Early the next morning, the entrance to the Wang family residence was already bustling with activity. Firecrackers boomed and gongs and drums thundered. Across the street, a gilt plaque bearing the five large characters "Mo Xian Martial Hall" hung high above the shop, its strokes flying like dragons and phoenixes. It was an imposing sight.
Wang Weiguo's heart ached as he watched, his face twitching. This was real gold! That wastrel had said he wanted gold, and he had used gold without the slightest hesitation! Still, looking at the lively scene before him, Wang Weiguo felt that the money had been well spent.
Dressed in a blue robe, Xuan Mo stood at the entrance of the martial hall with his hands behind his back, smiling as he welcomed those who came to seek instruction. Of course, most of them had come to watch the excitement. After all, who wouldn't be curious about someone capable of moving a fake mountain down from the heavens?
"Oh my, isn't this Master Wang? You're..."
"Boss Li, long time no see, long time no see! Ha-ha, my worthy nephew has just opened a martial hall, so I came to show my support!"
Wang Weiguo beamed, exchanging pleasantries with everyone he met as though he were the one who had opened the martial hall.
"Mo Xian Martial Hall? What an arrogant name! Aren't you afraid the wind will be so strong it'll make you bite your tongue?"
A strange, mocking voice came from the crowd. Everyone turned toward it and saw a burly man with a face full of coarse flesh entering, followed by several thickset disciples.
"Isn't that Boss Zhao of the Black Tiger Gang?"
"I heard he received the true teachings of a Shaolin Temple monk. With his Black Tiger Fist, he's undefeated throughout