Retreat

By this time, the Three Harmonies Gang's thugs had already led their men to the home of Zhao Youfu, Zhao Feng's eldest uncle.

"How many people are in your family? Hand over the money, now! Two qian of silver per person," said the burly man in blue at the head of the group.

"Good sir, our family truly has no money left." Zhao Youfu, already frightened pale, came out and repeatedly bowed as he begged for mercy.

To support Zhao Sheng's martial arts training, he had not only sold the cow, but also everything valuable in the house. They truly had nothing left. The couple had even gone back to wearing their old, tattered clothes.

"I think you're tired of living," the man in blue snapped.

"Good sir, please don't hit him yet!" At that moment, Qian Shi, his eldest aunt, stepped forward.

"My son studies martial arts in the county town. He's a martial artist too. Could you give us some face and let this pass?"

"Your son is a martial artist?" The man in blue froze, his expression immediately turning solemn.

Not daring to be careless, he turned and left at once.

The moment Qian Shi and Zhao Youfu saw the Three Harmonies Gang men leave, they let out a sigh of relief and straightened their backs. "Did you see that? My son is a martial artist, so they don't dare touch our family." Qian Shi smugly told the neighbors.

"Looks like learning martial arts really is the way to go." The neighbors looked at them with envy.

But not long afterward, a burst of hurried footsteps sounded. The man in blue who had just left returned, following behind Wang Kui.

"Your son is a martial artist?" Wang Kui asked.

"Yes." Qian Shi stood tall as she spoke.

"What's his name? Which martial hall does he train at?"

"My son is Zhao Sheng. He trains at the Zheng Clan Martial Hall." Qian Shi answered proudly.

"Zhao Sheng, Zheng Clan Martial Hall?" Wang Kui frowned and gestured to the adviser beside him. The adviser took out a booklet and flipped through it.

Then he shook his head at Wang Kui.

"Damn it, you old hag, you dared play me!" Wang Kui flew into a rage and stepped forward to slap her. Qian Shi's vision went dark from the blow, and she collapsed to the ground.

The thugs surged inside, smashed up the house, and took the few remaining items that were still worth something.

"My son really is a martial artist!" Qian Shi and Zhao Youfu wailed. The villagers watching nearby began whispering among themselves.

"From the sound of it, Zhao Sheng isn't a martial artist at all?"

"When he came back for money last month, didn't he say he was still training in martial arts and preparing for the martial examination?"

"Then why don't these thugs know him?"

"There are so many martial artists. They can't possibly know every single one, can they?"

At the eastern end of the village.

Bang! A large hole was smashed through the front gate of Old Uncle Zhong, Zhao Youlin's neighbor. Uncle Zhong was pinned down by two thugs in blue short outfits, his face bruised and swollen, blood staining the corner of his mouth.

Uncle Zhong's wife had collapsed on the ground crying, while more than half the pots, bowls, and utensils in their home had been smashed.

"Good sirs, our family truly has no money left. Please, spare us." Aunt Zhong begged.

"Damn it, cut the nonsense and hand over the money!"

"Found it!" One of the men found more than thirty copper coins in a broken clay jar.

"That's the money I saved to buy medicine for the child. He's still sick!" Aunt Zhong cried as she lunged forward, only to be kicked to the ground by the man in blue.

"See that? This is what happens when you break the Three Harmonies Gang's rules!" The man in blue snarled at the villagers outside, who dared not voice their anger.

"Where's the rest of the money? Hand it over!"

Zhao Youlin was also in the crowd, watching it all with anger on his face. He had always warned himself not to cause trouble for his family, especially Feng.

But Old Uncle Zhong had been his neighbor for decades. He truly could not bear to watch any longer.

He took a deep breath and was about to step forward to say something.

Neigh! The sound of a horse-drawn carriage came from the village entrance. Everyone looked up to see a spacious enclosed carriage entering the village from afar. The horse pulling it had a glossy coat and was clearly a fine steed.

"Whose carriage is that?" the villagers asked in confusion.

No one in their village could afford a carriage, and rich people rarely came here. Who could be sitting inside that carriage?

But with the door curtain and window curtains drawn, no one could see clearly.

Clip-clop, clip-clop! The carriage passed through the village and headed straight for the eastern end. It did not stop until it reached the gathered crowd.

"Who's here?"

Wang Kui recognized at a glance that it was a carriage from the city. What noble person had come to this rundown village?

At that moment, the door curtain was lifted. A young man with his hair tied up, dressed in a plain long robe, stepped out and descended from the carriage.

"Who's that?" The surrounding villagers were dazed. He looked somewhat familiar, but no one dared identify him.

"Second Uncle!" Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai, hiding in the crowd, recognized him first and shouted together.

The newcomer was none other than Zhao Feng, the second uncle they had been thinking about day and night these past months. The two children rushed at him without hesitation. Zhao Feng spread his arms and caught one in each arm, lifting them up. They had grown a little taller and heavier over the past few months, and their nutrition had been fairly assured.

"It really is Zhao Feng!"

"He's Zhao Youlin's son!"

The villagers were all astonished. More than three months had passed since his last visit to the village, and he had changed again. They had nearly failed to recognize him.

This was because his strengthened physique and enhanced vitality had nourished him, elevating his whole bearing once more. Even his complexion and bone structure had changed, giving him a heroic air.

"Feng!" Zhao Youlin was overwhelmed with excitement. The younger son he had longed for had returned.

"Father." Zhao Feng nodded with a smile, then casually handed the two children the pastries he had brought from Fragrant House in the inner city.

Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai cheered. When they opened the paper packet and saw the colorful pastries inside, their mouths watered, but they still obediently went to Zhao Youlin. "Grandpa, you should have some too."

In contrast to Zhao Feng's family acting as though no one else existed, Wang Kui's expression was quite something.

"Zhao... Martial Artist Zhao, why are you here?" he stammered. What was going on?

"So it's Deputy Gang Leader Wang. This is my home." Zhao Feng nodded.

He had actually noticed what was happening in the village through the carriage window long ago. It was just as he had expected. After gradually unifying the outer city, the Three Harmonies Gang was turning its hand toward the surrounding villages to expand. They intended to squeeze every last drop of oil from these farming households' bones.

"Your home?" Wang Kui was somewhat dazed. How could such a poor mountain village produce an internal-force expert? In his eyes, nearly everyone who could break through to internal force either came from a wealthy family or had backing from some powerful faction. How could a young expert like Zhao Feng emerge from this mountain ravine?

Others might not know, but they did. Feng Second Tiger had also been an internal-force expert, so what? His corpse had been burned to ashes. Only Wang Kui and Bald Zhang knew Zhao Feng had done it. To kill another opponent of the same rank alone—it was easy to imagine his strength.

"Deputy Gang Leader Wang, you came to collect my protection payment too, didn't you?"

"How could that be? Martial Artist Zhao, you must be joking. It's a case of the flood washing into the Dragon King's temple."

Wang Kui gave an awkward laugh, then turned and shot the adviser beside him a vicious glare. Next time they compiled a list of martial artists from the various martial halls and escort agencies, they would need to record not only their names, but also their native places and hometowns.

"Little Feng!" Aunt Zhong hurriedly called out to him, her face full of pleading.

"Aunt Zhong." Zhao Feng nodded.

Seeing this, Wang Kui gave a meaningful look. His men hurriedly returned the money they had just taken to Aunt Zhong. After thinking it over, he had no idea which other villagers might also be close to Martial Artist Zhao.

"Return it all."

Not only Aunt Zhong's money, but the money taken earlier from the other villagers was returned as well.

"Martial Artist Zhao, forgive our offense! We'll take our leave!" Wang Kui cupped his hands to Zhao Feng, then hurriedly led the thugs away.

As he walked, he inwardly cursed his bad luck. It would be best not to collect money from Jiazi Ravine Village anymore. Once he got back, he needed to notify the others to bypass Jiazi Ravine Village and collect from the other villages instead. After all, among the poor country folk for dozens of miles around, Zhao Feng was the only exception—a man who had become an internal-force expert. None of the other villages would escape.