Obsession

Old Tan Tea Restaurant.

Six or seven in the evening, the busiest time of the day. The ground floor, not particularly spacious, was packed with a dozen tables, each occupied by two or three people.

"Excuse me, thanks. Here is your beef brisket claypot rice."

A man who looked to be in his fifties, dressed in a white waiter's uniform, wove through the narrow, cramped gaps between tables, delivering orders and clearing dishes, busy beyond measure.

In the kitchen at the back of the restaurant, a chef and his assistant were equally tireless, stir-frying and prepping ingredients.

The old air conditioner hummed incessantly, blowing out cold air, yet it still struggled to lower the sweltering heat inside the restaurant.

Ding-ling—

The glass door of the tea restaurant was pushed open, and a short-haired man carrying a massive backpack walked in.

He scanned the bustling scene, walked straight to a table that hadn't been cleared yet, tossed his backpack aside, and sat down with a calm expression.

The fifty-something waiter, having just finished serving a table, walked over to the short-haired man. He glanced at the man's plain, rustic clothing, swept the dirty plates on the table to one side, and gave the surface a haphazard wipe with a rag.

He then pulled out a notepad and a ballpoint pen, asking with a hint of impatience, "What do you want to order? Our minimum spend is 40 dollars."

The short-haired man picked up the rag left on the table, wiped the surface meticulously, and without looking up, said, "Tell Jiang Pengyun that someone from Foshan has arrived."

"You are—"

The waiter, who had been somewhat indifferent, changed his expression instantly upon hearing this. He lowered his notepad and looked the short-haired man up and down, seemingly uncertain.

"You haven't mistaken me."

The short-haired man finished wiping the table clean before finally looking up.

"I understand."

The waiter, well over fifty, said nothing more and turned to head toward the counter to make a phone call.

"Wait—"

Before the waiter could leave, the short-haired man pointed to the menu on the wall. "Bring me three orders of your signature beef brisket rice."

Half an hour later.

The once busy and noisy tea restaurant was now empty. The kitchen fires were extinguished, and a "Closed" sign hung on the glass door.

Only the wrinkled old waiter stood by the counter, silently watching the short-haired man at the only occupied table, who was eating his beef brisket rice at a steady, unhurried pace.

Creeak—

Outside the restaurant, a vehicle screeched to a halt.

Moments later, the glass door was pushed open, and the elderly man in a Tang suit who had been drinking tea on the third floor earlier walked in, accompanied by two tall young men in suits.

Clatter—

After they entered, the old waiter who had been standing by the counter rushed to the door, pulled down the metal shutter, and locked the glass door before retreating to his spot by the counter.

"Ah Wu, why didn't you tell me you were coming to Hong Kong Island? I would have sent someone to Foshan to pick you up."

The elderly man in the Tang suit, seeing the short-haired man eating at the table, wore a beaming, enthusiastic smile and strode toward him.

The short-haired man ignored the elder's arrival, continuing to eat until he finished the last grain of rice. He wiped his mouth and said, as if mentioning something trivial, "My master passed away half a year ago."

"Uh—"

The elder in the Tang suit was slightly stunned, his expression turning melancholic. "I never imagined that, after a lifetime of poverty, Brother would actually..."

He shook his head and sighed, then looked at the short-haired man sitting before him, a smile returning to his face. "Ah Wu, since you're in Hong Kong Island, come work for me. I happen to need a master like you. I guarantee you'll earn more in a year than you could in a lifetime in Foshan. With you joining us, our Unity Hall will..."

"I don't think you understand."

The short-haired man didn't wait for the elder to finish. He stood up abruptly, his gaze level with the elder's. "I said my master has passed away, and I am now the head of the Unity Sect. I don't care about the grudges of your generation. Whether you were forced into running drug dens in Hong Kong Island or did it out of greed for wealth and power, it has nothing to do with me. Since my master didn't purge the sect back then, I won't either. But there is one thing—"

As he finished, the short-haired man's voice turned icy. "You are not worthy of the name 'Unity.' In this world, there is only one Unity Sect."

"Who the hell do you think you are, the Governor? You say we can't use it, so we can't?"

No sooner had the short-haired man finished speaking than one of the tall young men behind the elder pointed at him and shouted, his expression full of disdain.

Whoosh—

The short-haired man standing by the table flashed forward, appearing before the tall youth in an instant. He grabbed the youth's finger and, with a sharp crack, snapped it with ease.

The other youth standing nearby reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Carl K9 pistol. But before he could raise it, the short-haired man was already upon him, seizing his wrist and twisting it. The wrist bone fractured, and the pistol clattered to the floor.

The elder in the Tang suit witnessed this, his face turning dark as night. He stared at the short-haired man with cloudy, hateful eyes. "Your master was like this, and so are you. What era do you think this is? What can practicing martial arts do? Open a martial arts school? Only money can buy everything. Don't you understand that?"

The old waiter, who had been standing by the counter, had moved to the elder's side at some point, holding a pistol of his own, aimed directly at the short-haired man.

"Someone like you, who has even lost his martial spirit, will never understand."

The short-haired man looked indifferently at the elder's slack, out-of-shape frame, his eyes filled with profound disdain and contempt.

This contempt was not because the man had turned to the underworld or committed heinous acts; it was as if he had betrayed something sacred within the short-haired man's heart.

"Xiahou Wu, what exactly did you come to Hong Kong Island for? Just for the name of the 'Unity Sect'? What can you do without money? This is Hong Kong Island, a capitalist society!"

Provoked by the short-haired man's gaze, the elder erupted in fury, as if his deepest nerve had been touched, and roared.

Given his age and his level of composure, he would never have lost his temper like this over anyone or anything else.

Yet Xiahou Wu's gaze suddenly made him feel as if he were looking back several decades.

He saw himself, once standing under the scorching sun and pouring rain, rooting his stance and practicing his punches; himself, having smuggled into Hong Kong Island, relying on nothing but his martial arts and a daring spirit to carve out a world of his own; himself, when a whole gang of big shots were arrested, yet he managed to evade capture through his skills, eventually rising to become a figure of influence.

But somewhere along the way, the indulgence in wine and women had hollowed out his body, and practicing martial arts had become a distant memory.

Xiahou Wu paid no mind to the elderly man in the Tang suit's roar, nor did he glance at the handgun in the old waiter's hand. He seemed to harbor not a shred of fear at being held at gunpoint, simply walking back to the table where he had been eating, picking up his massive backpack, and patting it before turning to head toward the tea restaurant's entrance.

Just before stepping out, he paused, tilting his head slightly, his eyes burning with hidden flames.

"First the fists, then the legs, then the grappling; internal arts and weapons, all five as one. There is no longer a martial arts world on the mainland, only here on Hong Kong Island. I will topple the martial arts world of Hong Kong Island, restore the glory of the Unity Sect with honor, and become the greatest under heaven."

Having said this, Xiahou Wu pulled open the glass door of the tea restaurant, lifted the rolling shutter, and strode out into the bizarre and dazzling night market.

"You are a madman!"

Behind him, there was only the hysterical roar of the elderly man in the Tang suit.

Thank you all for your support, here is an extra chapter. By the way, happy Mid-Autumn Festival to everyone!! It seems I missed the actual day!