Chapter 21: The Growth of a Rookie (Part 1)

"This isn't a misunderstanding at all!" Chen Zheng's temper flared as he spoke with irritation.

"Hahaha, Brother Chen, we thought you were some enemy or perhaps a lackey of those foreign devils hiding in the tree. My apologies for the attack!" The square-faced man laughed, his voice smooth and apologetic.

This square-faced man was a typical northern brute, exuding an aura of righteousness. By emphasizing that Chen Zheng was hiding in the tree, he seemed to suggest that was the reason they attacked him. To Chen Zheng, this sounded like a martial arts taboo. After all, in novels, one often encounters stories of people hiding in trees to learn martial arts—something that was considered dishonorable in the world of kung fu.

Chen Zheng now felt slightly embarrassed. He realized that he might have been in the wrong from the beginning. With a wave of his hand, he said, "Since it's a misunderstanding, let's forget it."

"My name is Zhao, and I am a practitioner of the Twelve Paths of Northern Tanquan," the square-faced man introduced himself. "May I ask, Brother Chen, what is your name?"

"I'm Chen Zheng, just someone who's dabbled in martial arts," Chen Zheng instinctively kept his true identity hidden. He had no intention of revealing too much.

"Ah, so you're Brother Chen!" Zhao responded warmly. "Have you ever heard of the Boxer Rebellion?"

"Of course, I've heard of it," Chen Zheng nodded.

"We of the Boxer Rebellion believe in the unity of all under heaven. For years, foreigners have been running rampant in our land. Our goal is to rid China of foreign devils. Many grandmasters have joined us. I see that Brother Chen is also quite skilled—why not join us in this great cause?"

"Grandmasters, many of them? It's as if those grandmasters are as common as cabbage on the roadside." Chen Zheng silently mocked, but on the surface, he remained calm, replying, "I'm no grandmaster, just a humble learner. But I appreciate your offer, Zhao."

The moment he said this, the atmosphere in the air shifted. It became tense, as if the very air around them had thickened. 

"Brother Chen, it is the duty of martial artists like us to rid the land of foreign invaders," the man who had thrown the money darts earlier spoke, his voice stern. 

Chen Zheng's gaze shifted to the man's face, which had a large scar running from left to right. There was something oddly familiar about him, but for the moment, Chen Zheng couldn't place it. 

As his eyes scanned the area, his heart raced. What he saw sent a chill down his spine.

Behind the scar-faced man, a figure was holding a torch, but in the other hand, there was something even more disturbing—a human head. It was severed, blood still dripping from the neck. The torchbearer wasn't the only one holding such a gruesome trophy—several other men in the group were carrying severed heads as well. This was the first time Chen Zheng had ever seen human heads being carried around like that.

His training had heightened his senses, and he could feel the cold, lifeless eyes of the decapitated corpses staring at him. The people whose heads had been severed were not foreign devils or traitors; they were ordinary Chinese peasants. Their emaciated faces clearly showed the signs of malnutrition, a stark contrast to the foreigners the Boxers claimed to be fighting against. These were innocent civilians.

Just as the grim realization sank in, the foreign woman let out a loud scream. She must have thought Chen Zheng was there to save them, and from her cries, he understood why they were being hunted.

It wasn't just some random attack on foreigners—it was a political manipulation. The Boxers had killed innocent civilians and planned to frame the foreigners for the murders, claiming that the foreigners had killed these people and decapitated them. The idea was to turn the public's anger against the foreigners and rally more people to their cause. 

Before he could fully process this, the foreign woman screamed again, "They've killed so many innocent people! These monsters must be stopped!"

"Shut up, you filthy woman! You're just making noise!" The scar-faced man growled, not even bothering to listen to her. He stepped toward the woman with a sinister grin, his hand reaching for his waistband, as if preparing to remove his pants.

Chen Zheng's eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what the man was planning.

"Hey, brother, ever had fun with foreign women? Join us, and you'll have plenty of opportunities!" Zhao called out, looking over at Chen Zheng with a lewd grin.

Chen Zheng removed the staff from his back, ready to act. However, Zhao didn't seem to suspect anything, and even flashed him an "I get it" kind of smile.

"I'm not interested in foreign women," Chen Zheng said coldly, a murderous look flashing in his eyes.

"No interest in foreign ones? That's fine. Next village, you can find yourself a few local girls..." As the square-faced man neared Chen Zheng, he suddenly launched a whip-like kick toward him.

*Bang!*

At that precise moment, Chen Zheng moved, his staff colliding with the kick. However, the impact wasn't enough to push the man back far—Zhao only staggered a few steps.

"Ha! Didn't think you'd dodge it," Zhao sneered, clearly not impressed.

Chen Zheng remained silent, keeping his guard up. His original plan had been to take out the strongest of them first, but he hadn't expected…

*Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...*

The sound of projectiles slicing through the air reached his ears. It was the scar-faced man—he wasn't trying to undress. Instead, he had been preparing hidden weapons.

Without thinking, Chen Zheng quickly dodged to the side. As he did, he realized the staff he was holding had been entangled with something—rope, to be specific, tied to a flying dart.

This was a coordinated plan. After Zhao's failed kick, he had pulled back to regroup. The scar-faced man had pretended to undress as a distraction, and just as Chen Zheng dodged, someone had used the rope to trap his staff. It was clear now that these three had planned everything from the beginning.

"You little martial arts newbie, you dare to venture into the jianghu like this?" Zhao said with a laugh. "You should just keep your anger and murderous intent in check. You're far too naïve to make us lower our guard!"

"I guess I really am too naïve," Chen Zheng admitted, acknowledging his own mistakes.

"Uh-oh!" 

"Ha! Still thinking this is a charity hall? You think you're getting a free jianghu lesson?" 

At that moment, while Chen Zheng was slightly distracted, another money dart flew toward him. He barely managed to dodge it, but this wasn't part of their plan. As he moved aside, he noticed that the staff in his hands had been securely tied to a tree. The man holding the rope had circled the tree, using it to bind his weapon.

It seemed that Chen Zheng had underestimated just how dangerous these men were.