Fang Yuan knew full well that although he was comparable to a First-grade Martial Artist, openly clashing with the local tyrants at the foot of this county city, where hidden dragons and crouching tigers abounded, was hardly wise. A hero did not suffer an immediate loss.
Yet they had barely moved a few steps.
"Who dares cause trouble here?!"
A deep shout exploded like muffled thunder, carrying an unquestionable authority!
From inside the city gate, a middle-aged man in his forties strode out.
He wore well-tailored black fitted clothes, with a vicious tiger head embroidered over his chest—the emblem of Black Tiger Hall.
He was not particularly burly, but his steps were steady, his gaze sharp as an eagle's, and his entire bearing lean and capable, far beyond the likes of San Laizi.
The moment he appeared, the surrounding soldiers and street thugs instinctively reined themselves in.
The middle-aged man swept his gaze over the scene, instantly grasping the situation. At last, his cold eyes locked onto Fang Yuan, filled with scrutiny and pressure.
"Was it you, boy, who injured men from Black Tiger Hall and caused trouble here?"
Fang Yuan shielded Liu Wanwan and Little Bean Sprout behind him. Facing this middle-aged man, who was clearly a martial artist,
his expression remained calm as he spoke lightly, his voice carrying clearly across the scene.
"The travel permit was bought with five taels of silver from your Black Tiger Hall men. We are merely refugees seeking a way to survive by entering the city."
He paused, meeting the middle-aged man's gaze as his tone abruptly sharpened.
"If you keep pushing us, don't blame me—for fighting to the death!"
At those words, the middle-aged man's eyes flickered slightly, but he did not attack at once.
He carefully sized Fang Yuan up.