Yang Sanlang

The bright moon rose into the sky, crimson as blood, driving men mad.

Du Chengfeng glanced at the javelins on the ground and rose to his feet.

Separated by thirty feet, the two men stood facing each other.

One held a javelin in his hand.

The other was empty-handed.

"Pick it up."

The man named Yang Sanlang clenched the javelin in his hand.

"I told you to pick up a weapon. Didn't you hear me?"

"No."

Du Chengfeng merely shook his head, glancing at the weapons piled beside him like a small hill.

"Why should I pick one up? So that once I take up a weapon too, this becomes a duel? So you can look like a man? Forget it. If you really wanted to fight me head-on, then who was it that tried to kill me while I was asleep?"

"You..."

Yang Sanlang gritted his teeth.

The second javelin flew from his hand. This time, it was not aimed at Du Chengfeng's feet. The sharp javelin howled through the air, its tip pointed straight at Du Chengfeng's chest!

Once, it had been this very mighty, heavy javelin that nailed to the ground the bold madman who had dared insult the Yang Clan's ancestors. It was this killing blow that had earned Yang Sanlang a modest reputation in Jizhou, even making him one of the outstanding youths of the Yang Clan.

Yet now, faced with the strike he had always been so proud of, Du Chengfeng merely shifted to one side and easily evaded it.

Then he strode toward him.

He did not take up a knife, an axe, or any weapon at all. He did not even pick up the javelins on the ground. Du Chengfeng simply walked forward empty-handed.

Straight toward Yang Sanlang's third javelin.

It forced Yang Sanlang back five steps.

After retreating five steps, he charged forward five steps. As he rushed into the final step, Yang Sanlang twisted his waist and hips, and the javelin in his hand flew free once more.

This time, with the force of his charge behind it, Yang Sanlang's javelin flashed like lightning. It was far faster than the last one, so fast that even the hardwood shaft blurred from its speed.

Only the shriek of wind whipping past one's ears proved that the javelin existed.

Yet that gale merely fluttered Du Chengfeng's lapels.

With only a sidestep, Du Chengfeng evaded the javelin again.

Yang Sanlang pulled the fourth javelin from his pack, while the distance between them had already shrunk from thirty feet to ten.

This time, the javelin spun as it flew.

If his previous javelins had all sought to pierce a single point, then this fourth one swept across an entire plane. The howling shaft had become a vicious long staff, carrying enough force to shatter a leg bone in a single blow.

This time, Du Chengfeng could no longer remain so calm and unruffled.

Facing the javelin sweeping toward him, he had no choice but to spring off the ground and leap into the air, evading its horizontal strike.

At that very moment, Yang Sanlang, gripping the fifth javelin, had already rushed close and viciously thrust it at Du Chengfeng's chest.

His old force spent and new force not yet born, Du Chengfeng was at his hardest to evade while suspended in midair. Yang Sanlang, who had charged in swiftly behind the fourth javelin, now wielded his javelin as a short spear. Its point sealed off every space where Du Chengfeng might twist or turn.

This strike could not be avoided!

Yet at that moment, Yang Sanlang suddenly felt something seize his shoulder.

It was a large, solid hand.

"Huh?"

Thud—

In that brief instant of distraction, Yang Sanlang's vision spun heaven and earth around.

His spine slammed against the hard ground, and Yang Sanlang felt as though his bones were about to break. The force of the back of his head striking the earth left him dizzy and disoriented. He could not understand what had happened. Why, in the blink of an eye, was he already lying on the ground?

Wait, what had he come here for?

"You..."

Remembering the purpose of his visit, Yang Sanlang hurriedly looked around.

Only to find that the sturdy refugee named Du Chengfeng, whom he had come to assassinate, was crouching beside him and looking down at his face.

"Looks like it's still pretty useful..."

Du Chengfeng, who had been muttering to himself, noticed Yang Sanlang's gaze and shook his head.

"Sorry, I wasn't talking about you."

"You..."

Already badly wounded, Yang Sanlang was so enraged that blood rushed to his heart. He immediately spat out a mouthful of blood.

But just as Yang Sanlang was about to simply spray that blood onto Du Chengfeng's face, Du Chengfeng had already risen to his feet.

"All right. If there's nothing else, get up. Your clan uncle is still waiting for you to go back."

"You..."

The blood he had sprayed into the air fell back down, splattering all over Yang Sanlang's own face.

Yang Sanlang could not help closing his eyes.

"Kill me."

As Yang Sanlang said this, he even let go of the last javelin in his hand.

"Kill me. Since I can't kill you, then kill me. I was the one who brought you here in the first place, and I was the one who sent you to your death. Now you're not dead. You survived, and I can't kill you either, so kill me."

At this point, Yang Sanlang clenched his teeth.

"A real man takes responsibility for his own deeds. Every wrong has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor. You... what are you doing?! Where are you going?!"

Hearing footsteps beside him, Yang Sanlang hurriedly opened his eyes and scrambled up.

But Du Chengfeng did not even seem inclined to acknowledge him. He simply returned to his own little courtyard.

His back was even turned toward him.

"What do you mean?! What do you mean by this?!"

Enduring the pain throughout his body, Yang Sanlang snatched up the javelin he had dropped.

"Come back! Get back here! Du Chengfeng, get back here!"

The final javelin was finally thrown, but his body, badly injured from the slam, could no longer muster much strength. The javelin spun twice in midair before falling helplessly to the ground.

That final javelin did not even fly ten feet.

Meanwhile, that retreating figure only grew farther away.

He did not even turn back for a single glance.

"Come back! Come back and kill me!"

Yang Sanlang, his face covered in blood, glared with eyes wide open.

"Come kill me! Why won't you kill me?! Why?! Why won't you kill me?! Why?!"

Yet no matter how hoarsely Yang Sanlang shouted, that figure never turned around, as though all this was nothing more than the midnight chirping of insects in the courtyard, nothing but tiresome noise.

This made Yang Sanlang's fury flare to the heavens.

"Du Chengfeng!"

Outside the little courtyard, Yang Sanlang threw back his head and shouted.

"Why won't you kill me?! Do you look down on me that much?! Do you look down on me, Yang Sanlang, that much?!"

"Why do I have to kill you? Don't you have anything else to do in the middle of the night?"

Du Chengfeng finally turned back.

"Go home. Isn't it good to be alive?"

"As long as I live, I will wash away this humiliation."

They should have been defiant words, but when they came from Yang Sanlang's mouth, they still carried a slight tremor.

"Aren't you afraid? Are you really not afraid at all?"

"...Afraid?"

Du Chengfeng looked at Yang Sanlang, furious enough for his hair to stand on end, then thought of the terrifying Hexi Qing. In the end, he shook his head.

"As long as you're happy. Come by more often. At least then you can be of some use."

"Some... use?"

Yang Sanlang froze, unable to understand what he meant.

He had come here to fight. What use could that possibly...

"My courtyard happens to be short of a target, and besides, you can move."

Du Chengfeng pointed to the open ground in the courtyard.

"Anyway, come often. Keep it up."

"You..."

Watching Du Chengfeng's retreating back, Yang Sanlang was speechless for a long while.

Not until Du Chengfeng's figure vanished into the darkness did Yang Sanlang collapse to the ground, as though his spine had been pulled out.

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