Harmony is Precious

Luo Bin wore a set of gray fine-cotton short-sleeved clothes, the fabric finer and more durable than the coarse cloth before, with a better fit and tight cuffs that offered no hindrance when raising a fist to strike.

These were ready-made clothes bought from a tailor shop in the city over the past few days. After changing his attire, he no longer looked like the bitter, downtrodden man he once was.

Now, as he looked up at Zhang Xin, a faint aura of authority radiated from him.

"What happened to Aunt Wen?"

Zhang Xin's thoughts were muddled, his answers disjointed: "Outside... new people... causing trouble."

Before Luo Bin could get up, a commotion erupted from the front courtyard—several familiar women's scolding voices, along with the clatter of sticks and clubs.

Wen Li, carrying a sun-dried mattress pad in her arms, stood behind a few older women, her eyelids slightly red and swollen.

One of the older women, wearing an apron and holding a charred wooden stick, pointed at a group of unfamiliar men in front of her:

"A man needs his face like a tree needs its bark! Coming here fresh and already laying hands on a widow—bastards raised without a mother, no sense of decency at all?!"

"Take a piss and look at yourselves—what are you? A dark, scarred face like a toad dreaming of swan meat, daring to mess with Sister Wen?"

"Filthy scum, spineless cowards! Got the guts to go to the main hall and tangle with the big shots there?"

At the height of her tirade, the woman slammed the charred stick hard against the ground, the bluestone slab ringing with a sharp clang, spittle flying straight onto the scar-faced leader's shoe.

The woman was Zhang Xin's wife. She had worked in the Pei family kitchen for over a decade, wielding a cleaver for both chopping vegetables and people—the fiercest among the women and children in the courtyard.

Once she started cursing, the dozen or so women beside her erupted, their voices crackling like frying beans as they hurled insults:

"That's right! Where were those dirty hands reaching just now?!"

"What did Sister Wen ever do to you? Don't you know whose turf this is? This place is under Brother Luo's say now, you pig-headed fool—how dare you yap here?!"

Wen Li was shielded behind several women, clutching the folded mattress pad tightly, her fingertips pale and her eyes red and swollen... The face she had deliberately smeared with dirt to appear ugly had faded, revealing fair skin beneath.

She wasn't unfamiliar with filth. During those years in the Pei family, to survive, she had bound her chest and played ugly, enduring countless lecherous glances. But now that she finally had a stable place to stay...

She had been cornered by the moon gate and publicly harassed... Though personal grievances were the cheapest thing in this compound, the humiliation choking Wen Li's chest refused to dissipate.

The scar-faced man was named Liu Lang, the leader of this group of twelve. Feng Yi had tipped them off earlier—these men seemed to have been brought in by Luo Wendi from the "Moon Veil Nightclub" and the outer city walled settlements.

Most were desperados, refugees, and small-time gang enforcers...

Though not from the legendary martial families or martial masters, they still posed a threat to Xu Ping and the others... After all, while the old crew had worked as guards before, they lacked the bloodthirsty ruthlessness of these men who lived on the edge of a blade...

Ping City sat between Jinmen and Tianhai, not only along the edge of the Li River but also as a land transport hub. Though it lacked the extravagant miles of foreign concessions like Tianhai, it was still a mid-tier city of its time.

In the dark alleys and backstreets, there was never a shortage of low-level scavengers scraping by, or idle, vicious troublemakers.

Liu Lang had previously worked at the Moon Veil Nightclub, managing the floor and keeping order. Back then, even "opera stars," "foreign bank managers," and "compradors" treated him with respect.

Now, humiliated in front of these "surrendered soldiers," the anger in his chest was ready to explode, and the wicked fire stirred by that pretty little widow burned all the hotter.

"A bunch of stinking bitches with foul mouths? Come on, brothers, loosen your belts and give 'em a wash!

A little widow barely scraping by—what's with the virtuous act?" Liu Lang slammed his stick hard against the ground.

"Brother Luo? A pretty boy who climbed up by killing his own brothers, protecting a worn-out shoe—what's stopping me from touching her?"

Of the eighteen old hands under Luo Bin, most had been assigned jobs by Black Sheath Hall—unloading cargo at the docks, watching venues, or helping out at the hall's shops.

Only six or seven remained in the compound now. Liu Lang's gang of bloodthirsty scum swept their eyes over the scene, saw the advantage was theirs, and immediately grabbed whatever weapons they could find in the yard.

Shoulder poles, whetstones, wooden sticks, planks.

Thump!

A dull, heavy strike rang out. Liu Lang's wooden stick swung around and slammed into Xu Ping's back. The latter stumbled forward a few steps, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Then his face twisted into a snarl: "Son of a bitch! Hall Master Luo saved our lives—out of respect for him, we wanted to settle this without fighting. But you animal thinks you're above the law?!"

Xu Ping snatched the cleaver from Zhang Xin's wife, lunged forward, and slashed several times, but each strike was blocked by Liu Lang's tung-oil-soaked stick. The cheap cleaver blade was already chipping.

The few brothers nearby clashed with Liu Lang's thugs in a chaotic brawl—some grabbing hair, others wrestling each other to the ground in a tangled mess.

Xu Ping found an opening and slashed at Liu Lang's ribs, but the dull blade only drew a little blood.

Zhang Xin's wife quickly shielded Wen Li and a few other women, retreating to the side, just as Zhang Xin's shout came from the moon gate in the back courtyard:

"Stop fighting, stop fighting! We're all on the same side—what's this brawling for?!"

Whoosh—

A piercing sound tore through the air as a tall, straight figure swept into the fray like a white ape leaping between branches.

Arm-Through Power surged from his waist and spine, through his shoulders and back, all the way to his fist. Luo Bin's right fist, which had been hanging at his side, slammed solidly into Liu Lang's face.

Crack—

A brittle, teeth-grinding sound of bone breaking exploded. The man's nose and cheekbone collapsed under the punch, his body flying sideways as if struck by a battering ram.

Luo Bin walked slowly toward where the man had fallen. The lightning-fast exchange had drawn the collective gaze of both groups.

"Your name is Liu Lang? Not a bad surname, but you don't live up to it."

"Hah—hah—"

Liu Lang's face was a mess of torn and sunken flesh, a rasping sound like a broken bellows wheezing from his throat. He choked and gasped for a long time without uttering a single word. By the medical standards of Luo Bin's past life, that punch alone would warrant at least a diagnosis of a concussion.

Luo Bin stopped in his tracks and said flatly, "You're quite fond of women, aren't you?"

"Heh-heh—"

Liu Lang began to struggle wildly, but his body seemed to have already lost some control over his consciousness. He could only watch as a shoe sole directly above his eyes slowly moved downward past his body.

At a certain moment, another wave of excruciating pain struck.

That part of the body, the fifth limb, was instantly reduced to a bloody pulp, soaking through Liu Lang's crotch...

On the other side, Zhang Xin was still pulling at Xu Ping, rambling on: "How did you get into a fight? Are you hurt? Harmony is precious, harmony is precious..."

"I'm fine, but they seem to have some trouble."

Zhang Xin checked him over. "As long as you're okay, that's what matters."