Yellow Bird

The masked man sprinted madly ahead. He knew this web of backstreets and dark alleys as well as his own backyard.

His figure flashed past corners piled with junk, sometimes vaulting over low courtyard walls, sometimes squeezing through gaps barely wide enough for a sideways body, as nimble as a loach.

An ordinary person chasing him in would probably be left dizzy after two or three turns, unable even to catch sight of his shadow.

However, the person pursuing him from behind was completely different.

Not only was he terrifyingly fast, but he also possessed an almost frightening precision.

He relied hardly at all on his vision. Merely by catching the faintest footsteps ahead, the rustle of clothing, even the rhythm of breathing, with his ears, he could clearly map out the fugitive's route in his mind.

Every sharp turn the masked man made, every false sound he deliberately created, was like a stone falling into still water—only serving to point the tracker in the right direction.

The distance between them was shrinking at a visible rate.

In no more than seven or eight breaths, an even faster shadow had latched onto him like a parasite clinging to bone. It made no sound, yet carried a heart-pounding pressure, as though darkness itself were drawing in its net.

I can't escape!

Fighting would be nothing but suicide!

The masked man knew as clearly as a mirror that his pursuer was far stronger than he was.

To save himself, the masked man was decisively ruthless. He suddenly pulled out the heavy money pouch from his robes, the one he had only just gotten and had not even had time to warm.

With all his strength,

he hurled it viciously toward the source of the pursuer's sounds.

"Clang!"

The money pouch smashed into a pile of debris in the distance with a dull thud. Several pieces of broken silver even bounced out of its opening, glinting faintly in the weak light.

The next instant,

the ghostlike pursuer barely paused. His body spun smoothly through the air, kicking up a clear whistle of wind, before he charged toward where the money pouch had landed.

"Thank goodness..."

The masked man let out a long breath. Not daring to delay in the slightest, he frantically drove his Blood Qi into his legs and sprinted down another fork in the road in the completely opposite direction.

By that pile of debris in the distance,

Chen Cheng crouched down, picked up the money pouch and every fallen piece of silver, stuffed them all into his clothes, then turned and swiftly vanished through another narrow gap.

Tonight, Chen Cheng had originally intended to visit White Ape Hall and settle the old debt of ten taels of silver with Chen Hao.

Who would have thought that the moment he arrived nearby, he would spot a masked man sneakily following Chen Hao into a dark alley? Not long after, Chen Hao's miserable cries for help rang out.

Only then had Chen Cheng chased after them.

He had thought a vicious battle would be unavoidable. He had even prepared to expose his identity and kill them to silence them.

Yet in the end, the other side did not even dare face him. The speed and pressure he displayed alone had shattered their nerve. Like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bowstring, they had voluntarily paid to avert disaster.

Feeling the heavy weight pressing against his chest, Chen Cheng gained a few new insights into the meaning of strength.

As long as one was strong enough, many problems did not need to be solved through fists pounding flesh and battles to the death.

Strength was actually far more than just power.

Speed, perception, planning, preparation, even mysterious luck and an aura that could only be felt but not spoken of... all of them were part of strength.

Make any one of them powerful and refined, and it could be turned into real gains and conveniences.

Chen Cheng did not slow his steps, while his mind quickly reviewed several things he had done recently.

The reason things had gone so smoothly was not brute force, but prior planning and preparation, as well as the choice of when to act.

As the saying went, opportunities were reserved for those who came prepared.

Another saying went, a choice mattered more than effort.

Leaving aside anything else, simply choosing to act tonight had been wiser than acting at any other time. It could be said that he had expended the least effort to reap the greatest gains.

Moreover, aside from the gains, all the forces in South Outer City were on edge tonight. On the surface, the slums had already descended into chaos, while beneath the table, the undercurrents were surging even more fiercely.

Such a situation was best for fishing in troubled waters. In the end, the various sides would most likely wrangle and shift blame everywhere. Many matters would turn into muddled accounts and be left unresolved.

That masked man had most likely harbored the same idea. He could not be called anything but clever. Unfortunately, no matter what, he could never have imagined that while the mantis stalked the cicada, the Yellow Bird waited behind!

At the border between Bitter Locust Village and Kuhe Village stood a large courtyard built of rammed earth, its walls planted with faded, tattered wolf-head banners.

In the past, this place had been the den where the Black Wolf Gang's leaders gathered.

Now, it had become a broken pot set over a raging fire.

Cries of slaughter, howls, the muffled crashes of earthen walls collapsing, the crackling of clutter burning in the Inner Courtyard... all blended together, tearing at the night sky.

Figures surged and slaughtered one another madly along the boundary between firelight and darkness, like a pack of emotionless wild beasts.

Chen Cheng hid in a dark, awkward corner in the distance, silently watching it all.

According to his original calculations, the Black Wolf Gang's calamity was the perfect chance to fish for gains and pick up the leftovers.

After all, every last one of the Black Wolf Gang's members were beasts who did no human things. Killing them and taking their wealth gave him not the slightest psychological burden.

But this scene...

His gaze swiftly swept over several figures at the edge of the battlefield who appeared relaxed but actually possessed a solemn bearing, then passed over the gang members in different-colored clothing who were scrambling to rush in and kill.

At least four or five different gangs had gotten involved here, and there were genuine experts holding down the fort.

Too many people, too many eyes, too much chaos, too much danger...

Forcing his way in now, not only would he fail to gain anything, he would probably end up covered in trouble.

At that thought,

he decisively chose to retreat. If there was an opportunity, he would act; if there was none, he would withdraw. He would never linger or hesitate.

Bitter Locust Village.

Inside a cramped, foul-smelling shack riddled with drafts.

Old Chen crouched in the shadows by the door, listening to the constant sounds of killing outside. His entire old face had twisted into a knot, and cold sweat had long soaked his back.

Chen Yong huddled in a corner by the wall not far away, his eyes fixed tightly on a drafty gap in the wallboards. His fists clenched and loosened, loosened and clenched, until his fingernails had already gouged through his palms.

Madam Wang was the most panicked of all.

She curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a thin, patch-covered quilt, trembling all over like chaff in a sieve.

One moment she pricked up her ears to listen to the sounds outside; the next, she clutched the pillow with nervous desperation.

"Chen Cheng... that little beast... really was right... How many people came to deal with the Black Wolf Gang...? It hasn't stopped since nightfall..."

Madam Wang's voice trembled, thick with tears.

"A-Hao... he was still calling several Black Wolf Gang leaders brothers just a few days ago... If the Black Wolf Gang is really finished... those people who've killed until their eyes turned red... will they, will they even come for us too...?"

"Shut up!"

Old Chen snarled in a suppressed voice, though his own voice was trembling as well.

"What are you wailing for...? Afraid others won't hear you? Do you want to bring trouble to our door yourself?"

"Don't be afraid... Don't be afraid."

Chen Yong said, putting on a show of calm.

"No matter what, A-Hao is still a legitimate Martial Artist of White Ape Hall. If they won't respect the monk, they'll respect the Buddha. Those gangs definitely won't make things difficult for us."

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