Section 118: Rescued

Page 1/3

Old Meng suddenly felt a sharp pain beneath his ribs, a tingling numbness rapidly spreading throughout his body. Startled, he lost control and collapsed directly onto the beggar beneath him. Only then did he realize that the seemingly lifeless beggar on the ground was actually staring straight at him with wide-open eyes.

The chilling gaze sent a shiver through his heart.

Ye Zhong’s martial arts training in Black Horn had been rudimentary, yet it included many techniques designed to incapacitate an opponent with a single move—striking nerve-dense areas to disable bodily control. In Black Horn, these were basic techniques; it was said there were countless other astonishing methods that defied comprehension.

Just now, Ye Zhong struck without warning, a precise, disabling blow!

He couldn’t help but smile bitterly to himself. That seemingly simple move had drained more than half of his carefully conserved energy, leaving his breathing rapid and shallow.

Under ordinary circumstances, Ye Zhong would never have spared such a man. That powerful-looking brute before him would have surely been finished by that single strike. But now, he was too weak to kill.

This method, though efficient and effortless, had a limited window of effectiveness. After a short while—not long—the enemy would regain control of their body, unharmed. Then, the unfortunate one would be Ye Zhong himself.

Now, all he could hope was to recover some strength before his opponent revived, to strike decisively and end the threat once and for all.

With that thought, the murderous intent in Ye Zhong’s eyes became unmistakable.

Old Meng, lying atop Ye Zhong, caught that deadly look. Terrified, he screamed hoarsely, “Ah! Why can’t I move? Mom! Lao Ping! Lao Pi! Come save me! Damn it, I’ve been ambushed! Hurry up!”

His previously rough voice now sounded sharp and desperate.

Ye Zhong was startled—did the man have accomplices? Ignoring energy conservation, he pushed the heavy man off himself. The weight was immense. Weak and trembling, Ye Zhong struggled to stand.

If there were others nearby, lying prone would mean certain defeat. He glanced at the trembling little girl crouching and covering her eyes, a warm feeling flickering in his heart.

He would do his best.

Though the situation was grim and the odds against him overwhelming, Ye Zhong held no complaints or regrets.

If they wanted to kill him, it would cost them dearly. A ruthless gleam flashed through his dark eyes, causing Old Meng, who had been watching closely, to tense and warn urgently, “Lao Ping! Lao Pi! Watch out! This guy is ruthless!”

Lao Ping and Lao Pi approached cautiously, their faces grave.

Old Meng’s sudden fall stunned them. Only when he called for help did they realize he had been ambushed.

Seeing the beggar stagger to his feet as if a breeze might topple him reassured them somewhat. Still, upon hearing Old Meng’s warning, their expressions grew serious. Despite Old Meng’s rugged appearance, his mind was sharp.

When they saw the beggar’s calm expression in such dire straits, free of fear, they realized this man was not ordinary.

Lao Ping’s face softened as he spoke slowly, “Friend, this is all a misunderstanding. Our companion here saw this little girl and thought she was very cute, so we just wanted to play a joke…”

Meanwhile, Lao Pi stealthily circled behind Ye Zhong. The three had worked together for years, their coordination seamless. Lao Ping tried to placate first with words, while Lao Pi prepared a sneak attack—a tactic that usually worked, as most opponents would listen before reacting.

Page 2/3

What they hadn’t expected was that this time they faced Ye Zhong, who abhorred any idle talk before battle.

Ye Zhong ignored Lao Ping’s words entirely, suddenly turning and delivering a weak kick to the nearest assailant, Lao Pi, startling him. Starting a fight so abruptly was rare! Yet seeing the feeble strength behind the kick, Lao Pi relaxed.

Lao Ping, sensing the moment, ceased talking and attacked from behind Ye Zhong, raising his foot to kick.

Lao Pi, seeing the limp leg, chuckled and didn’t resist, moving swiftly to close in on Ye Zhong.

Suddenly, Ye Zhong’s previously weak leg shot up like a striking viper, flashing a deadly crimson tongue—the target was Lao Pi’s throat. Had the kick landed solidly, it would have shattered the windpipe, ending his life.

Panicked, Lao Pi had no time to dodge and crossed his hands in front of his face, shielding both his head and throat.

Bang! Ye Zhong’s foot struck Lao Pi’s hands. Just as Lao Pi marveled at the unexpected strength behind the kick—much stronger than anticipated—Ye Zhong suddenly pushed harder. Lao Pi felt his hands crushed closer to his face, and in alarm, he forced them apart with all his might.

In desperation, Lao Pi’s exertion was considerable. Lao Ping felt his attack lighten and breathed a sigh of relief.

Using the force of Lao Pi’s push, Ye Zhong shot backward like an arrow toward Lao Ping.

Lao Pi had already kicked out and couldn’t react further.

Ye Zhong planted his hands on Lao Ping’s raised right foot and, taking advantage of the momentum, slipped into his embrace. Like a venomous snake coiling rapidly up a leg, Ye Zhong sprang upward.

Lao Ping’s right leg buckled under the strain, his balance lost. There was no chance to counter.

Ye Zhong closed his eyes, feeling a sharp pain at the top of his head, and groaned softly.

A crisp cracking sound echoed—a bone shattering!

Lao Ping collapsed flat on his back, unmoving for a long while.

In that instant, Ye Zhong’s head had struck Lao Ping’s chin with such force that his jawbone fractured. The chin is a sensitive part of the body; the severe trauma immediately knocked Lao Ping unconscious.

Ye Zhong and Lao Ping tumbled together. That calculated move had drained every ounce of Ye Zhong’s strength. Now, he couldn’t even move a finger. Having just used his head to strike, his own head was dizzy and painful.

Stars swirled before his eyes, and his vision blurred.

In a daze, he saw the last man shrinking back toward him, and behind him, a black shape growing larger.

What was that black shape?

Everything around him grew dimmer; the sounds receded like a tide pulling him away.

“Nannan, I did my best,” was Ye Zhong’s final thought before darkness swallowed him, unconscious.

Page 3/3

Ye Zhong suddenly opened his eyes to a completely unfamiliar setting. “Mu, Shang, are you there?” he called out immediately, seeking Mu Shang to understand what had happened.

Normally responsive, Mu Shang was silent now. Ye Zhong recalled how Shang had depleted his energy last time.

Then the battle came back to him all at once. He wondered how Nannan was doing—hopefully safe. Otherwise, he would likely be dead already; he never expected those three to spare him.

Carefully examining his body, he moved his limbs; all felt normal. His wounds had healed. The long-lost feeling of strength filled him with satisfaction. If those three were before him now, Ye Zhong was certain he could kill them all within five seconds.

He checked his belongings carefully. Yes, the pendant around his neck was still there—it was his most important item, capable of summoning Mu Shang. The fish-shaped spatial button on his finger remained. His waist pouch was intact, as was the dagger at his side. This brought some comfort.

Having taken stock, Ye Zhong began to survey his surroundings.

He sat on a very soft bed in a cramped room, pitifully small compared to the quarters he had lived in before that could house a light armor. The pale green walls were decorated with numerous trinkets, enlivening the space.

In one corner stood a compact water purification machine; in another, a pile of textile-crafted animal figures. What were they for? Ye Zhong wondered, perhaps for target practice? Yet many of the animal shapes were exaggerated and far from realistic.

Strange things, he thought.

At that moment, two sets of footsteps approached. Alert, Ye Zhong immediately got off the bed, ready to counterattack.

Bang! The door was pushed open.

It was Nannan. Even when the door was barely ajar, Ye Zhong’s sharp eyes saw who it was.

Nannan entered, seeing Ye Zhong standing in the center of the room, and cheered joyfully, “Big brother, you’re awake! That’s wonderful, wonderful!”

Her happiness overflowed.

But Ye Zhong’s gaze was fixed on the dark-skinned man behind her.

About thirty years old, the man’s skin was very dark, his upper body bare, muscles bulging intimidatingly. Yet his smile looked simple and honest. He followed Nannan cautiously, as if afraid she might fall.

Judging by his build, Ye Zhong guessed the man’s strength was considerable.

Noticing Ye Zhong’s attention, the dark-skinned man grinned broadly, his perfectly aligned teeth dazzlingly white.

Nannan, clever as ever, tugged at Ye Zhong’s pants and said in a childish voice, “Big brother, this is my Black Brother. He loves Nannan the most. That day, luckily Black Brother came looking for me, or else you and I would have been bullied!”

Through Nannan’s jumbled but heartfelt story, Ye Zhong finally pieced together what happened afterward. The growing black shape behind the last man was Black Brother’s light armor; he had saved Ye Zhong’s life at the critical moment.

Ye Zhong thanked him earnestly, “Thank you for saving me.”

The dark man replied simply, “Ah, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. I should be the one thanking you. If not for you, who knows what would have happened to Nannan…” He stopped, clearly fearful of the situation.