Master of Chinese Martial Arts: I Can Steal the Skills of a Grandmaster from the Republic of China E

Chapter 36 A Chance Encounter

Zhou Xing didn't keep them in suspense, and said meaningfully:

"You are a guest from the south, so there are some things I cannot say. I am just a nobody, so I need to find someone to help me."

Ip Man's eyes flickered slightly:

"The Gong family?"

"That's right. Master Gong is a grandmaster of martial arts in the North. If he were to intervene, it would be perfectly legitimate. You were invited by him, so there's no reason for him not to help."

Zhou Xing paused for a moment, then continued, "Moreover, Master Gong is devoted to the country and has a broad vision that extends to the world. He is a true master."

If this matter can be verified, it's not just about one person or one faction; it's about the very foundation of our martial arts world. He won't stand idly by.

Ip Man stared at him for a long time before saying:

"You've considered everything. Seeing how weak and anemic you are today, I know these things must have been difficult. You've helped me again."

"It's not entirely for you,"

Zhou Xing smiled. "The charity is also my rival."

Ip Man stood up and paced around the courtyard, locust leaves falling onto his shoulder.

"When are we going?" he asked.

"Now."

Zhou Xing also stood up. "The sooner the better. The meeting is in seven days, we don't have time to wait."

Ip Man stopped and turned to look at him:

You have injuries.

"He won't die."

Zhou Xing stretched his shoulders. "Your Qi and blood have been replenished. The skin and flesh injuries will heal in a couple of days."

Ip Man looked at him, suddenly smiled, and shook his head:

"With your temperament... well, go change your clothes and get ready. You can't look too shabby when you see Master Gong."

Zhou Xing looked down at his gray clothes and nodded: "Okay."

He turned to leave, but Ip Man called him back.

"Zhou Xing" (周行).

"Um?"

Thanks.

Ip Man said, his voice was not loud, but every word was clear.

Zhou Xing waved his hand, didn't turn around, and went straight into the house.

Upstairs, Zhang Pinyou was already awake, huddled by the bed. When she saw Zhou Xing come in, she hurriedly stood up.

"Brother Zhou..."

Looking at his miserable appearance, Zhou Xing realized that he had eaten his fill and had forgotten about the boy.

Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he remembered the connection to the Gong family. He stared at Zhang Pinyou thoughtfully.

Zhang Pinyou felt a little uneasy under the gaze and stammered:

"Brother Zhou, what's wrong...?"

"Your uncle is Zhang Fei, the warlord of Northeast China."

Zhou Xing asked, "Do you know the martial arts master from Kanto, Master Gong Baotian?"

"Gong Baotian?"

Zhang Pinyou was taken aback. "I've met him once. He's somewhat acquainted with my uncle. What's wrong?"

"Pack your things and come out with me."

Zhou Xing nodded. This kid is still somewhat useful; let's give Old Master Gong a little more credit.

"Where to?"

"Meet a few people."

Zhou Xing pulled a nearly new dark blue long gown from under the bed, put it on, and straightened the collar in front of the tattered mirror.

"If you want to live, if you want to go home, listen to me."

Zhang Pinyou nodded repeatedly.

Zhou Xing then took out two more silver dollars and tossed them to him:

"Go downstairs and find the shopkeeper. Buy yourself a decent set of clothes. You have fifteen minutes."

Zhang Pinyou took the money, her eyes a little red. After a long pause, she managed to utter:

"Brother Zhou, I... I will definitely repay you in the future!"

"Let's live first and talk about it later."

Zhou Xing waved his hand and shooed him out the door.

The room fell silent.

Zhou Xing stood by the window, looking at the street scene below.

A vendor selling candied hawthorns walked by carrying a straw target, a rickshaw puller sped along with his passengers, and steam rose from the breakfast stalls.

……

The sun had already risen in the street, shining warmly on people's backs.

Zhou Xing followed Ip Man into the alley, his footsteps landing silently on the blue bricks.

Zhang Pinyou sat next to him, her new silk jacket rustling softly, a fine layer of sweat on her forehead.

At the end of the alley was a high wall with a black, closed door.

Ip Man stopped in front of the door and raised his hand to knock on the door knocker. The brass ring struck the wooden door three times.

There was no movement inside.

After about half a cigarette's worth of time, the door finally opened a crack. An old servant squinted and looked him over.

"Oh, it's Master Ip."

The old servant chuckled, "A rare guest."

"Please inform Master Gong that Ip Man has come to visit him."

The old servant nodded: "Master Ye, please wait a moment."

The door closed again.

After about half a cup of tea's time, the door reopened.

This time, Gong Er came out in person, wearing a light purple cheongsam with a moon-white vest over it.

She saw Ip Man and smiled slightly: "Master Ip."

His gaze swept over Zhou Xing, lingering on his face. "Mr. Zhou is here too."

Zhou Xing clasped his hands in thanks: "Thank you very much to the Gong family for the knife; it saved my life."

Gong Er looked at him and said only, "A knife is inanimate, but a person is alive. If you can save a life, that's your own skill."

Zhou Xing shook his head: "Without this knife, perhaps Miss Gong wouldn't be seeing me today. I will remember this kindness."

Gong Er said no more and stepped aside to let him in.

The three entered the gate. It was a courtyard house with a spacious courtyard, and in the middle was a large vat containing several red carp.

The curtains in the main room were hanging down, and faint voices could be heard coming from inside.

The thought had barely crossed Zhou Xing's mind when Gong Er led them toward the west wing:

"My father is currently meeting with guests to discuss some matters related to the symposium. Please have a seat, Master Ye."

The west wing was simple, with a table and four chairs. A character for "quiet" hung on the wall, its ink color seeping into the paper.

Just as they sat down, the curtain rustled, and two people walked out from the main room one after the other.

Zhou Xing looked up and his heart skipped a beat.

The one in front, with a ruddy complexion, wearing a silk mandarin jacket, strides with a wide stride.

It was indeed "Guo Zhen"!

What is he doing here?

Zhou Xing's back tensed instantly, but his face remained completely still.

Today, the original intention was to set up a pretext for dealing with "Guo Zhen" at the Gong family's place.

To my utter surprise, the person in question was actually in the palace!

It's like trying to ambush someone in the dark, only to stumble right into their lair.

Guo Zhen had already spotted them, his eyes lit up, and he quickly came over: "Master Ye! Oh my, what a coincidence!"

He then looked at Zhou Xing, his smile widening even more enthusiastically, "Young Brother Zhou! You've come too!"

Zhou Xing clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Master Guo."

His voice was calm, but he was wondering what this person was up to, standing right in front of him.

On the surface, there were no obvious flaws. If it weren't for the spiritual connection indicated by the token, he wouldn't have noticed the problem either.

We need to find a way to test the waters.

"And who is this?" Guo Zhen asked, looking at Zhang Pinyou.

"Friend," Zhou Xing said.

Guo Zhen laughed and didn't ask any further questions.

The man behind him was sizing up Zhou Xing, his eyes like scales, weighing his weight.

The man was in his early thirties, with high cheekbones and thin lips. He wore a short, royal blue silk jacket. The material was new, but the cut was awkward, and the loose threads on the cuffs hadn't been properly wrung out.

"This is Master Zhao Debiao of Yanqingquan."

Guo Zhen introduced, with a hint of pride in his tone, "Our ancestors performed for Emperor Daoguang, a legitimate family that received imperial recognition."

Zhao Debiao straightened his chest, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said somewhat stiffly, "Master Ye, I've heard so much about you."

He turned to Zhou Xing, "You're Zhou Xing, Master Ye's newly accepted disciple? I heard you broke through the Ming Jin realm in just seven days?"

Zhou Xing glanced at him:

"luck."

"luck?"

Zhao Debiao chuckled, "My Yanqing Fist emphasizes 'ten years of honing a sword,' enduring the coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer, sweat pouring down until it shatters into eight pieces. And you, you think you've mastered it in seven days?"

He glanced at Ip Man. "Could it be that someone made up a story to fool people in order to gain fame?"

Zhou Xing didn't respond.

He glanced at the calluses on Zhao Debiao's tiger's mouth; they weren't thick. Then he looked at the taut new silk jacket; loose threads were still hanging from it.

His strength is only at the Ming Jin level, which is not bad, but it's not outstanding in this area.

With a quick thought, Zhou Xing understood the situation.

He knew about Yanqingquan; it used to be a powerful force, but it had declined in the last two or three decades, and was almost unknown in the Tianjin martial arts scene.

This Zhao Debiao is probably a down-on-his-luck man who lives off his ancestors' reputation but can't support himself.

Any turmoil in the martial arts world could squeeze its living space.

As for why he was being targeted, Zhou Xing sneered inwardly.

Ip Man's Southern Kung Fu spread to the North, which annoyed many people.

Given the current situation, since the meeting is being held at the Gong family residence, it's quite clear which faction these two belong to.

Guo Zhen's faction is trying to curry favor with Ip Man, and behind Zhao Debiao are probably those who can't sit still.

These people don't take the lead themselves; they just pick on people like Zhao Debiao who want to save face but have no substance, to use as pawns.

It is both disgusting Ip Man and an expression of dissatisfaction with the Gong family.

If you give him a glimmer of hope to revive his family's fortunes, he'll dare to forge ahead.

By belittling himself as "Ip Man's genius disciple," he was slapping Ip Man in the face—a safe way to demonstrate his loyalty.

"Are they taking me for a fool?"

Having figured this out, Zhou Xing made up his mind. He picked up his teacup and slowly took a sip.

Seeing his attitude, Zhao Debiao's face darkened:

"I heard Brother Zhou is getting a good job at the police station?"

"Just trying to make a living."

"oh,"

Zhao Debiao drawled, "The foreign concession police are the foreigners' favorites. No wonder they look down on us country bumpkins."

That was a harsh remark. The air in the room froze.

Guo Zhen quickly tried to smooth things over:

"Master Zhao is joking. Brother Zhou is a member of the government and also belongs to the martial arts world."

"The martial arts world?"

Zhao Debiao sneered, "I've never heard of martial arts practitioners working for foreigners. They've completely disgraced our ancestors!"

Zhou Xing raised his eyes, stared at Zhao Debiao for a full three breaths, and then spoke:

"Master Zhao's ancestors performed for the emperor, bringing glory to his family."

Zhao Debiao raised his chin even higher:

"That's right!"

"And what about Master Zhao now?"

Zhou Xing asked slowly, "Where will you be performing?"

Zhao Debiao's face changed instantly:

"What do you mean?!"

"It doesn't mean anything."

Zhou Xing said calmly, "I just feel that since Master Zhao is so concerned about the old family's reputation, why doesn't he go and earn a new reputation for himself?"

Instead, you're here, staring at other people's bowls and complaining that they're not shiny enough?

"You fucking!"

Zhao Debiao stood up abruptly, his finger almost poking Zhou Xing's nose. "A foreigner's dog dares to lecture me?!"

Zhou Xing looked at that furious, distorted face, put down his teacup, and the bottom of the bowl hit the table with a soft "ding".

He slowly stood up.