wenyong is now an inspector from Annam, a big shot in the French Concession, but even he has to be careful to ask Lao Zhou for advice.
Just how powerful is this guy?
He swallowed hard and continued, "This Reno specifically requested that the most capable and knowledgeable personnel be drawn from the various police stations in the French Concession. He said they need to be assembled within three days."
Inspector Li asked me to ask you about this matter... what are our procedures?
Is he trying to get someone recommended by the Chinese police in the foreign concession, or what? Captain Reno wants people; we need an explanation.”
Zhou Xing listened, drank a bowl of soup, and tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table.
Renault... a seasoned veteran of the colony, transferred to the concession to become a police detective.
Such a person is experienced, has keen intuition, and can solve any case; they must have some extraordinary skills.
Although he was confident that he had not left any clues, there are no secrets in the world. In particular, if the other party mobilized the resources of the colonial system to investigate in detail, it was hard to guarantee that clues would not be pulled out from some unexpected corners.
He picked up the last bit of meat from the jar, ate it slowly and deliberately, put down his chopsticks and bowl, wiped his hands and mouth with a towel, and looked at Sun Youfu:
"Tell Li Wenyong to report my name. I'll join the search team."
Sun Youfu was taken aback: "Old Zhou, what's going on...?"
Zhou Xing didn't explain, but simply picked up the warm Zhigu sorghum liquor and took a sip.
The spicy liquid rolled down my throat.
"Check yourself."
He silently repeated to himself, a smirk playing on his lips, "Sorry, I'm an undercover agent."
After a few rounds of drinks, Zhou Xing looked at the sky and called the waiter to settle the bill.
The waiter started clicking away on his abacus:
"A carp caught in a net costs 1.2 yuan, braised cuttlefish costs 0.8 yuan, stir-fried shrimp costs 1 yuan, braised pork belly and braised pork in a net cost 0.5 yuan each, and a bowl of white rice costs 0.2 yuan..."
That's five dollars and five cents in total. I'll round it down to five dollars.
Zhou Xing counted out five silver dollars from his wallet and placed them on the table with a clinking sound.
Sun Youfu watched from the side, and did some mental calculations. This meal was roughly equivalent to two months' worth of grain for an average family of three.
As soon as I stepped out of Dengying Tower, the sunlight on the street was dazzling.
Zhou Xing said to Sun Youfu, "Old Sun, you go back first. I'll be there later."
Sun Youfu agreed and turned to merge into the crowd.
Zhou Xing stood on the street for a while, went to the fruit shop and bought two boxes of steamed cakes, then went to the tea shop and bought a packet of sachets, as well as some incense, candles and paper money, before heading to the Guo family's house.
The alley where the Guo family lived was quieter than usual.
The black lacquered gate was ajar, and the plaque above the gate that read "Zhenwei Martial Arts School" was covered with a layer of dust. The disciples who used to gather there were no longer there.
Zhou Xing knocked on the door knocker. There were footsteps inside, and Guo Zhen's eldest disciple opened the door, his eyes red and swollen.
"Master Zhou." The disciple stepped aside to let him in.
The courtyard was also quieter than usual.
The blue brick floor was swept clean, but some miscellaneous items that hadn't been tidied up were piled up in the corner.
The main hall door was open, and faint sobbing could be heard from inside. Several disciples dressed in mourning clothes knelt on straw mats, and in the middle sat a white wooden coffin that had not yet been painted, emitting the smell of new wood and lime.
The altar wasn't fully set up; there was only an incense burner with three sticks of incense sticks sticking out, the smoke rising straight up.
The funeral hall was hastily prepared, revealing a sense of haste and sorrow.
Madam Guo, Wang Yun, came out from the side room.
She changed into a plain white shirt, her hair was loosely tied up with a silver hairpin, her face was pale, her eyes were red, but her back was straight.
"Master Zhou." She curtsied, her voice a little hoarse.
"Madam Guo, please accept my condolences." Zhou Xing handed the items to the disciple beside him and cupped his hands in a gesture of respect.
Wang Yun led him to sit down in the side room.
The room was simply furnished with an eight-immortal table, a few chairs, and a painting titled "Tiger Descending the Mountain" hanging on the wall. It was by Guo Zhen, with its ink flowing freely and the tiger exuding a fierce and imposing presence.
"I just brought Shoucheng back this morning."
Wang Yun poured Zhou Xing a glass of water. "We haven't had time to prepare anything yet. Please excuse the poor quality, Master Zhou."
"Master Guo is a hero."
Looking at the tiger painting, Zhou Xing slowly said, "Although I've only met him a few times, I know he's a straightforward person, loyal, tough, and upright."
Wang Yun's eyes reddened again. She lowered her head and pressed hard on the corner of her eye with her finger.
"Master Zhou,"
When she looked up again, her eyes were glistening with tears, but she bit her lip to keep them from falling. "Thank you for avenging Shoucheng."
She took a breath, her voice becoming more steady:
"Shoucheng may seem careless, but he's actually very meticulous. Over the years, he's never said a harsh word to me."
In winter, when I practice boxing and sweat, I always change into clean clothes in the outer room before coming in, afraid of catching a chill.
She paused, looking out the window at the empty courtyard:
"Shoucheng is gone, and I really... don't want to live anymore. I'm thinking of going with him; it'll be cleaner that way."
But looking at this martial arts school, and at these few disciples who haven't even graduated yet, Shoucheng has poured half his life's effort into this place.
If I leave too, this brand will truly fall apart. I'll be letting my master down, I'll be letting him down.
Zhou Xing was silent for a moment, then said, "If Madam thinks this way, Master Guo in heaven will be pleased. If the martial arts school encounters any difficulties in the future, please feel free to come to me."
He had sensed from Wang Yun's eyes that she might be contemplating suicide, and since he had inherited Guo Zhen's obsession, he naturally couldn't just sit idly by.
Since Madam Guo can figure it out herself, that's for the best.
He was preparing to take his leave.
Wang Yun then looked at Zhou Xing, wiped her eyes, and suddenly said:
"Master Zhou, I have a favor to ask."
"Please speak, Madam."
"Shoucheng's big spear..."
Wang Yun looked at the lone white waxwood spear on the weapon rack by the training ground. "Could you practice with it for a bit? Let me take another look."
She looked at Zhou Xing with earnest eyes:
"I know this request is presumptuous. But today at the meeting, when you stabbed Wu Liuzhi to death with your backhand, although the moves were different, that force seemed to remind me of Shoucheng."
Zhou Xing was slightly taken aback.
He hadn't expected this woman, who knew nothing of martial arts, to have such keen senses.
Indeed, that "returning spear" that combined Liu Yi's hand form, the fake Guo Zhen's momentum, and the real Guo Zhen's intent, with its unstoppable spirit, originated from the same source as the spear intent that Guo Zhen had honed.
Living together day and night, with hearts and minds intertwined, perhaps one can truly transcend the superficiality of techniques and reach the soul-like essence of the matter.
"it is good."
Zhou Xing got up.
He walked to the weapons rack and grasped the large spear.
Start with a solid foundation.
The areas on the ash wood that have been rubbed by hands for years have developed a dark, glossy patina, radiating a warmth akin to body heat.
The gun trembled slightly, as if sensing something, and emitted a very faint buzzing sound, like a sob.
This spear, in the unwavering understanding conveyed by Guo Zhenhu's tally, had already been wielded countless times.
Holding it in my hand now, it feels as if we are connected by blood.
Good gun!
Zhou Xing walked into the courtyard carrying his gun. Several disciples kneeling at the altar heard the commotion and quietly looked over.
He stood still, holding the gun in both hands, the buttstock against his waist. He closed his eyes, and the "Fish-Catching Strength" flowed slowly through him.
Breathing rises and falls, long, fine, and even.
With each breath, the pores open and close slightly, and the body steams with heat, which then condenses into a faint white vapor in the cool autumn breeze.
The breathing technique was taken a step further at the discussion, with increasingly more casual control over pores.
Between the waist and abdomen, near the kidneys, a surge of vital energy, eager to be unleashed, rises and falls with the rhythm of breathing.
The hidden strength in these areas needs to be broken through.