Quickly conquer the martial arts world, and let your fists dominate the heavens!

Guo Yunshen laughed first.

He laughed heartily, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling together, his white hair fluttering gently in the wind, as if he had unloaded a burden that had lasted for decades, feeling completely relaxed.

"The Great Monument-Smashing Hand!"

He slapped his thigh, his voice booming, "Twenty years ago, I received Dong Haichuan's Great Stele-Smashing Hand technique in Xiling. I've remembered the power of that strike for twenty years, and only today have I felt it again!"

He took two steps forward, grabbed Chen Zhan's wrist tightly, as if afraid he would run away: "Your palm strike was three times more powerful than Dong Haichuan's back then! I've lived for over sixty years, and finally I've met someone who can make me use my Bengquan (a type of fist technique) until I'm old. It's worth it, it's worth it!"

Chen Zhan, his wrist gripped, shook his head with a smile: "Uncle Guo's Half-Step Crushing Fist is truly unparalleled; my Great Stele-Shattering Hand is still lacking."

There's some truth to that statement, and some humility in it.

No one could tell that he had secretly held back a bit of his strength, not even Guo Yunshen himself.

For Guo Yunshen, this was a thoroughly satisfying draw.

He went all out, and his opponent went all out as well. The Bengquan (a type of fist strike) clashed with the Shuaiban (another type of fist strike), and the two fought head-on to a standstill.

He accepted the result gladly, and even hoped for it.

A draw means that his Bengquan (a type of fist technique) was not inferior to Dong Haichuan's unique skill. At over sixty years old, he can still fight to a draw with a young master of Baodan (another type of fist technique). What is there to be dissatisfied about?
The silence lasted for several breaths.

Then cheers erupted from all directions.

"Excellent punches! Excellent palm strikes!"

"That punch and that palm strike could probably blow down the city wall!"

"The Great Stele-Smashing Hand! Dong Haichuan's signature move! He knows it too!"

The disciples were so excited that their faces turned red. Some were stomping their feet, some were clapping, and some were jumping up and down with excitement. The noise from the training ground almost lifted the roof off.

Zhang Dianhua had already stood up again, and the armchair had been moved back to its original position by the waiter. He patted the dust off his body, looked at Guo Yunshen who was holding Chen Zhan's wrist and laughing uncontrollably, and a helpless yet gratified smile appeared on his face.

This old man, over sixty years old, still looks the same.

Cheng Shaojiu's brothers emerged from under the wall, their faces covered in dust and dirt, but filled with the excitement of surviving a disaster.

The fourth brother patted his chest and let out a long sigh of relief: "My god, just now, I thought the whole yard was going to collapse."

The fifth brother rubbed his ears, grinning, and said, "It's still buzzing, like a few bees buzzing around."

Lu Jun stood in the crowd, his hands hanging at his sides, clenching and unclenching repeatedly. His expression was a mix of excitement and shock; his lips moved several times before he finally managed to utter only two words: "Amazing."

Guo Yunshen finally released Chen Zhan's wrist, took a step back, raised his hand in a fist salute to the entire audience, cleared his throat, and shouted in a strong voice:
"Meeting my brothers from Sanshui today is the greatest joy of my life! Gentlemen, bring on the wine!"

Zhang Dianhua chimed in from the side, "The wine is from the escort agency; the money will be deducted from your share."

"Deduct it then!" Guo Yunshen waved his hand dismissively. "Drink!"

The audience burst into laughter.

After a satisfying meal, it was getting late.

Although they had a very pleasant conversation, Chen Zhan still had to take his leave.

Zhang Dianhua tried to persuade him to stay, saying, "Brother Sanshui, if you don't mind, how about becoming the deputy chief镖师 (bodyguard/escort) at Huiyou镖局 (escort agency)? The monthly salary is thirty taels of silver."

The monthly allowance is thirty taels.

This is a huge sum of money. Ordinary police officers in the capital only earn two taels of silver a month, martial arts instructors earn three to five taels at most, and a deputy chief镖头 (bodyguard/escort) earning thirty taels a month is considered the highest salary in the entire martial arts industry in the capital.

However, Chen Zhan is a master of the Dan-forming technique, so this price isn't too high.

If one were to work in the Prince's mansion, one could easily command a price of one hundred or two hundred taels of silver.

But the Prince's mansion and the escort agency are different. Serving in the Prince's mansion means being a servant. You have to kneel and pay respects to high-ranking officials and nobles. Those with the money-rat tail braid are all masters. No matter how good the guards are, they can't skip the rules. They have to kowtow and pay their respects without fail.

What kind of life is it to be the deputy chief镖头 (bodyguard/escort) at a镖局 (bodyguard/escort agency)?
All the bodyguards and escorts treated him with utmost respect, and the head chef addressed him with a respectful "you" at every turn. Wherever he went, people would serve him tea and water, making him feel comfortable and at ease.

Even so, Chen Zhan shook his head.

He kept Cheng Shaojiu and Lu Jun behind; their peak internal strength was more than enough to make them bodyguards at Huiyou Escort Agency. Qin Ming also stayed with them.

Although Zhang Dianhua felt regretful, he didn't say much.

It's normal that a master like Chen Zhan couldn't be kept, just like the imperial palace couldn't keep him and Guo Yunshen. Some people are born to be free spirits and can't be tied down.

Chen Zhan didn't say much. He wouldn't leave the capital for the time being, nor did he plan to build any power. Finding a place for the group to live peacefully for the time being was a good idea.

He clasped his hands in farewell and turned to walk into the night.

It was already completely dark.

The streets of Beijing are much wider and the roads are smoother, with neatly paved bluestone slabs. On both sides are gray-brick and black-tiled houses and shops, with their doors tightly closed, and occasionally one or two lanterns swaying under the door frame.

What's better than Tianjin is that you can hardly see any foreigners on the streets.

Foreigners in Beijing were concentrated in the Dongjiaomin Lane area, which later became the Legation Quarter. They rarely went out, unlike the foreign concessions in Tianjin, where foreigners walked around arrogantly and caused trouble everywhere.

During this period, the Qing government maintained a relatively good control over the capital. The Commander of the Nine Gates was in charge of city defense, and the Infantry Commander's Office was in charge of public security. Although corrupt and inefficient, the facade of grandeur remained, and foreigners did not dare to be too presumptuous.

Chen Zhan didn't keep a braid; he wore a melon-shaped hat to cover his hair and a clean long gown given to him by the Huiyou Escort Agency. He didn't attract much attention as he walked down the street.

The customs and traditions of Beijing are completely different from those of Tianjin; Beijing is more conservative, more disciplined, and more like a microcosm of a feudal dynasty.

Tianjin is a commercial port, and its dock culture has been ingrained for hundreds of years. People from all walks of life live together, and there is a mix of good and bad. There are rules, but they can be broken quickly. Gangs have more influence than government offices.

The capital city is the imperial capital, right under the emperor's nose. The rules are very strict. Everyone has their own way of walking, their rank in their own sedan chair, and their status in their own clothes. Everything is very clear and cannot be confused.

Occasionally, infantrymen patrolling the streets would pass by, carrying lanterns and with knives at their waists, walking with a dragging gait. They would only glance at Chen Zhan and not question him.

After all, it was only 1895, and the capital city had not yet reached the level of panic that would later ensue.

As Chen Zhan walked, his mind sank into his sea of ​​consciousness to check the luck points he had gained after defeating two Nascent Soul stage experts.

Not much.

The exchange with Zhang Dianhua was a friendly sparring session, and the exchange with Guo Yunshen was also a friendly sparring session, and it was all done behind closed doors inside the Huiyou Escort Agency, so outsiders couldn't see it, and the effect of the luck-devouring was not good.

My current luck points are barely enough to cross the boundary, but I can't choose my destination.

He wanted to return to the original timeline of the Republic of China, even if it was later. 1895 was too early, so early that Ye Ningzhen hadn't even been born yet, and Lin Heier was only in her early twenties.

Everything he did in this era was like writing on sand; a gust of wind could flatten it, leaving hardly a trace.

Lost in thought, I continued walking, passing through several streets and alleys, until I unknowingly arrived at the back of a large courtyard. The gray brick wall was a bit higher than that of ordinary houses, with broken porcelain shards embedded in the top to keep out thieves. Two old locust trees grew in the corner, their branches and leaves covering half of the wall.

Light shone faintly from inside the wall. The courtyard was quiet and silent, but Chen Zhan could sense someone moving inside. The footsteps were steady, the steps of someone who had practiced martial arts.

A wooden sign was nailed to the base of the wall, facing the alley, with four characters painted on it: Shunyuan Escort Agency.

Wang Wu's Escort Agency.

It has only been established for a short time, about ten years, but it has already made a name for itself in Beijing.

Shunyuan Escort Agency had very strong connections. Several important figures of the Qing Dynasty's reform movement had connections with Wang Wu, the two closest being Tan Sitong and Yuan Shikai.

Tan Sitong and Wang Wu were close friends. They became fast friends after meeting in the capital. Tan Sitong frequently visited the Shunyuan Escort Agency to exchange martial arts skills and discuss current affairs with Wang Wu. Wang Wu also helped Tan Sitong on many occasions, helping him to build connections in the capital.

Yuan Shikai's relationship with Wang Wu dates back even further. When Yuan Shikai was young, he was active in the Tianjin and Beijing areas and had close ties with people in the martial arts world. Wang Wu helped him with his business and also escorted several important goods for him. The two had a life-or-death friendship.

With these two connections backing them up, Shunyuan Escort Agency thrived in the capital, enjoying respect from both the government and the martial arts world.

Chen Zhan's mind raced.

It was already completely dark by then. The escort agency did not receive guests after dark, as was the rule. The doors were bolted, and the staff had stopped working. Apart from the escorts on night duty and the gatekeepers, everyone else was resting in the backyard.

He didn't intend to go in openly and honestly.

With a slight leap, he lightly touched the broken porcelain shards on the wall with his toes, and flipped over, landing silently in the shadows on the inner side of the courtyard.

He suppressed his aura to the lowest level, channeled his inner energy into his dantian, and reduced his overall presence to the minimum.

With my eyes closed, my ears took over.

There were about twenty or thirty people in the escort agency, scattered in various rooms in the front and back yards. Most of them were already asleep, their breathing even and deep. Occasionally, someone would turn over, and the bed boards would make a "creaking" sound.

Chen Zhan focused his attention on his breathing.

A person's breathing rate can reveal the depth of their martial arts skills.

When a normal person is asleep, they breathe 15 to 20 times per minute and their heart rate is between 60 and 80.

People who have practiced basic external martial arts tend to have a lower breathing rate, around ten breaths per minute, and a slightly slower heart rate.

A master of internal strength breathes more deeply and longer, seven or eight times a minute. Each breath is taken in very deeply, sent to the dantian, and then slowly exhaled, with the heart rate dropping below fifty.

The breathing of a master of internal energy transformation is close to the threshold of fetal breathing, once every one or two minutes. A breath is inhaled and circulated in the body for a long time before being exhaled. When asleep, the heart rate drops to forty or even lower.

In the Embracing the Core Realm, breathing and pulse slow to the extreme, essence and energy are locked in the dantian, the body's consumption is reduced to the minimum, one takes a breath in, it circulates in the dantian a few times, and then slowly exhales after a few minutes, the heart rate drops below thirty.

This is also the secret to the longevity of masters of internal martial arts. They consume less qi and blood, and their internal organs are less burdened. One day of theirs is equivalent to half a day for others, so they naturally live decades longer than ordinary people.

Chen Zhan's ears picked up the breath of everyone in the courtyard, distinguishing them one by one.

The bodyguards in the front yard had a breathing rate of about ten times per minute. They were at the early to mid-stages of internal strength, not experts, but not ordinary people either.

In the eastern wing of the backyard, a person was breathing extremely slowly, taking a deep breath and not exhaling for several minutes, the exchange of breath between the chest and dantian incredibly slow.

He had only ever experienced this breathing rate from a very few top experts.

The Realm of Embracing the Elixir.

Moreover, he was a veteran expert who had been deeply versed in the Dan realm for a long time, and his aura had become so profound that he was on the same level as Zhang Dianhua, or even a step deeper.

There's another one next door to this person.

His breathing was also extremely long, taking two minutes to exhale. When he inhaled, his chest expanded to a great extent, like a slowly turning bellows. Each breath was extremely deep and full, showing that he had truly mastered the inner martial arts.

He has reached the peak of the Transformation Realm, just one step away from the Core Formation Realm.

The two people, one at the Core Formation stage and the other at the peak of the Transformation stage, lived next door to each other and could sense each other's presence even through the walls.

Chen Zhan already knew who it was.

He didn't hide his presence; instead, he deliberately took a few extra steps in the courtyard, his feet making a soft "tap-tap" sound as they landed on the blue bricks.

These two steps are not very significant; for an ordinary person, they could easily cover it up with a simple turn.

But for these two, that's enough.

"Squeak—"

The door to the east wing was suddenly pushed open, and a figure darted out of the room. The figure moved with incredible speed, touching the ground with its toes, twisting in mid-air, and landing steadily in the center of the courtyard.

"Who's in the yard!"

His voice was loud and clear, full of energy, and carried a hint of anger.

A middle-aged man in his forties, with a burly build and broad shoulders, was wearing a white undershirt and gray cloth trousers. He was barefoot and held a single-edged sword in his right hand. The blade was thick and gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Wang Wu, the Great Swordsman.

Unlike when we met at the Fangshan mine, he was dressed in coarse cloth and a straw hat, exuding a江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and chivalry) air.

He was jolted awake from his sleep, his clothes disheveled, and his bare feet on the ground, but his imposing aura remained undiminished. His grip on the knife was both relaxed and tight, the blade slightly lowered, ready to strike at any moment.

Almost at the same instant, the door to the next room was also pushed open.

"Brother Wang, are they thieves?"

The second person came out. He was half a head shorter than Wang Wu, with a lean build. He was around forty years old, with a thin face and round-framed glasses perched on his nose. The lenses glittered in the moonlight.

He was wearing a long blue cloth robe and shoes, apparently he hadn't taken them off when he slept. He held a Bagua knife in each hand, the blades were narrow and long, crescent-shaped, with the blades facing outwards, which were the standard weapons of Baguazhang.

Cheng Tinghua.

He was the most outstanding second-generation successor of Baguazhang, and a prized student of Dong Haichuan. His Cheng-style Baguazhang was unique and his reputation in the martial arts world of Beijing was second only to Yin Fu.

Now that Yin Fu is dead, Cheng Tinghua is the number one master of Baguazhang.

The two men stood in the middle of the courtyard, their four eyes fixed on Chen Zhan, who was standing in the shadows. The moonlight could not reach his face; all that could be seen was a figure wearing a long robe and a melon-shaped hat, standing casually with his hands hanging at his sides, making it impossible to discern his true nature.

Chen Zhan remained silent.

He grinned, and the moonlight shone on his teeth, making them dazzlingly white.

Then, turning and leaping, his toes barely touching the top of the wall, he flipped over the security agency, landing in the alley. With a swift movement, he ran deeper into the street. (End of Chapter)