50: Chapter 49? What? Challenging the Five Famous Boxing Styles of Guangdong Province?

Traveling on the road to a place called Mo Family Village in Dongguan, the car was exceptionally quiet, save for the driver occasionally humming along to the music.

Li Changsheng's face had turned pale, then green, and finally black.

"Elder Zhang, you never told me we were going to challenge martial arts halls!"

As soon as he spoke, Li Changsheng's voice was filled with grievances.

Half an hour ago, when Li Changsheng sat in the taxi, beaming with joy while carrying his luggage and live-streaming equipment, he had been happy and excited.

But as they drove along, he learned a terrifying truth.

"Hehe, who said anything about challenging martial arts halls? Did I say that?" Elder Zhang remained chuckling, still in the mood to hum along just like the driver.

"Isn't issuing a challenge letter the same thing as challenging a hall? And it's in my name, too."

Li Changsheng was on the verge of tears. He just wanted to see the boxing styles of Guangdong Province; he didn't want to go around smashing up places.

In Traditional Martial Arts, 'smashing a hall' was an extremely malicious act; if things went wrong, it could easily turn into a life-or-death situation.

"Heh, your experience is still too limited. Issuing a challenge letter is different from challenging a hall. We are going there formally for an exchange of pointers. Rest assured, if you win, they won't do anything to you."

With Elder Zhang's explanation, Li Changsheng looked at him with some suspicion.

Would it really be okay?

Out of trust for Elder Zhang, Li Changsheng decided not to ask further. It was probably useless to ask anyway, and he couldn't go back now.

Elder Zhang had brought him here to challenge the Mo Family Fist, one of the five great famous fists of Guangdong Province. This was just the first battle; the second would be Choy Li Fut, the third Li Family Fist, the fourth Liu Family Fist, and the fifth Hung Ga.

Upon hearing this itinerary, Li Changsheng was nearly crying. Damn it, he just wanted to practice some combat techniques for dealing with Traditional Martial Arts, but Elder Zhang had jumped straight to Hell difficulty.

According to Elder Zhang, whether a martial artist wins or loses is one thing, but they must fight.

Seemingly noticing Li Changsheng's concerns, Zhang Youdao laughed even more happily.

This old urchin.

"You brat, don't worry about those trivial things. The first step in practicing Traditional Martial Arts is to cultivate courage; your courage still needs more tempering. What are you afraid of? They should be the ones afraid. You are just an unknown junior; as the saying goes, the person with bare feet is not afraid of the one wearing shoes. Besides, this is a private exchange. Rest assured, I've already arranged everything for you. They are all young juniors around your age; they won't beat you to death."

I thank you very much!

Li Changsheng was between laughter and tears; what a thing to say.

Those people had been training hard for over a decade, Disciples taught as direct descendants since childhood. How long had he been training? His total combat experience added up to only one week, and that was all against a bunch of people practicing Chinese Kickboxing.

"Whoa, are you two practicing kung fu?" The driver in the front row had been listening the whole way. Having figured it out, he turned off the music and asked with great interest.

"Hehe, yes, taking the junior out to see the world." Elder Zhang was in high spirits.

"Hey, practicing kung fu is great. You said you're going to challenge our Guangdong Province's five great famous fists? Is that for real?"

The driver was clearly a local from Guangdong Province, and his tone seemed to hold the five great famous fists in high regard.

"Fake, we are just going to pay a visit and see the splendor of the five great famous fists."

Elder Zhang knew how to talk; he knew that in Guangdong Province, it was better not to say such arrogant things, or the driver might just turn around and dump them at the seaside.

They chatted for a while on the road, and after about an hour or so, they arrived at a place called Mo Family Village under Dongguan. It was said that this was an area where the Mo Family Fist was widely practiced.

Having listened to Elder Zhang the whole way, Li Changsheng had a general understanding of the current situation of the Mo Family Fist.

Nowadays, the Legacy of the Mo Family Fist had stalled. Very few of the younger generation continued to practice, and the older generation was distressed by the lack of local practitioners, yet unwilling to teach outsiders, which led to a serious generational gap.

It was only because the Dongguan municipal government had started paying attention and opened Mo Family Fist martial arts halls—and even included the Mo Family Fist as a mandatory exercise in some local elementary schools—that the style was barely kept alive.

However, those weren't considered authentic. The place Elder Zhang brought him to this time was Mo Family Village, which still retained the atmosphere of the Mo Family Fist from decades ago.

The taxi dropped them off at the entrance of the village and left. Dragging his luggage, Li Changsheng looked around the village.

Nestled against the mountains with green waters and lush hills, looking out, it had the characteristics of the Danxia landform in Guangdong Province. A very clear stream flowed through the mountains past the village, and it even branched into several tributaries that wove through the village.

Looking toward the distant lake, one could see an old man wearing a bamboo hat, riding a bamboo raft with a bamboo basket at his feet. Holding a bamboo pole, he was singing a local folk song while poling the raft.

It was just like a real-life restoration of the scene on the back of the 20 RMB note.

Just as in Tao Yuanming's poem: "Built a hut in the human realm, yet free from the noise of carriages and horses. You ask how this can be? When the heart is distant, the place becomes remote."

"Hehe, Little Mo still knows how to enjoy life. The last time we had tea together was at a club in Dongguan."

Elder Zhang's words completely broke Li Changsheng's mental defenses, and the scene of "leisurely gazing at the southern mountains" collapsed instantly.

"Alright, kid, let's go. Little Mo should have prepared rooms for us; let's drop off our luggage first."

With that, Zhang Youdao walked away leisurely, empty-handed.

Li Changsheng looked at the suitcases he was dragging in both hands, feeling speechless.

The roads in the village were paved with bluestone slabs, and the surrounding buildings had a certain style, combining ancient architecture with modern flair. It was evident that although the buildings were very retro, they were just imitations, and the interiors were likely fully equipped with home appliances.

Passing by a stone bridge, Li Changsheng suddenly stopped because he saw a sixty-year-old man standing on a bridge pier, practicing a set of boxing techniques.

It was called boxing, but it actually made more use of leg techniques. He saw this slightly thin old man on the bridge pier like a nimble monkey, leaping left and right, his kicks whistling through the air.

"As expected of the Mo Family Fist, the name is misleading."

"Hmm?!"

Hearing this, the old man's head snapped around, and he shouted in a deep voice: "Kid, what did you say? If you have the guts, say it again!"

His slightly cloudy eyes widened abruptly, unexpectedly showing a hint of sharpness.

Li Changsheng felt awkward being stared at by this old man. He had muttered very quietly just now, but it turned out this old man had sharp ears and keen eyes, having heard every word.

The reason he muttered was because Elder Zhang had explained the characteristics of the Mo Family Fist in detail in the car.

The Mo Family Fist had distinct Lingnan characteristics and a simple, generous Southern Fist style. It was called a boxing style, but it was actually, damn it, known for its leg techniques.

It was like two people competing in martial arts, both claiming to use a certain boxing style, but then one of them suddenly unleashed a fierce leg technique—who could withstand that?

The Mo Family Fist had a saying that revealed the essence of its technique: "One kick is worth three punches; the hand is one foot seven, the foot is three feet. Attack by extending long; leap and kick in the air; the fist weighs a hundred taels, the foot carries a thousand catties of force."