I achieved mastery of martial arts during the Republic of China era.

Chapter 38 Past Events, Encountering Enemies During a Night Patrol

Zhou's old house.

A rosewood octagonal table was placed in the center of the hall, with a purple copper charcoal stove in the middle of the table. The silver charcoal in the stove was burning brightly, without any visible flames, only a warm red glow.

A wide-rimmed brass pot sat on the stove, its milky-white broth bubbling and steaming, carrying the unique aroma of mutton that permeated the warm, inviting hall.

Grandpa Zhou sat in the main seat, his white hair neatly combed. He held a pair of long chopsticks with silver tips wrapped in ebony, and was picking up a slice of mutton as thin as a cicada's wing from the boiling pot.

The mutton was blanched in the boiling broth for three breaths, turning from bright red to tender white, just right.

Just then, the cotton curtain at the side door of the hall was gently lifted a crack, and Uncle Zhong walked in silently, his body hunched over.

He stopped five steps away from the table, his hands hanging down in front of him. He waited for Old Master Zhou to roll the mutton in the sesame sauce dish, put it in his mouth, chew it slowly, and swallow it before he moved forward a small half step.

"Master," Uncle Zhong's voice was low, as if afraid of disturbing the warmth of the room, "there's new information about young master Zhou Tong."

Grandpa Zhou didn't stop picking up the second slice of mutton, nor did he lift his eyelids. He just hummed in response through his nose, signaling him to continue.

Zhongbo's Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice lowered by three digits, yet every word was clear:

"The young master broke through to the Stone Muscle Realm in just three months. I've also heard that he has developed a unique style for the Dragon Tiger Martial Arts School's 'Dragon Tiger Ruyi Blade,' and its power... surpasses that of ordinary people. Now everyone in the martial arts school is saying that he is a martial arts prodigy."

The tips of the chopsticks paused slightly on the boiling soup.

Uncle Zhong continued, "He was highly regarded by his senior brothers at the martial arts school and was recommended to the police station. Now he's a squad leader at the North City Police Station."

"Thump."

The piece of mutton that had been picked up slipped from the tip of the chopsticks and fell back into the boiling soup pot, splashing up a small drop of oil.

The hall fell silent for a moment, with only the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire and the continuous bubbling of the soup pot.

Grandpa Zhou stared at the piece of mutton floating in the milky white broth, his face expressionless.

He reached out his chopsticks again and steadily picked up the piece of mutton. This time, he didn't dip it in any sauce and put it directly into the white porcelain bowl in front of him.

"Not bad." He said calmly, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "I didn't expect this kid to actually have some talent for martial arts."

He paused, picked up a mouthful of vermicelli and put it into the pot, as if asking casually:

"So, what was the name of that senior classmate he partnered with in business last time...?"

"Ji Chang." Uncle Zhong immediately answered.

"Um."

Grandpa Zhou nodded slightly, his gaze still fixed on the vermicelli in the pot, which was gradually becoming transparent.

"Ji Chang should not dare to have any more wicked thoughts. Their newly opened business has been saved."

After saying that, he calmly picked up the rice noodles, put them in his mouth with a small mouthful of rice, and chewed them carefully.

It was as if what I had just heard was nothing more than a trivial matter.

After swallowing his food, Old Master Zhou put down his chopsticks and looked out into the hall through the rising steam.

The wind howled outside, swirling through the sparse branches in the courtyard.

He watched quietly, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

After a long while, he gently shook his head.

The winds of this era howl fiercely.

What are martial arts prodigies and police captains compared to this kind of storm?

They're just drifting duckweed.

If you can't see the wind direction and take the wrong path, everything is destined to vanish into nothingness.

……

Zhou Tong returned home and went straight to the hall.

In the hall.

Zhou Chengzong sat in a rosewood armchair by the window, holding a copy of the Cangzhou Daily in his hands, with a pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, carefully reading it by the light.

Yao Wanru sat on the embroidery stool opposite him, holding an embroidery hoop in her hand, her needle and thread weaving through the fine silk, embroidering a pattern of magpies perched on plum blossoms.

Upon hearing footsteps, the two of them looked up almost simultaneously.

"Tong'er is back."

Yao Wanru put down her embroidery frame, a smile spreading across her face. She asked with concern, "Why are you so late today? Are you settling in well at the police station?"

Zhou Tong closed the door behind him, shutting out the chill, and walked to the charcoal brazier to warm his hands. "Don't worry, Mother, everything's fine. I was busy with other things today, which is why it's so late."

Zhou Chengzong also took off his glasses, folded the newspaper and placed it on the small table beside him. He looked his son up and down a few times, and seeing that his expression was normal, he nodded slightly: "When you first enter the public service, you should observe and listen more. Captain Qin is a sensible man, so just listen to him."

"My son understands."

Zhou Tong sat down in the chair below his father. Thinking of the doubts that had been bothering him, he went straight to the point: "Father, there's something I'd like to ask you about."

"Hmm?" Zhou Chengzong looked over.

"You mentioned before that your master used to be an instructor at the Tianjin Military Academy."

Zhou Tong cut to the chase: "But I heard someone mention today that Master spent his early years in Northeast China and apparently left behind quite a reputation. Do you know anything about this?"

"Have you ever lived in Northeast China?"

Zhou Chengzong frowned slightly, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Immediately, he shook his head slightly and smiled, "It's not surprising that a martial arts master like Director Ni has traveled all over the country and left a name for himself in various places."

Seeing that his father didn't know either, Zhou Tong quickly changed the subject and asked, "Father, how exactly did you and Master meet?"

He paused, then added, "You mentioned earlier that your friendship was forged over a seventy-year-old ginseng. But while a seventy-year-old ginseng is precious, it's probably not that rare for a great martial arts master like Master, is it?"

The longer Zhou Tong stayed at the Dragon Tiger Martial Arts School, the deeper his understanding of Ni Dongting's extraordinary status became.

That day, Qin Lie and the other five captains at the Bone Forging Realm couldn't even get an audience. But when his father took him to the martial arts school to register, they were immediately summoned by their master.

There's also the competition among direct disciples—even with their family backgrounds and talents, Liu Qing and Zheng Hao still have to diligently guard the martial arts school every day, trying to figure out their master's intentions.

But the father said that if he really had that ability, his master would consider him more when accepting him as a disciple, out of consideration for their past relationship.

Is a 70-year-old ginseng really worth such a great deal of favor?

He hadn't understood the significance of it before, and hadn't thought about it deeply.

Now that I have gained more knowledge, this doubt has sprouted like a seed breaking through the soil, and I can no longer suppress it.

"Why are you suddenly asking about this?" Zhou Chengzong was slightly taken aback.

"Just asking casually."

Zhou Tong smiled and said, "I was just curious because I heard someone mention my master's past today."

Zhou Chengzong nodded slightly, picked up his teacup, and with a look of reminiscence, slowly said:

"I met Director Ni... more than ten years ago. At that time, I had just opened up the medicinal herb supply line in Northeast China and spent half a year traveling between Harbin, Kunming, and Fengtian to sort out all the connections."

On the way back, I passed through Tianjin, so I naturally had to pay my respects to your second uncle. I stayed in Tianjin for a few days before setting off back to Cangzhou.

Upon reaching Qing County, they were unlucky enough to encounter bandits blocking their path.

Zhou Tong's gaze narrowed slightly.

"I wasn't escorting goods at the time, so I didn't have many people with me, just a few attendants."

Zhou Chengzong spoke calmly, but a hint of lingering fear flickered in his eyes:

"Just when I was about to be in trouble... your master appeared and saved me."

I stepped forward to thank him, and only then did I notice that Director Ni's face was somewhat pale, and his breathing was slightly weak, as if he were injured.

Zhou Chengzong continued:

"I thought he had been injured in the fight earlier, and feeling guilty, I took out an old ginseng root that I had brought back from Northeast China and gave it to him to heal his wounds."

At this point, he chuckled self-deprecatingly:

"Now that I think about it, how could someone with Director Ni's level of cultivation be injured by mere bandits?"

That was probably a recurrence of an old injury he had. But to repay a life-saving debt, a ginseng root is only rightly deserved.

Zhou Tong nodded in agreement, but his doubts were not completely resolved.

If that's all there is to it, the affection from an old ginseng root seems insufficient to explain the master's promise to take care of him.

Just then, Zhou Chengzong suddenly clicked his tongue and said:

"Speaking of which, that old ginseng is quite different from ordinary ginseng."

Zhou Tong narrowed his eyes slightly: "How is it different?"

"That's a 'Purple Cloud Ginseng'," Zhou Chengzong said.

"Purple Cloud Ginseng?" Zhou Tong asked, puzzled.

It's normal that you haven't heard of it.

Zhou Chengzong explained, "This ginseng is a rare species unique to the Changbai Mountains in Northeast China. Its body has natural purple cloud-like patterns, which is extremely magical. It is said that it only grows in some very special places."

Zhou Tong was startled and quickly asked, "Special? How so?"

"That's the skill that mountain herders use to make a living; why would they easily reveal it to outsiders?"

Zhou Chengzong shook his head. "All I know is that this Ziyun Ginseng has miraculous medicinal effects. Whenever it appears, it is immediately bought up by insiders at a high price and will never enter the market."

It was by chance that I helped an old mountain herder a great deal back then.

Only then did they agree to transfer one of their treasured plants to me, repeatedly emphasizing that it could prolong life and keep me safe for any eventuality.

Zhou Tong nodded slowly, and seeing that his father's understanding was limited, he did not ask any further questions.

However, this is enough for now.

Purple Cloud Ginseng.

Shadowworm.

The piece of animal meat that my master bestowed upon me would not rot.

These words connected and collided in his mind, gradually outlining a vague shape.

'It seems that the Purple Cloud Ginseng... is most likely some kind of extraordinary substance,' he thought to himself.

After chatting casually with his family for a while, Zhou Tong stood up and said, "Father, Mother, I'm going back to my room now."

He returned to his room and bolted the door.

Zhou Tong walked to the desk and took out the dark brown wooden box from his pocket.

Carefully remove the jade box and unlock the clasp.

The iron-gray shadow insect lay quietly on the blue velvet background, its surface gleaming with a cold, hard metallic sheen under the light. Its blood-red eyes were wide open and empty, like a frozen specimen.

He extended his right index finger, placed it to his lips, and gently bit it with the tip of his teeth.

A sharp pain shot through him, and a bead of crimson blood quickly gathered at his fingertip.

Zhou Tong hovered his fingertip above the shadow insect, and the blood droplets gathered larger and larger until they could no longer bear the weight and dripped down.

"despair."

The blood droplet landed precisely on the fine scales on the back of the shadow insect.

A strange scene unfolded—the drop of blood neither slid down the insect's body nor spread out on its surface.

It's like a drop of water on dry sand; it's quickly absorbed and disappears in the blink of an eye.

It left only a very faint dark red mark where it dripped, and then the mark gradually disappeared, as if it had never existed.

The shadow insect remained cold and lifeless, showing no reaction whatsoever.

Zhou Tong stared at it quietly for a moment, then squeezed out another drop of blood and dripped it onto the same spot.

They were absorbed just as easily, and then vanished without a trace.

He looked at it again, put the shadow insect back into the jade box, closed the lid, and put it back into his bosom, keeping it close to his body.

Then he took the thin booklet out of the wooden box and opened it to the first page.

The tiny characters, densely packed together, record the methods for awakening the Shadow Insects, the mantras for controlling them, and the key points for using several tracking techniques.

The room was quiet, with only the rustling of pages turning and the soft sound of the wind outside the window.

……

Time flies like an arrow, and ten days have passed in the blink of an eye.

Zhou Tong gradually integrated into the life of the police station.

The squad leader's job was easier than he had expected.

As long as there is no major disturbance on the streets, one only needs to lead a patrol once a day at a certain time to show that the government is present, and the rest of the time can be used as one's own.

The city of Cangzhou today is like a pot of water that is about to boil, seemingly calm on the surface but with undercurrents surging beneath.

During his ten days of patrol, Zhou Tong had already witnessed three street fights. Fortunately, they were all just ordinary brawls or disputes between shops, and his men had already subdued them before he could even make a move.

The Second Squadron has three platoons that take turns on duty in the morning, afternoon, and evening.

That day, it was Zhou Tong's turn to be on night duty.

As dusk fell, Zhou Tong led Chen Yan and Li Kang out of the police station.

The three walked along the main street for about half an incense stick's time before Zhou Tong stopped in front of a braised food stall.

"Let's have something to eat first," he said as he sat down on the bench.

The stall owner, a thin old man in his fifties, quickly and efficiently wiped the table and set out the bowls and chopsticks.

Chen Yan stepped forward, snatched the rag from the stall owner's hand, and carefully wiped the table again. His attentiveness surprised the stall owner.

When the steaming hot braised pork was served, Chen Yan took it first, placed it steadily in front of Zhou Tong, and handed him chopsticks with both hands.

"Boss, please enjoy your meal."

Zhou Tong glanced at him, said nothing, and took the chopsticks.

He initially suspected that the man's provocation that day might have been orchestrated by someone else, involving factional infighting within the organization.

But after these days of contact and inquiries, he finally understood.

Without anyone instructing him, this guy is indeed hot-tempered, easily angered, and straightforward.

As for his attitude towards himself, why did it change so quickly?

That's because, besides having a fiery temper, this guy is also someone who prioritizes strength above all else.

In Chen Yan's own words, "Those Iron-Skin Realm cultivators who defeated me did so because they had the advantage of being in a higher realm!"

But you're different, boss. You managed to subdue me completely with your Stone Skin Realm cultivation. I, Old Chen, have never seen anything like it in my life! I'm impressed!

Later, Zhou Tong's reputation as a "martial arts prodigy" and "skin that could break through stone in three months" gradually spread, and Chen Yan was completely in awe of him.

This man had a violent temper but an incredibly thick skin. These days, he's been trying every trick in the book to curry favor with Zhou Tong, leaving Zhou Tong both amused and exasperated.

During our conversation just now, I decided to waive the punishment of "cleaning the latrines for a month" because of his "good behavior".

"Boss."

Chen Yan picked up a bowl of braised pork and sat down next to Zhou Tong. He glanced at Zhou Tong's face several times before finally speaking:

"Actually... so what if I wash latrines? I've offended my superiors before, it's not like I've never done it before. I know you're worried about me, Old Chen, but... you shouldn't have pardoned me so early."

He lowered his voice and said earnestly, "This... is not conducive to establishing your authority."

Zhou Tong's chopsticks, holding a piece of lung, froze in mid-air: "???"

He paused for two seconds, then slowly put the lung slice into his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it.

Then I picked up my chopsticks and tapped them gently on the rim of the bowl.

"Old Chen."

Zhou Tong looked at him and said sincerely, "Actually... I still prefer your previous unruly self."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Could you restore it for me?"

Chen Yan was stunned, her eyes widening in surprise: "Huh?"

Li Kang, who had been engrossed in eating, suddenly trembled and buried his face even lower, his forehead almost touching the rim of the bowl, revealing only his neck, which was flushed red.

Zhou Tong shook his head, said no more, and focused on eating.

Now that he thinks about it, he finally understands.

When he first reported on the story, Qin Lie hinted that he needed to "control his subordinates," and then Chen Yan jumped out to provoke him...

This was clearly Qin Lie's way of knowing Chen Yan's temperament, but he deliberately didn't stop him, just to see how Zhou Tong handled things, as a small test.

After all, no matter how talented one is, if one is not decisive enough, hesitates to act and dares not establish authority, and cannot control the situation, one will find it difficult to move an inch on this chaotic street.

After settling the bill, the three continued their patrol of the streets.

As night deepened, the cold wind grew stronger.

The streets were almost deserted, with only the occasional rickshaw driver hurrying by with his neck hunched over, the sound of his wheels rolling over the cobblestones particularly clear in the empty streets.

As the patrol route was nearing its end, Zhou Tong was about to call the two men to turn back.

Just then, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Listen attentively.

Amidst the howling wind, a faint shout drifted by, followed by hurried footsteps.

Zhou Tong's gaze suddenly shifted to a deep alleyway to his right.

The alley was sandwiched between two tall brick buildings. The entrance was narrow, and the inside was dark and unlit, like a mouth ready to devour someone.

Chen Yan and Li Kang also heard the commotion and immediately stopped, their hands instinctively resting on the batons at their waists.

Just then, a loud whistle rang out.

It's a police sentry!

Zhou Tong's expression hardened, and he quickly took two steps forward.

He had just arrived outside the alley when he saw a dark figure rushing towards him at great speed, lunging toward the alley entrance.

When Zhou Tong could see the face of the dark figure by the moonlight, he was slightly taken aback.