"Boyang, look! There's a street performer up ahead. That person is amazing!"
A man in his thirties was performing Iron Shirt kung fu, while several young men in their twenties were repeatedly slashing at him with long knives. The crowd watching from the sidelines cheered from time to time.
"This man is amazing."
The layman sees the spectacle, but the expert sees the details. Li Boyang immediately recognized that this man was extraordinary. Every time the man exerted his strength, his bronze skin faintly revealed an iron color, and the large and small veins all over his body bulged out, as if he were covered with a fishing net.
"This person's strength is beyond comprehension; his external martial arts skills have probably reached the highest level of being as hard as refined iron."
He also discovered that the man's body had already reacted naturally before the knife even got close, but he managed to restrain himself and let the knife strike him.
This feeling reminded Li Boyang of Wong Fei-hung. Yes, when Wong Fei-hung was training Li Boyang, no matter which corner Li Boyang surrendered from, Wong Fei-hung could always react first. This man gave him exactly that feeling.
"This street performer is actually a master on par with his master."
Li Boyang felt a shock mixed with sorrow. How could such a person make a living by performing arts? How far had Chinese martial arts fallen?
"good!"
"good!"
"Boyang, give me the money quickly, I want to give you a tip."
While Li Boyang was still in a daze, the street performer showed off another skill, transforming his hands into eagle claws and crushing five large stone slabs in a row, winning another round of cheers.
The clinking of copper coins landed beside the street performer. Aunt Thirteen's face flushed as she watched, and she took a few pieces of silver from Li Boyang and tossed them over to him all at once.
"Thank you for the honor, young lady."
The street performer clasped his hands in a fist salute to Aunt Thirteen, clearly recognizing her extraordinary skills.
"That's all for today. I, Yan Zhendong, thank you all for your support."
Thank you everyone!
Thank you everyone!
Yan Zhendong, the Iron Shirt Warrior!!!
Li Boyang was startled. No wonder he was so powerful. In the movie, Yan Zhendong made a living by performing, but he was definitely a master on par with Huang Feihong.
"Wait a moment."
Seeing Yan Zhendong about to leave, Li Boyang called out to him, but he had already decided to recruit him. A master like Yan Zhendong was incredibly rare; having finally found one, there was no reason to let him go so easily.
"What can I do for you, brave warrior?"
Yan Zhendong turned around and saw that Li Boyang was with Aunt Thirteen. Yan Zhendong also clasped his hands in greeting.
"With such excellent kung fu skills, why do you make a living by performing?"
"What's wrong with performing? I earn a living with my own skills, I don't steal or rob, is that not allowed?"
Yan Zhendong stared at Li Boyang with an unfriendly expression, clearly having misunderstood Li Boyang's meaning.
“I am Li Boyang from Baozhilin Martial Arts School. Seeing your excellent kung fu skills, I would like to invite you to be a boxing instructor at the school. A monthly salary of 100 taels is much better than living a life of hardship.” Li Boyang quickly explained.
In the Qing Dynasty, 100 taels of silver was considered a high salary. Even now, with the large influx of silver from the Americas, one tael of silver is roughly equivalent to RMB 200, so 100 taels would be equivalent to RMB 20,000.
"Po Chi Lam? Who is Wong Fei-hung to you?"
"It is indeed my teacher."
"Okay, I'll go with you."
Li Boyang was overjoyed. After Yan Zhendong finished packing, he had no interest in continuing to shop with Aunt Thirteen. Ignoring Aunt Thirteen's aggrieved little eyes, he took Yan Zhendong back to the inn where they were staying.
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Chapter 17 The Rise of the Militia
The next morning, Li Boyang left the inn alone.
Following the address on the letter of recommendation, and after making several inquiries, I arrived at the Guangzhou office of Jardine Matheson.
The Guangzhou office of Jardine Matheson was not a Western-style building, but a traditional courtyard house with three courtyards, located in downtown Guangzhou. It was clearly newly opened, as even the Jardine Matheson sign was new.
After submitting the letter of recommendation, Li Boyang was led to a study by a servant.
"There is an old Chinese saying that goes, 'I am very happy to have friends coming from afar.'"
In the study, an old man in his early sixties was washing the tea set on the coffee table. After gesturing for Li Boyang to sit down, he placed a clean teacup in front of him, pressed down on the freshly brewed tea leaves with one hand, and poured him a cup.
"I like drinking tea. It makes me more energetic, which is much more effective than coffee, and it tastes better than coffee too."
Li Boyang picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and said, "It seems Mr. Chaddon has some understanding of Chinese culture."
Chadton took a small sip and said with a smile, "Yes, I really like China. It has brought me wealth, fame, and status. Although we have had some minor conflicts, that doesn't stop me from liking it."
"Look, I'm back in China again, and that annoying guy is gone."
Li Boyang understood that the old man in front of him was referring to Lin Zexu's burning of opium at Humen, which led to his expulsion from the country and the Opium War ending in victory for the foreign powers.
“Young man, I’ve done business with Mr. Zhang. He’s very shrewd, but he’s also a good business partner. He recommended you to me. So what can you bring to me? And what do I need to give in return?”
Li Boyang could understand that this was typical foreign thinking—simple, direct, and focused solely on interests—but that was exactly what he needed.