The Celestial Screen continued, playing out scene by scene what had happened shortly before at the teahouse.
This completely cemented Li Zhao’s image in the hearts of the people of Foshan as a petty villain harboring deep resentment and shooting people in the back. Li Zhao himself felt like crying without tears. Huddled in the corner of the teahouse, he felt as aggrieved as a three-hundred-pound child who had lost his toy.
"I can swear before the lamplight that I, Li Zhao, do not hold even a shred of resentment toward Ip Man."
When his gun was confiscated back then, all he felt was sheer terror!
Li Zhao did not yet know that because of him, his family had also been implicated and subjected to public condemnation.
"I always said their family was no good. Look, even the heavens can't stand it anymore. Bah!"
"Usually, because they have someone at the police station, they act like they're the kings of the world. Borrowing a bit of rice from them is like cutting flesh off their own bodies. Conscience-less wretches."
"Shut your trap, you gossiping woman. The rice we borrowed from them hasn't been paid back yet. That Li Zhao even killed a wealthy young master like Ip Man; what if he decides to slaughter you along with them?"
"I'm not afraid. The heavens will surely punish their whole family."
"That's right. If the heavens won't do anything about it, I, Baldy, will mete out justice on behalf of heaven!"
With Li Zhao's "evil deeds" exposed by the Celestial Screen, compounded by the "righteous" instigation of certain malicious actors, it wasn't long before people began shouting slogans of "public outrage" and "acting on behalf of heaven." Not only did they curse and revile Li Zhao's family, but they also pelted his house with rotten eggs and spoiled vegetable leaves.
As more and more people joined in, it seemed that past grievances and unfair treatment had finally found an outlet for release. What made them feel even more at ease was that they were standing on the moral high ground, representing the side of justice.
Looking at the other side, Li Zhao's family was living in sheer misery, not even daring to take half a step outside their front door.
"Ah-Zhao is not like that. I gave birth to him, I know he isn't someone who would harm others, sob, sob..."
"Mother, please stop crying. But even the heavens... Sigh, perhaps younger brother... perhaps he had some unspeakable hardship."
"Eldest Brother, I believe Second Brother is not a bad person. There must be some mistake with the heavens, it has to be."
"Sob, I saw Second Brother beaten to death. My heart hurts so much, sob..."
...
[ "You must win some glory for us!" ]
[ "Need you ask? Looking at his bruised, pig-head face, of course he lost!" ]
[ "If you ask me, you're just being modest. You truly are the pride of Guangdong!" ]
[ "Everyone keep order, keeping order is the right thing to do! Master Ip! Master Ip!" ]
Following the broadcast of Jin Shanzhao's challenge to Ip Man, the people of Foshan held Ip Man's Wing Chun in even higher esteem.
"Ip Man of Foshan, Wing Chun—wow, those movements are as smooth as flowing water, it's simply art!"
"Too brilliant! Master Ip is amazing, defeating a northerner wielding a broadsword with just a feather duster."
"I want to go apprentice right now, I want to learn Wing Chun too!!"
"In your dreams! Didn't you see how many people went to beg for tutelage and were all turned away at the door?"
"Say, why do I feel something is a bit off? That Li Zhao doesn't look like he has a grudge against Master Ip at all."
"Indeed, if anything, it almost looks like he holds a bit of admiration for Master Ip."
Seeing public opinion regarding Li Zhao begin to shift, a self-proclaimed "truth-seeker" with supposed great wisdom suddenly popped up and offered a brilliant analysis:
"You guys are still too naive. If you ask me, this Li Zhao has an unfathomable scheming nature and is adept at disguise."
"Just think about it, with this kind of masquerade, he can lull Ip Man into lowering his guard. Who knows, he might even be able to learn Wing Chun."
"Clearly, Ip Man fell for his trick, which led to him later being shot in the back and killed by Li Zhao, avenging the humiliation suffered at the teahouse back then."
"This Li Zhao is truly unfathomably scheming!"
Needless to say, Li Zhao's reputation was ruined all over again. What greeted him and his family was a new wave of insults, accusations, rotten eggs, and spoiled tomatoes.
Just as the entire Foshan was discussing Wing Chun and daydreaming about mastering it to beat their opponents black and blue, a deafening roar and series of explosions suddenly rang out, successfully shattering everyone's fantasies.
The screen abruptly displayed images of aerial bombings and massive waves of heavily armed troops advancing. The entire screen was saturated with bloodshed and a dark atmosphere, engulfed in the flames of war where the people could barely survive.
[ July 7, 1937, the Marco Polo Bridge Incident broke out. The Japanese army launched a full-scale invasion of China, plunging the Chinese people into destitution with corpses littering the countryside. ]
[ Ip Man: "I want to take on ten!" ]
[ Li Zhao: "You're crazy, don't do this." ]
[ ... ]
[ Ip Man: "I am just a Chinese." ]
[ Li Zhao translating: "He says his name is Ip Man." ]
[ ... ]
[ "How am I a running dog? What do their deaths have to do with me? I'm just a translator, don't I need to eat? I need to eat!" ]
[ "I have no dignity, but you do, you have plenty! If you've got what it takes, you go fight them!" ]
[ "Beat them all to death, beat ten, a hundred, a thousand to death! I am a translator, not a running dog, I am a Chinese." ]
[ ... ]
[ "Hurry, leave, it's not safe here." ]
[ "Master, Madam, see if this fits. How is it? Are you getting used to living here?" ]
[ "That northerner, he reported to Miura that you're at the cotton mill. You must not go back, do you hear me?" ]
[ "Hang in there, I'll figure something out." ]
...
At the very end of the light screen, the image lingered on the opening scene: Ip Man shot, Li Zhao beaten to death, both falling to the ground together.
At this moment, the entire Foshan fell into a terrifying silence.
The Japanese army's full-scale invasion, corpses littering the wild—the streets that were once bustling and prosperous had turned lifeless under the baptism of war. They dared not imagine that all of this was real.
Every person's heart was filled with a towering rage.
July 7, 1937—less than half a year away from now.
Is this real?
Will Foshan truly fall in the future?
Foshan, a city of three hundred thousand people, would end up with only seventy-some thousand survivors left. This piece of intelligence made their scalps tingle.
Three hundred thousand people, and only a little over seventy thousand survived. What a heartbreaking and bloody number.
Among the dead would be relatives and friends, neighbors from down the street, and perhaps—just perhaps—themselves.
What should they do?
Is it still not too late to flee now?
Yet, with a full-scale invasion, where could one possibly flee?
And if they don't flee?
What could they possibly use to resist?
Did they not see that someone as formidable as Ip Man, whose iron fists knocked down ten Japanese martial artists, also chose to stand quietly aside and avoid conflict when facing a truck packed with Japanese soldiers?
At this moment, they were consumed by despair and helplessness.
....
"Impossible, impossible..."
Master Liao of the teahouse had the image of himself being shot in the head replaying endlessly in his mind. Cold sweat had already soaked through his back. Only shortly ago, he had brought his whole family to Foshan to open a martial arts school and take in disciples, never expecting that in just a few short months, a master of a hall would be reduced to being shot dead over a bag of rice.
How lamentable, how tragic!
....
As Sha Dan-yuan prepared to run away from home, the luggage in his hands dropped to the ground with a loud thud. In the Celestial Screen, his only brother, Wuchilin, was actually beaten to death alive by a Japanese officer.
This scene struck him like a bolt from the blue. No matter how great the grievances he had suffered at the teahouse earlier, at this moment they were entirely consumed by the agonizing pain of losing a family member.
"Brother, I was wrong, I was wrong, Brother! Please don't die, Brother!!"