After leaving Medicine Master's residence, Song Shuhang arrived at the crisscrossing alleys of Great Fortune District five minutes later.
Then he blinked and gazed at the scene before him, which was both familiar and strange.
A dozen or so meters in front of him, eleven punks were clustered together. Their hair was dyed all sorts of colors, and they sported rows of earrings, nose rings, and lip rings. Their arms were covered in all kinds of strange tattoos.
For example, the tall punk who was leaning against the wall with one hand, pinning someone against it with a nasty grin on his face, had a cute little yellow duck tattooed on his arm.
And the short-haired beauty pinned against the wall by the yellow-duck punk was a young girl.
She was around 1.5 meters tall, with short hair and a pretty face that needed no makeup to look lovely.
Because of her petite build, she looked like nothing more than a high school student.
Cute and beautiful.
At this moment, the short-haired girl was leaning against the wall, her expression blank and her eyes filled with coldness.
"Beautiful, are you feeling lonely all by yourself here?"
"Want to come have some fun with us brothers?"
"It's free, and there are all kinds of pleasures."
"It'll feel really good."
"Your big brothers here will keep you company."
"There's a pretty good little shop right nearby. It's not far, and we guarantee you'll want to play again after we're done."
All kinds of lewd teasing and flirtation.
Not only was the scene familiar, even the lines sounded incredibly familiar! These days, did punks conspire over their lines before harassing decent girls? Just like in the legends, where bandits in ancient times had to shout, "This mountain was opened by me, and this tree was planted by me. If you want to pass through here, leave behind the road toll," before robbing someone?
Song Shuhang sighed and rubbed his temples.
As a good young man with all the proper virtues, he ultimately couldn't stand by and ignore such a scene. Although... the cute short-haired girl probably wouldn't thank him afterward. She might even accuse him again of meddling in other people's business.
But he still decided to rescue the girl once more—it was only a simple favor, after all.
That was why people said Song Shuhang should have been drowned in good-person cards long ago.
Shuhang clenched his fists and strode forward.
At this moment, the short-haired girl also saw him.
The indifferent girl finally failed to maintain her cool, iceberg-like expression when she saw Shuhang. The corner of her mouth twitched—these days, there really were people who loved meddling in other people's business this much.
"Annoying," the short-haired girl said softly.
"Yo? What did you just say, beauty? Are you agreeing to come with us brothers?" The yellow-duck punk leered. Keeping one hand against the wall, he reached toward the short-haired girl's face with the other.
The short-haired girl snorted coldly. Then, her arms, which had been folded across her chest, suddenly shot out. Fast as lightning, they grabbed the yellow-duck punk's head and forcefully pulled it toward her.
What was this? Was she going to kiss him? What a passionate little chick! The yellow-duck punk was delighted. He puckered his thick lips, his mouth full of drool, and prepared to savor the little beauty's cool lips.
And then... there was no then.
With a dull thud,
the yellow-duck punk felt a sharp pain in his forehead, as though he had been struck by an iron hammer. His vision went black, and he lost consciousness. Vaguely, he could still feel liquid flowing from his nose. Was it caused by the heavy blow to his head?
The short-haired girl remained cold and composed. After knocking the yellow-duck punk down with a headbutt, she tossed the unconscious punk aside like a piece of trash.
She was like an iceberg when motionless, yet explosively fierce once she moved. Even men rarely used headbutts in a fight, unless they had absolute confidence in the hardness of their skulls—otherwise, a headbutt usually injured both sides.
The girl looked provocatively at Song Shuhang, the corners of her lips lifting.
"Yellow, fuck! Yellow got wrecked! Don't die, Yellow!"
"Bitch! You'll pay for this!"
"We brothers will show you what it means to be as happy as an immortal!" The ten punks behind him roared furiously, their faces savage as they surrounded the short-haired girl.
The short-haired girl snorted coldly, raised a fist before her eyes, and spread her long legs slightly, settling into a horse stance.
The movement was smooth as flowing clouds and running water, graceful and handsome.
Cool!
The layman watched the spectacle, while the expert saw the skill. Even this little horse stance showed that the short-haired girl had solid fundamentals and was a trained fighter.
Unfortunately, Song Shuhang and the punks were all genuine laymen. All they felt was that the girl's pose was unbelievably cool.
"Ha!" The short-haired girl's fist was fast as lightning. She leaned forward, and her tender fist shot upward like a cannon, smashing into the chin of the punk in front.
Normally, even if this cute little fist struck someone's chin with all its strength, it would only hurt for a while. But the punk who took the blow was sent flying, tracing a beautiful arc through the air before crashing heavily to the ground.
The punks' pupils contracted, and they all froze, their mouths hanging open—impossible! How could such a cute girl throw such a terrifying punch?
They had frozen, but the short-haired girl had not stopped. She pivoted on her left foot, raised her right leg, and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick that sent the punk on her right sprawling. Taking advantage of the motion, she stepped down on him with her other foot.
Using the force of that step, she twisted at the waist. Her legs clamped around the neck of another nearby punk like pincers, and her body spun with the flexibility of a snake, flinging the punk away...
How was this a pitiful girl being pinned against the wall? She was practically a human killing machine, with every part of her body serving as a weapon, each capable of unleashing an attack!
And even more inhumanly, this human killing machine had activated Musou Mode too, ahhh!
In just over ten seconds, all eleven punks had been wiped out, lying on the ground in agony like corpses.
The short-haired girl patted at the nonexistent dust on her tight-fitting pants, then glanced at Song Shuhang again. She raised her head at a forty-five-degree angle and snorted coldly.
Then the short-haired girl turned around and left like a proud rooster, strutting away with her nose in the air.
Song Shuhang rubbed his chin and nodded seriously. "So I really was meddling in other people's business? No wonder she got angry."
Then he added in a low voice, "But come to think of it, I've seen her pinned against the wall by punks two days in a row. Could she have some special talent or constitution that attracts this sort of thing?"
In the distance, the short-haired girl, who had been leaving proudly, suddenly stiffened. The corner of her mouth twitched, and then she quickened her pace.
After the girl had gone far away, Song Shuhang crouched beside the punks and reached out to poke the yellow-duck punk.
The yellow-duck punk let out a pained groan. Good, he was still alive.
"Good. As long as you're not dead." Song Shuhang nodded in relief and left without worry...
He ultimately wasn't a rotten-to-the-core do-gooder. Since the punks weren't going to die, he was too lazy to call an ambulance for them.
Let them lie obediently on the ground for a while and gain some experience. Let their bodies remember: in the future, don't harass every pretty girl you meet!
Who knew? Maybe the girl could activate Musou Mode in the blink of an eye.
Besides, Song Shuhang didn't have time to waste with these punks—he still had to hurry back to the dormitory and wait for Master Profound Principle's "Flying Sword Message" to arrive.
A Flying Sword Message—this was the kind of divine technique that had only appeared in his dreams before. Now, it was about to materialize before his eyes. What would it look like?
And what would the Vajra Foundation Fist and True Self Meditation Scripture delivered by Flying Sword Message look like? Ancient thread-bound books? Even older bamboo slips? Or perhaps silk paintings or scrolls of beast hide?
Just imagining it felt wonderful.
The only trouble was that his roommates might already have returned to the dormitory. Would it be inappropriate to send a Flying Sword Message then? It would be hard to explain if they saw it, right?
Before you continue