The two family servants hurried forward, about to untie him.
Whoosh.
Accompanied by a piercing shriek through the air, a chopstick shot over and plunged into the pillar with a thud, burying itself more than three inches deep.
The two servants jolted in fright and staggered back repeatedly, their faces turning pale.
Zhao Zhi pressed a hand against his saber and strode out of Minggu Tea House. His eyes lowered slightly as he slowly swept his gaze across the Fan Family members before settling on Fan Youquan.
From his conversation with Luo Dashan in the tea house, he had learned a little about Fan Youquan.
Among Qingfeng County's many local gentry, Fan Youquan was the least like the head of a household.
Simply put—
His abilities were utterly mediocre. He had achieved nothing in either letters or martial arts, with nothing at all worth mentioning.
The Fan Family had once stood at the very forefront of Qingfeng County. Even the county magistrate had feared them by three parts and yielded to them by three parts. Yet after Fan Youquan inherited the position of family head, the Fan Family had steadily declined.
If Fan Youquan had not been blessed with such an outstanding eldest son, the Fan Family's standing in Qingfeng County would have fallen lower and lower.
"Fan Zhenqi rode his horse through the streets, deliberately killed someone, humiliated a constable, and harbored improper intentions. Who dares release him without authorization?"
Zhao Zhi's stern shout rang clearly through the surroundings.
Fan Zhenqi's eyes widened, and the veins at the corners of his eyes twitched. "Zhao Zhi, release my son at once, or I won't let you off!"
Zhao Zhi curled his lip and said blandly, "Why do every one of you only know how to say that?"
"You?!" Fan Youquan flew into a rage. His voice turned icy as he said, "Dou Rong, seize Zhao Zhi for me."
"Yes, Master."
The rugged man beside Fan Youquan, with a square face, high cheekbones, and a wide mouth, answered and stepped forward. A vicious gleam burst from his brown-black eyes as they fixed on Zhao Zhi. An invisible aura spilled from him, pressing down like a collapsing mountain.
Dou Rong, one of the Fan Family's guards, was an existence in the Early Innate Realm.
For martial artists, there was Acquired Strength Training, then Innate Qi Refinement.
Innate Warriors had already entered the halls of martial arts, gradually transforming the strength within their bodies into inner qi through martial techniques. When inner qi circulated, it contained inconceivable might.
Aura was one such method.
However—
Innate Warriors had only just stepped onto the path of martial arts, and the influence of their aura was extremely limited.
Those with resolute hearts would not fear it in the slightest, much less Zhao Zhi, whose strength far surpassed Dou Rong's.
Only martial artists above the Xiantian level could project their aura outward and condense it into form, gaining the ability to reach the heavens and pierce the earth.
Faced with Dou Rong's invisible, formless aura, Zhao Zhi remained perfectly calm.
When Dou Rong saw the faint smile curling at Zhao Zhi's lips, a trace of solemnity surfaced deep within his eyes.
The rumors were likely true.
This Zhao Zhi possessed the strength to dismantle the Gray Snake Gang.
Dou Rong drew a deep breath, bellowed, and stamped heavily on the ground. His massive, burly body lunged forth like a bear in the deep mountains and old forests pouncing upon its prey. He raised a hand, gathering incomparable strength within it as he viciously slammed it toward Zhao Zhi's chest.
Such a strike could shatter a boulder into pieces, let alone a body of flesh and blood.
Local gentry clans.
A cold glint gathered in Zhao Zhi's eyes. His hand rose, seemingly slow yet actually swift, and effortlessly blocked Dou Rong's palm just before it landed on his chest.
Bang.
Amid the muffled impact, Dou Rong felt the force of his black-bear-like palm strike vanish like a clay ox entering the sea, rapidly dissipating until nothing remained.
Before surprise could even emerge on his face, Zhao Zhi lifted a foot and brought it down upon Dou Rong. Terrifying force poured forth, followed by the crack of breaking breastbone.
Dou Rong was like a broken sack struck by a heavy hammer, sent flying backward before crashing onto the ground. Vast amounts of blood surged desperately from his mouth, swiftly dyeing a broad patch of ground red—bloody and lurid.
The Fan Family's servants retreated once more.
Even Fan Youquan, the family head, had no choice but to dodge to one side. His feet caught on something, and he nearly fell to the ground.
"Big Brother."
Fan Youting, the Fan Family's Third Master, hurriedly reached out to support him.
He looked toward Zhao Zhi, his eyelids lowered as his expression gradually grew solemn.
As an Innate Minor Achievement martial artist, Fan Youting had watched every movement Zhao Zhi made. That seemingly simple kick had been so clean, ruthless, and decisive that even he might have found it difficult to receive the force contained within it.
[You took action to teach a lawless fiend a lesson for attempting to assault a public officer. Merit +45]
Zhao Zhi did not even spare Dou Rong a glance. He raised his chin slightly, his gaze sweeping arrogantly across the Fan Family members. "Does the Fan Family still wish to make a move?"
"Third Brother, kill this Zhao Zhi for me!"
Fan Youquan roared, looking utterly crazed.
"Big Brother, you must not."
Fan Youting tried to dissuade him softly.
The strength Zhao Zhi had displayed was formidable, and Fan Youting had no confidence at all.
Fan Youquan cast Fan Youting a hard look, then turned toward the Fan Family's guards and servants. He shouted, "Whoever can seize this Zhao Zhi, I will free him from slave status and reward him with one thousand taels of silver and one hundred mu of fertile land!"
The moment those words fell, heavy breathing sounded one after another.
Being freed from slave status was already no small reward, let alone a thousand taels of silver and a hundred mu of fertile land.
With such things, they too could become masters. They too could stand above others.
Swish, swish, swish.
Pairs of burning, crazed eyes turned in unison toward Zhao Zhi. The guards gripped their clubs, the servants clenched their fists, and they instinctively edged closer to him.
Zhao Zhi placed a hand on the saber at his waist, his fingers closing one by one around the hilt. He raised a brow and parted his lips. "The Fan Family wishes to assault a constable?"
Fan Youquan shouted, "Beat him to death! If anything happens, this master will handle it!"
"Ah...!"
One guard cried out loudly, raised his club, and smashed it toward Zhao Zhi. The guards and servants behind him, each afraid that the wealth would fall into someone else's hands, charged forward close on his heels.
Zhao Zhi's expression remained indifferent, while a cold gleam flashed through his eyes.
The next instant—
Clang.
The constable's saber left its sheath, transforming into a streak of light that tore through this chaotic, filthy world.
The wooden club in the guard's hand was severed in an instant. The saber swept past his throat, leaving behind a scarlet line, and blood tore through the wound in a wild gush.
No matter how tightly the guard clutched his own throat with both hands, trying to stop the blood pouring out like water from an opened tap, it was useless.
Blood seeped through the gaps between his fingers, quickly staining both hands red, soaking large portions of his clothes, and streaming toward the ground.
Zhao Zhi paid the guard no attention at all. The instant the constable's saber swept across the man's throat, his darting figure was already like a hungry wolf hunting in the mountains, charging into the Fan Family's guards and servants. Saber light erupted everywhere, cold flashes gleaming fiercely.
In the blink of an eye, seven or eight corpses and more than twenty severely wounded Fan Family members lay sprawled across the ground.
Scarlet blood soaked the earth and spread in every direction, turning the entire area before Minggu Tea House blood-red.
Step.
Ordinary black constable boots stepped into the bloodwater. Zhao Zhi carried his saber past corpse after corpse and once again came before Fan Youquan, the head of the Fan Family.
The constable's saber slowly rose and rested upon Fan Youquan's shoulder.
Ferocity surged forth, Killing Intent soaring to the heavens.
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