98: Chapter 98 Who is the Unrivaled Young Generation of Xia Kingdom?

"Fine, I understand." Lin Tian smiled with a hint of amusement.

He also became extremely interested in this Li Shuwen who lived in legends.

Come to think of it, this guy had left San Francisco over a month ago, stopping and going along the way, and had actually dragged it out until now to reach New York; it was hard to know what he had experienced on the way.

Behind Lin Tian, a thirteen or fourteen-year-old white boy, who had been standing there obediently, couldn't help but poke his head out and look at the paper with Chinese characters, asking curiously:

"Mr. Bruce, is some extraordinary guest coming?"

Bruce handed the calling card to The Old Butler and turned his head to look at the white boy in front of him, smiling:

"You could say that, little John."

This boy with short golden hair was none other than the youngest son of the oil tycoon Rockefeller, and also the future John D. Rockefeller Jr.

Tonight, Lin Tian was originally invited by the elder Rockefeller to be a guest at his home.

As a result, when this little guy heard that Lin Tian was leaving, he insisted on coming along, pestering Lin Tian to give him more pointers on his Chinese martial arts.

Lin Tian hadn't expected that Li Shuwen would choose tonight to come and spar.

Meanwhile, the Li Shuwen who was being talked about by Lin Tian was lying unceremoniously on the crown of a tall beech tree not far from Lin Manor.

Leaning against a thick branch, he reached into his bosom and pulled out a large beef bun wrapped in layers of oil paper.

This was something he had specifically tucked into his bosom while eating at the CFC Fast Food Restaurant in the afternoon to save for dinner.

After all, being new to the place, he couldn't gauge Lin Tian's temper and didn't know if the other party would keep him for a meal.

Sure enough, although he had properly submitted his calling card in the afternoon, because Lin Tian was not at home, that white Old Butler in a tailcoat had a face as cold as ice, not even letting him through the gate, let alone inviting him for a cup of hot tea.

"Good thing I had a backup plan and hid a big bun."

Looking at the beef bun in his hand that had already gone cold, Li Shuwen comforted himself inwardly.

He stuffed the bun into his mouth in a few bites, chewed and swallowed it, then wiped his mouth fiercely with his coarse cloth sleeve.

"Now that I'm full, it's time to go find that Lin Tian and have a no-holds-barred fight!"

As the words fell, Li Shuwen's originally sleepy eyes shot out two terrifying rays of light.

He flipped over and leaped down from the dozen-meter-high treetop, landing without a sound.

Glancing at the long spear leaning against the tree trunk, wrapped tightly in white cloth, he skillfully hooked his toes upward; the spear whistled and spun a few times in mid-air before he grabbed it firmly in his hand.

Putting the long spear back on his back, Li Shuwen took large strides, each step as steady as a mountain, walking straight toward the brightly lit Lin Manor not far away.

When night had completely fallen and the entire outskirts of New York were shrouded in darkness, Lin Tian in the main hall received a report from Butler John.

The Chinese youth who had submitted the calling card in the afternoon was already standing at the manor's main gate.

"Let him in."

Lin Tian, who was personally correcting little John's martial arts movements in the center of the hall, spoke casually with a relaxed expression.

"Yes, Master." Butler John bowed and retreated.

Little John, who was holding a standard horse stance and was sweating profusely, couldn't help but ask curiously:

"Mr. Lin Tian, has the person who wants to challenge you arrived?"

"It should be him. Alright, little John, that's it for today's basic training, call it a day. Come with me to meet this true expert from back home." Bruce patted the boy's shoulder.

John D. Rockefeller Jr. breathed a huge sigh of relief and quickly retracted his stance to stand straight.

In fact, this was already the eighth year that little John had been learning martial arts from Lin Tian.

Back when Lin Tian was fighting the Russian strongman single-handedly on the ring, little John, who was accompanying the elder Rockefeller watching from below, had been completely captivated by that mysterious and powerful Chinese martial art.

In his eyes, Lin Tian on the stage was simply an existence like a god.

Later, he pestered his sister Elizabeth many times, crying and begging to become Lin Tian's disciple.

Lin Tian was really helpless against his pestering, and although he didn't accept him as a formal disciple, he promised to teach him some basic strengthening martial arts whenever he had time.

Lin Tian had originally thought that this young master of a wealthy family, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, would at most be interested for three days and would give up on his own within a few days because he couldn't take the hardship.

But who could have thought that little John had a kind of almost obsessive tenacity in his bones.

He gritted his teeth and persisted for a full eight years, practicing stances and punches every day, rain or shine.

Seeing this perseverance of his, Lin Tian was actually already considering starting to teach him some core power-generating techniques of the Lin family martial arts in the near future.

When Li Shuwen, led by The Old Butler, John, walked through the courtyard and entered the main villa, his sharp eyes kept scanning the surroundings.

Century-old towering trees, rare flowers competing for beauty in the night, and the statue of a goddess half-hidden in the water curtain in the center of the marble fountain.

Although this place didn't have the delicate exquisiteness of a Chinese garden, it exuded a kind of majestic grandeur everywhere.

When Li Shuwen stood in the center of the main hall on the first floor, the red coarse cloth robe he was wearing and his thin, resolute face looked particularly striking under the bright lights overhead.

He was like a pine tree rooted in rock, standing straight, exuding a faint yet powerful sense of oppression from his whole body.

This was a unique aura that only a top-tier expert who had practiced external martial arts into their very marrow would possess.

In fact, Lin Tian didn't know too much about the historical Li Shuwen.

Among the well-known martial arts masters of the modern era, Li Shuwen's fame among the people was actually far less than that of his contemporaries like Wong Fei-hung or Huo Yuanjia.

But in the eyes of true insiders, regarding actual combat lethality alone, those two combined might not necessarily be a match for Li Shuwen.

This was entirely because Li Shuwen's personality was too fierce and too upright.

Throughout his life, when sparring with others, he never knew what it meant to hold back; whenever he made a move, it was a killing blow with all his might.

Often in the blink of an eye, a single punch could leave his opponent either dead or crippled.

This was also the real reason why his "Baji Fist requires no second strike" became famous in the martial arts world—because anyone hit by his Baji Fist didn't need him to land a second punch.

This ruthless fighting style caused people in the domestic martial arts circle to either envy or fear him, and they cooked up quite a few vicious rumors about him behind his back.

This also resulted in his reputation in the traditional martial arts world always being somewhat polarized.

"I am Li Shuwen from Cangzhou, paying my respects to the Young Leader of Hongmen!"

After seeing Lin Tian clearly, the young Li Shuwen did not show any arrogance.

He clasped his fists tightly, bowed slightly to Lin Tian, and performed a standard martial arts salute among peers.

Given Lin Tian's terrifying net worth, which allowed him to turn the clouds and rain with a flip of his hand in America, and the massive power of Hongmen he controlled behind him, even if he returned to the Qing Empire, he wouldn't need to bow his head to that old woman ruling from behind the curtain in the Forbidden City.

Moreover, he had single-handedly reversed the tragic fate of hundreds of thousands of Chinese laborers being enslaved overseas; this monumental achievement was enough to make any red-blooded Chinese martial artist respect him from the bottom of their heart.

"You are Li Shuwen. I heard that you just arrived in San Francisco a while ago and challenged several senior martial arts masters in the local Chinatown?"

Lin Tian looked at him with a hint of appreciation in his eyes.

"That is indeed true."

Li Shuwen nodded straightforwardly, then raised his eyebrows in some disappointment:

"However, those so-called descendants of famous families were too disappointing to me; not a single one could fight."

"I originally thought that Chinese martial arts had been flourishing in America all these years, and that I could meet a few hidden experts in this place, but as it turns out... they were nothing special." Li Shuwen sighed and shook his head in disappointment.

The two of them communicated in pure Chinese the whole time, but little John and The Old Butler, John, who were watching from the side, were able to understand clearly because they had been following Lin Tian for many years.

Hearing this, Lin Tian smiled and waved his hand:

"You have to be understanding of those old masters who run martial arts schools; after all, their age is what it is, and they have long passed the age of being competitive."

"For a martial artist, strength is judged only by the fists; what does it have to do with age? I, Li Shuwen, am confident that even if one day I live to be eighty, these two fists will still be able to tear apart tigers and leopards!" Li Shuwen said with a serious face, his tone resolute.

Hearing this, Lin Tian couldn't help but inwardly retort: "The prerequisite is that you, brother, have to be able to live to eighty first."

If he remembered correctly, the historical Li Shuwen had died suddenly at the age of seventy-two because he had made too many enemies from his early martial arts duels, being secretly poisoned while drinking tea one day.

Of course, he naturally wouldn't expose this future trajectory that hadn't happened yet at this moment.

"Alright, enough small talk. You traveled thousands of miles from Cangzhou all the way to New York City just to specifically come and challenge me?"

"I heard that the Young Leader's Gu Ang Fist shocked the world years ago, and eight years ago you even defeated the Russian strongman, single-handedly establishing the prestige of our Chinese men. I, Li Shuwen of Baji Fist, have come today specifically to request instruction in the Young Leader's Gu Ang Fist!"

Every word Li Shuwen spoke echoed in the empty hall like a great bell tolling.

Lin Tian was silent for a moment, gently moving his somewhat rusty wrists. The carelessness in his eyes finally receded bit by bit, and he looked at Li Shuwen and spoke solemnly:

"To tell you the truth, Li Shuwen, I haven't fought anyone for real for a full eight years. It's not that I've been living in luxury and don't want to fight, but the opponents I've encountered in these few years have all been too weak—weak to the point where I don't even have the interest to lift my hand."

Having said this, Lin Tian slowly stood up, took off his suit jacket, and handed it to Butler John on the side, a long-lost fighting spirit igniting in his eyes:

"But it seems today, you are an opponent who can make me enjoy myself. Let's go, to the courtyard outside."