Seeing that their status as international friends was useless, the foreigner leading the group could only turn to a companion beside him and say in a low, helpless voice, "Toby, hold him off. The rest of you, leave with me first. Remember, settle this peacefully if possible. Even if we have to fight, try not to make a big deal out of it. Our identities can't be exposed, so don't attract the police's attention unless absolutely necessary."
"Okay." The man named Toby nodded, stepped in front of Zhang Heng, and used his tall body to block Zhang Heng's view. Then, in clumsy Chinese, he asked, "Where is it? We didn't see any signs on the way here saying we couldn't catch butterflies. Besides, I caught this butterfly for my daughter to keep. Today is her birthday."
While he spoke, the other three quietly backed away in perfect coordination, intending to pass through the flowerbeds and reach another path to their right. But the next moment, one of them turned around and saw the companion left behind to stall Zhang Heng collapse to the ground without a sound.
He was startled and immediately shouted to the person in front, "Tom, something's wrong!"
The remaining two also hurriedly stopped, while the man who had called out had already pulled a folding knife from his pocket.
What he had not expected was that the man opposite him moved even faster. One second, Zhang Heng had still been about ten meters away; the next, he was already in front of him. Before he could even fully open the folding knife, a fist had already struck his lower abdomen.
Zhang Heng ignored the guy who crumpled over clutching his stomach and quickly lunged at the Asian man in front of him. Warned by his companion,