Whose Fault

In the dead-end alley.

"Xu Zhiyong, I'm the one who picked up this chicken. Why should I have to give you so much of it?"

Fang Ming clutched the chicken tightly to his chest, his back pressed against the cold wall, his other hand struggling to pry Xu Zhiyong's grip off his collar.

His face was smeared with mud, his breathing ragged, and his eyes were filled with resentment and wariness.

"Why?"

Xu Zhiyong acted as if he had heard the greatest joke in the world, suddenly flinging his hand away:

"Fang Ming, whose idea was this?

It was mine!

Who screamed their lungs out in the alley, driving those beggars into a frenzy to charge forward?

It was me!

Who risked being beaten to death by that martial artist, rushing in to grab him and buy us time?

Still me!"

Xu Zhiyong grew more agitated as he spoke, stepping forward to loom over Fang Ming, his eyes bloodshot, spittle flying:

"Without me stirring up the chaos, without me desperately holding back that young martial artist, would you have even had the chance to pick up this chicken?

They would have had the meat long gone by now.

Now that it's about to reach our mouths, you're suddenly drawing lines between us?"

As he spoke, Xu Zhiyong reached out to snatch the chicken from Fang Ming's arms.

Fang Ming hurriedly dodged to the side, hugging the chicken tight, shouting urgently:

"Half at most! Not a bit more!"

Gurgle~

Both of their stomachs let out a dull growl at almost the same time.

The atmosphere between the two, who had been glaring at each other, suddenly softened.

Xu Zhiyong stared at the chicken in Fang Ming's arms, his Adam's apple bobbing. He suddenly forced a stiff smile, his tone turning conciliatory:

"Fine, half is half.

Don't waste time. Go get the dry branches we hid so we can roast this chicken and fill our bellies first."

Hearing Xu Zhiyong back down, the anger on Fang Ming's face vanished instantly.

He had said that just to ensure he could eat a little more.

Now that his goal was achieved, he let out a sigh of relief:

"Hehe, Brother Xu, you've come to the right person!

Roasting is my specialty!

Before the disaster, I used to take the family guards out to the mountains outside the city for barbecues every few days. Any meat that falls into my hands turns out fragrant and delicious!

Just watch, I guarantee you'll be begging for more!"

"Alright, hurry up then."

Xu Zhiyong clutched his chest, his brows furrowing, his tone carrying a hint of weakness:

"That martial artist slammed his elbow into my back earlier, and it still hurts like hell. I'm going to rest for a bit."

With that, Xu Zhiyong hunched his body and slowly shuffled over to a broken basket in the corner.

He slid down to sit with his back against the cold wall, his hand still pressed to his back, his face looking genuinely pale.

But as Fang Ming turned to rummage for the dry branches, his attention entirely on the chicken.

Xu Zhiyong's lowered eyelids suddenly snapped open, a flash of sinister light crossing his pupils, and a faint, imperceptible sneer curled his lips.

He had no intention of actually sharing half of this chicken.

Fang Ming crouched at the base of the wall, reaching into an inconspicuous hole.

He pulled out a bundle of tightly tied dry branches, his face beaming:

"Brother Xu, you really have talent!

Not only were you able to incite those beggars into a frenzy to provide us cover.

But you also saw at a glance that the young martial artist was kind-hearted, daring to tangle with him.

If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have had the guts or the eye for it.

Before the refugee crisis, you definitely weren't an ordinary person, right?"

As he spoke, he spread the dry branches on the ground, completely oblivious to the movement behind him.

Xu Zhiyong leaned against the wall, his brows slightly knit, pretending he was still in pain.

His peripheral vision remained locked onto the back of Fang Ming.

Taking advantage of the moment he turned to arrange the branches, he quietly bent down and picked up a sturdy, brown wooden club from beside his feet.

He swiftly hid the club behind his back.

He would wait until the chicken was roasted before making his move.

Once the food was about to be eaten, that would be when Fang Ming's guard was at its lowest.

It would also give him some time to rest and recover a bit of his strength.

That elbow strike he had taken from the young martial artist earlier had been solid.

It really hurt.

"It's nothing much," Xu Zhiyong said in a flat, perfunctory tone.

"I used to just guard the gate for the masters in town, scraping by for a living; it wasn't exactly a respectable trade.

It's nothing compared to Brother Fang, born into a wealthy family and living such a comfortable life."

Though he said this, he felt nothing but secret contempt in his heart.

This Fang Ming was born into wealth, yet he was nothing but a fool.

With such good conditions, he didn't study martial arts, spending his days only walking dogs, fighting cocks, and wasting his life on trifles.

If it were him, with that kind of family background, he would have long since apprenticed under a master and forged real skills.

He wouldn't be like this now, risking his life for a chicken and having to resort to such underhanded tricks.

Heh.

"A single glance, and he thinks he's kind-hearted?"

In the shadows of the wall, Li Yun raised an eyebrow, a strange and indescribable feeling rising in his heart.

He had held back.

He simply hadn't wanted to kill a beggar driven mad by hunger.

Yet he hadn't expected this to become the very opening for the other party to plot against him.

Tap.

Tap.

The footsteps were steady and powerful, sounding exceptionally clear in the dead-end alley, like heavy hammers striking the hearts of the two men.

Li Yun walked slowly out from the corner of the wall, his gaze indifferent.

Fang Ming was busy fiddling with dry branches, and Xu Zhiyong was still clutching the club hidden behind his back; both sensed the movement and looked up abruptly.

The moment they saw it was Li Yun, their breathing hitched in unison.

Fang Ming's mind instantly flashed back to what Xu Zhiyong had said about "him being kind-hearted."

His legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground with a thud.

"M-Martial Artist, sir!"

Fang Ming hurriedly pulled the chicken from his embrace and carefully placed it on the ground in front of him.

Thud, thud, thud. He kowtowed to Li Yun:

"I was wrong, I was truly wrong!"

Fang Ming cried with a mournful face:

"I've been starving for days and couldn't hold on any longer.

That's why I dared to 'pick up' this chicken. I beg you, sir, please show mercy and let me go this one time!"

Xu Zhiyong sat in the corner, his face pale, his eyes flickering.

He quietly shrank toward the base of the wall, trying to minimize his presence while his mind raced to calculate a way to escape.

Li Yun walked step by step until he stood before Fang Ming.

He stopped and looked down at the man sprawled on the ground, his tone so flat that neither joy nor anger could be detected:

"Wrong?"

Fang Ming's kowtowing paused, and he held his breath.

"No, you aren't wrong.

You were just hungry and wanted something to eat."

As soon as these words were spoken, Fang Ming froze, and then a burst of wild joy erupted in his eyes.

The corners of his mouth curled uncontrollably, revealing two rows of blackened teeth as he broke into a smile through his tears.

He hurriedly kowtowed two more times:

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"My lord, please see clearly, I was just starving, I meant no harm!"

Xu Zhiyong, huddled in the corner, raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes:

This guy, is he really that kind-hearted?

But Li Yun's next words were like a basin of ice water poured over the two of them, instantly freezing the air in the alley.

"And I."

Li Yun's gaze turned abruptly cold, shedding its previous indifference, leaving only a void of apathy:

"I was hired by the meat merchant to escort the cargo.

Stopping you, or even... killing you, is also not wrong."

The smile on Fang Ming's face stiffened, his mouth agape, yet he couldn't utter a single sound; it was as if the blood in his entire body had congealed in that moment.

"We are simply on different sides.

What is wrong is this world."

As the words fell, Li Yun did not hesitate in the slightest.

He jerked his knee up, his right leg sweeping out with the speed of a fully coiled whip, carrying a sharp, whistling tear through the air as it struck directly at Fang Ming.

BANG!

A dull, heavy thud echoed out.

It sounded like a heavy object slamming violently into an earthen wall.

Fang Ming didn't even have time to let out a scream before he was sent flying sideways, crashing heavily against the wall.

His body buckled in an unnatural shape, twitching uncontrollably for a few moments before falling still.

Li Yun slowly turned his gaze toward Xu Zhiyong in the corner.

That look was calm and rippleless.

Yet in Xu Zhiyong's eyes, it carried an invisible pressure, like a cold blade.

Devoid of even a shred of warmth.