Duckweed in Troubled Times

The lead thug froze, then flew into a complete rage:

"Fuck!! You really have a death wish! A blind man carrying a little burden on his back, and you're acting tough? Tough my ass!

Brothers, kill him! Chop him into mincemeat and feed him to the dogs! Don't let that little brat go either!"

"Kill him!"

"Hack him to death!"

"Skin him alive!"

The thugs roared as one, drawing the weapons at their waists with a clatter. Faces twisted in savagery, they lunged at Zhang Sanxian, blades and axes hacking viciously at him and Little Fangzheng on his back.

But just as the lead thug's bloodshot eyes bulged and he brought his heavy-backed saber crashing down—when it was barely three feet above Zhang Sanxian's head—

Clang!

A clear, icy sword cry, as though it could freeze one's very soul, suddenly tore through thirty feet of air.

Fast.

So fast it defied description!

No one saw how the sword had been drawn. They saw only a silver line shining with utmost brilliance, like an ethereal immortal spirit flying from a distant mountaintop, abruptly illuminating the gloomy little town.

Pfft! Pfft!

Crack! Crack!

"Gaaah!"

"Ahhh, my arm!"

"Ahhh, my leg!"

Scarlet shot into the sky, blood splashing everywhere.

In the blink of an eye, the lead thug at the forefront had his raised saber and right arm severed cleanly at the shoulder by that silver line.

His severed arm and saber flew into the air, while a fountain of blood burst wildly from his shoulder stump. The vicious grin on his face froze in an instant, turning into utter agony and bewilderment as he let out a miserable howl and toppled backward.

The silver line did not pause in the slightest, sweeping through the crowd like Death's scythe.

The second thug to