Yang Mingyi's whole body was still weak, gripped by terror, yet all his panic and fear were miraculously soothed by these words.
"Brother Fang..." The emotions he had been suppressing, the nerves stretched taut to the breaking point, finally snapped at this moment. Mustering all his strength with his weak, soft arms, he clung tightly to Fang Zichen's neck, burying his face against his shoulder.
A low, choked sob could be heard.
It was the release of someone who had narrowly escaped death, and the outpouring of helplessness and despair.
A bandit, brandishing his sword, attacked from the left side, clearly intent on a fatal blow.
Hearing the ominous whistle of wind by his ear, Fang Zichen leaped into the air, cursing.
"Screw your grandfather!"
He kicked out with his foot, sending a wooden club flying through the air with a whoosh. The bandit dodged to the side, and the club smashed into the carriage behind him, instantly splintering the wood into flying fragments.
The bandit's eyes widened, a cold sweat of fear breaking out on him. He thought: This young man has immense strength. If that club had hit me, I'd be done for.
In that moment of his distraction, Fang Zichen, carrying the sound of the wind with him, had already closed the distance. The long wooden club was cumbersome for close-quarters combat, so the bandit thought to retreat and create space, but it was already too late.
Fang Zichen swung his blade, and the bandit's hand, still gripping the club, was instantly severed.
"Ah...!" The bandit let out a piercing, miserable scream.
The severed forearm thudded to the ground. Blood gushed out in pulses from the stump, pooling on the ground and covering it. Everyone present froze once again.
Too ruthless.
He was truly too ruthless.
Master Wu, his vision blurred by the blood covering his face, stared for a long time before he could clearly make out the newcomer. Seeing it was Fang Zichen, his first reaction wasn't joy, but regret.
Master Wu understood this best. He held no hope and wanted to open his mouth to tell him to run. The next second, he saw him lift a man up as if it required no effort at all.
The bandit closest to Fang Zichen, seeing his back was turned, immediately swung his blade down in an attack.
That bandit thought he could succeed with a sneak attack, but unexpectedly, Fang Zichen seemed to have eyes on the back of his head. He sidestepped and dodged the blade. As the bandit tried to swing again, Fang Zichen's broadsword was already coming towards him.
This strike landed solidly on the bandit's right hand, instantly sending a spray of blood flying.
Fang Zichen was merciless. He appeared calm and composed, not even blinking when he cut people down. His actions were vicious and decisive, as if accustomed to such bloody scenes. Yet, Yang Mingyi noticed that his body was trembling slightly.
Fang Zichen didn't want to be like this, but these bandits were truly despicable.
They weren't content with just robbing, they also wanted to violate people.
How old is Yang Mingyi!
He's just a child of eleven or twelve, and yet they still intended to assault him. These men, utterly blinded by greed and willing to injure and kill for money, are utterly detestable.
Although Fang Zichen was usually unserious in his conduct, appearing like a frivolous idler with a glib tongue and a bit of a fear of death, at his core, he was filled with righteous integrity and loathed evil.
Having practiced martial arts with his grandfather for many years, he naturally didn't take these few bandits seriously. When it came to fighting, he had never been afraid of anyone.
Fang Zichen held his breath and concentrated, scanning the circle of men. It seemed he was making a selection. A moment later, Fang Zichen fixed his eyes on the bandit who had just spoken about 'itching' and charged towards him.
The bandits were intimidated by his previous two strikes. Now, seeing him coming for him, he turned and tried to run.
Fang Zichen strode forward, striking the back of his blade against the bandit's kneecap. The bandit fell to his knees. Fang Zichen then threw a punch that sent blood gushing from his nose and mouth, knocking him aside. Following up, he swept a kick towards the bandit's face. This kick landed solidly, knocking out three of the bandit's teeth.
Fang Zichen then launched another flying kick, hitting a different bandit, before immediately twisting his body and taking a side step to slash another bandit on his left flank across the back.
In the blink of an eye, he had taken down four men.
Just as Fang Zichen was preparing to catch his breath, a bandit behind him was already raising his blade to attack.
Master Wu cried out with a hoarse, strained voice: "...Be careful!"
Yang Mingyi didn't look up, only tightening his arms around Fang Zichen's neck.
Fang Zichen raised his blade to meet the attack.
With a sharp clang, the two broadswords collided.
The bandit seemed to have anticipated this. His hand went numb from the shock. He suddenly grinned, withdrew one hand, opened his palm, and suddenly blew a puff of powder towards Fang Zichen's face.
While exchanging blows with the two bandits earlier, he had realized that this damned, meddlesome fool was highly perceptive and his reactions were extremely sharp.
Attempting a sneak attack on him was impossible.
He could only resort to another trick.
After blowing the powder, the bandit couldn't suppress his laughter: "Hahaha... Huh?" His eyes suddenly widened.
After the cloud of white powder dissipated, Fang Zichen still stood opposite him. Meeting the bandit's incredulous expression, Fang Zichen said, "Surprised, idiot!"
"This... this is impossible..." The bandit still couldn't believe it. Had his knockout powder failed?
But that couldn't be!
The maids and servants from earlier had fallen for it and still hadn't woken up!
He hadn't dared to underestimate Fang Zichen, and the dose he had prepared just now would be enough to knock out an ox.
Master Wu, staggering, came over and hid behind Fang Zichen.
Fang Zichen kicked out, sending that bandit flying backwards. Seeing the others still staring intently at him, as if waiting for an opportunity to move, Fang Zichen walked towards a bandit lying on the ground.
Dense thickets lined both sides of the road. The wind rustled through them, creating a soughing sound. His steps, one by one, seemed to fall on the very heartbeats of the bandits, who trembled in fear, trying to crawl backward. Fang Zichen gave them no chance. Upon reaching them, he began to kick.
He put force into every kick. The bandit howled in pain, his cries miserably wretched, startling the birds in the forest into flight.
He focused on beating a single person. Seeing that the man was about to be done for, Yang Mingyi called out to him softly.
"Brother Fang?"
"I know my limits," Fang Zichen said. "Killing someone means jail time. I'm not that stupid."
"Then you..."
"When fighting, you pick one person and beat them half to death," Fang Zichen said, while continuing to kick. "This way, the others won't dare to come forward. This is called 'killing the chicken to scare the monkey'. I've taught you another move. Did you learn it?"
[杀鸡儆猴 (shā jī jǐng hóu): lit. kill the chicken to warn the monkey; fig. to punish someone as an example to deter others.]
Yang Mingyi: "..."
Yang Mingyi looked around. The other bandits indeed seemed intimidated by Fang Zichen's ferocity in beating people down as easily as slicing melons and chopping vegetables. One by one, they hesitated and hung back, not daring to advance. Fang Zichen stopped and looked over. Those bandits took a few steps back, then turned and fled.
Fang Zichen added, "This is called 'fleeing in panic'."
Now, only those with broken legs and two others who were too severely injured to run remained, lying on the ground, moaning and groaning.
Master Wu, his face bruised and swollen, leaning shakily on a stick, walked over. He was a far cry from the elegant, dignified, stern, and impeccably groomed old man from the library. Fang Zichen didn't recognize him at first, only finding his figure familiar.
"Grandfather..."
Yang Mingyi wanted to go over and support him, but his legs were weak and powerless. He could only let his limp body be supported by Fang Zichen as they moved to the side of the carriage.
Master Wu, trembling, made his way to Fang Zichen's side. Fang Zichen helped him over to where Yang Mingyi was.
Master Wu gently stroked Yang Mingyi's face, full of self-reproach. "Yi Ger, are you alright?"
Yang Mingyi shook his head. "Grandfather, I'm fine!"
When Yang Mingyi called out "Grandfather," Fang Zichen realized who he was. This old man had vouched for him before, he could be considered someone who had done him a favor!
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