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In a sea-side villa in San Francisco, Li Chunyang was drinking tea with a man in a black suit. The environment here is very good. You can hear the sound of the sea. It is a real estate under the company's name. Several short-haired men with strong clothes stood at the door. The temples were slightly raised, with strong essence and blood, and a strong body. At first glance, they were people who had been immersed in foreign kung fu for many years.

"Brother Chen, come on, let's have a drink. This wine is rare. If the boss hadn't specially approved it, even I would have to go to Chinatown to buy Erguotou."

Li Chunyang is a person with no shortcomings, but he is very affectionate about this leisurely drink. Unfortunately, many times, when facing Kenneth, who only knows how to drink red wine, he would rather drink it by himself.

The man opposite is quite extraordinary and heroic, and he has a sense of righteousness out of thin air. In every move, he knows that he is a martial arts person who practices martial arts all year round.[

The man picked up the wine glass on the table, drank it boldly, felt the fragrance of the good wine, and praised: "What a good wine. This jar is the Fenjiu bar that was famous at the expo not long ago." On the white porcelain bottle, the two big words "Fenjiu" are written with dragons and phoenixes dancing.

"Yes, at this expo, these traditional Chinese products and two new products from the company have been in the limelight. You don't know how refreshed I felt when I, as a representative, saw the expressions of the shocked foreigners' chins falling to the ground." Li Chunyang took out a pack of cigarettes, picked up two, and prepared to hand him one, "Come on, try this new filter, which has been sold well in the United States recently. Don't worry, this pack of high-end cigarettes was bought by my own money."

"A martial arts practitioner does not smoke." The man surnamed Chen smiled heartily and refused.

Li Chunyang ignored him and pulled himself up. His life in the United States was very comfortable. Although Kenneth occupied 5 shares of Pan-American Kenshin International, he only paid dividends on weekdays. According to regulations, his salary was not high, but Kenneth specially declared that Zhang Shu had given him part of his dividends. In this way, both of them lived a good life.

"Brother Chen, this mafia incident seems to have easily disintegrated us, but in fact it is already a reminder to us. That plan must be implemented as soon as possible, otherwise if the task cannot be completed, we will be the sinners of the nation in decades." Li Chunyang talked about the serious matter, which is also the reason for talking to a man named Chen this time.

"Brother Li, don't worry, please help the boss take care of business matters. Leave the affairs of the hall and the gang to me. Although I am not a material for underground hall, I can open the martial arts hall throughout the United States, light and dark. In the long run, I think there are professionals sent by the boss to be responsible for underground hall affairs, and I will not disappoint the boss." The man surnamed Chen said confidently, calm, as if he was just talking about an understatement.

There is a special story between him and his boss. Since that night, a mysterious man came to knock on the door of the martial arts hall, he went to the southwest and stayed for several years.

"I believe that with Brother Chen's ability and the boss has to cultivate for many years, he will surely create a world in this Western world." Li Chunyang extinguished the cigarette butts, reminded half of consolation and half of warning, "The United States is a flashy city. I hope Brother Chen will not miss the boss's big affairs."

"Even if you have to face failure in the end, Chen will return to China and spread it to the boss. Brother Li takes care of it, and the plan is about to begin, so say goodbye!" The young man looked determined, thinking of the mission he shouldered, he did not waste much time. He stood up like a curled tiger and went out in a blink of an eye.

Looking at the man surnamed Chen and his men leaving, Li Chunyang felt a little dazed, as if he had returned to the night before leaving, what the boss said to him in person.

"Chuyang, you have to remember. If you want to completely defeat a nation, you must first fully integrate into it. This plan will never have archives, and anyone will only become a soul at the gun after failure. However, with the efforts of this group of people, including you, in the not too distant future, there may be a Chinese martial arts hall on every street, and under each street, there is an underground force controlled by the Chinese. At that time, the so-called ruthless mafia did not even have the qualification to carry shoes to this huge dark kingdom.

Remember, we Chinese not only have thousands of years of history, we also have a subtle weapon. Your efforts will be praised many years later, because you once used the weapon of culture on another front to comprehensively invade a country with shallow foundations. You must remember that the people you assisted will no longer be underworlds in many years. After years of baptism, they will gradually become a brand new collective, a collective that can go into business, politics, or even form political parties and select spokespersons... Although we all regard the rejuvenation of this nation as our highest mission. However, in foreign countries, the national interests of some countries cannot even resist the interests of a small group of classes..."

Li Chunyang didn't know what the not-too-distant future would look like, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like when an underground force could invade various industry departments of the country. He only knew that he would work hard to do it. As a chess piece under his boss, he spent decades to firmly grasp the roots of the United States and stabilize the situation.

He didn't know whether the boss could succeed when he had a mindful arithmetic situation. He only knew that his only mission was to perform this never-existent task.

"Crack..."

In front of a bustling Chinatown, a large group of people were litting firecrackers and cheering happily, and even a few white policemen were looking here in the distance with their hands and feet raised.

Today, it was not that the buns were opened or that the Chinese restaurants were opened, but that a martial arts hall specializing in teaching Chinese kung fu was opened. After seeing the fist and leg skills of several masters at the opening ceremony, seven or eight white young men were eagerly waiting to sign up.

On the plaque of the martial arts hall, three gold-plated characters "Jingwu Hall" are brilliant, and there are no English notes, giving people a strong visual impact.

Seeing that the opening ceremony was halfway through, several white men wearing wide practice robes suddenly came, one by one, one with her breasts exposed, her muscles burst. The pedestrians who were watching were slightly reluctant to give in, and then fell to the ground by their shoulders. Several sharp-eyed white disciples had long recognized the people, Peter, the owner of the Sanda Training Center in Arya Street, and several of his proud disciples. Peter, who is known as the Strongman, is a very famous Strongman in the near and far.

Not long after these people arrived, another group of people came to the east end of the street. The group of people were wearing strange hair and wearing large wooden shoes, but no one recognized them.

"Sir Hawks, we are here to compete with Jingwu Pavilion today. I hope you don't stop it." Peter's tower-like body stood in front of the white-haired Sheriff Hawks. The other party had no objection and gave him a few documents, indicating that he could compete as long as he signed it on it, which would not be considered a disruption of public order. This kind of competition between martial arts halls has been seen frequently in the past two years. Especially in martial arts halls opened by Chinese people, people often challenged by various races. And this newly opened martial arts hall seems to be in trouble today.

"Hayi, dear sheriff, we are here to compete." After the group of people with hair tied up, a middle-aged man in the lead grabbed Hawks. The old man felt that his wrist was as if he was wrapped in a red iron ring. Seeing that the other party was really fierce and had a kind face, he knew that he had suffered from this person's secret loss. He pulled out a few pieces of paper with one hand, and even let him fill in the format.

The middle-aged man drew some talisman and took a few people to the crowd and followed Peter and others in. Sheriff Hawks looked at it for a long time but couldn't recognize what the word it was.

"All of you are here to challenge?" The man surnamed Chen was wearing a training uniform. In the huge martial arts training ground, the chair placed under the character Wu seemed so prominent.

"Yes, I am Peter, the head coach of Sanda Training Center in Aliya Street."

"Tanaka Rio, Karate."

The two answered through the translation.

"The martial arts in our Jingwu Academy are soft and hard. You can choose one of them. One side sends a representative to fight."

"I choose the one who is strong." Peter learned from the translator what the Chinese meant and said viciously, "If you lose, I will smash your sign."

Riki Tanaka sneered: "Owner Chen, if you lose, I can consider giving you a plaque for free."

The man surnamed Chen shook his head, stood up suddenly, untied his practice clothes, revealing his strong muscles, "I also competed with your colleagues when I was in Shanghai, but I was too soft-hearted at that time and always thought that martial arts was just a victory for him. Since you came to the door at this time, let me start from today to defeat him for him."

While listening to the little agent beside him, Sheriff Hawks asked for a pot of Chinese tea with a chat and sat in the teahouse and looked at the Jingwu Hall opposite. According to his previous experience, in another half an hour, he could check the situation himself. As long as no one died, it would be fine if the competition was contested.

"Poor Chinese, it's not easy to open a martial arts school. On the first day, two groups of people were hit by the door. Damn Peter, Damn Ghost, God, I'm not a racist. God bless you, don't die..."

However, the next moment, he squirted out a sip of tea, squirting the little agent who was nagging and worried about the situation in the martial arts hall.

"Ah..." The little agent looked back and saw the Jingwu Hall surrounded by people. The crowd made way. The disciples of the Jingwu Hall dragged out a white man and the Japanese who were beaten to the point of only half of their lives and threw them directly on the street.

No one sympathized with those people, and even the Americans present cheered for the Jingwu Hall. These people were not worthy of sympathy. They just wanted to learn Chinese Kung Fu. Although they did not see the duel inside, the more than a dozen people who were thrown out of the crowd had already explained that whether it was the Japanese who looked like gods and ghosts or the strongman Peter, they were thrown out like broken sandbags.

A young disciple of the Jingwu School even stepped on the head of the Japanese, yelling something.

"What is he talking about?" Sheriff Hawks turned around and asked the Chinese owner in the store.
Chapter completed!