Chapter 233

By the time he hit the ground, he was already five meters away, and he rolled back another three or four meters before stopping. The shorter man turned over and tried to get up, but couldn’t stabilize himself and crouched down again, vomiting two mouthfuls of blood. The chest is one of the vital areas of the body; a heavy strike can injure the internal organs. Xie Wendong’s strength was average; if it were Jiang Sen, that kick would have been enough to kill the shorter man. Xie Wendong kicked him away, and before he could chase after him, more than twenty people surrounded them. Ren Changfeng rushed forward in a flash and swung his sword at one of their foreheads. The man quickly dodged, not realizing it was just a feint—before the sword could land, Ren Changfeng changed it to a thrust, driving the blade along the man’s ribs. It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it was enough. Ren Changfeng pulled the sword out lightly and laughed wildly, shouting, “Those who dare to die, come at me!” His swordsmanship was terrifying, but his words also stirred up the fighting spirit of the Nan Hongmen members. Almost simultaneously, five or six people rushed forward to fight with him, and the two sides clashed in a chaotic mess. While fighting, Xie Wendong looked around, hoping to find the leader of the enemy. If he could subdue them, the battle would be much easier. He scanned the crowd but was disappointed—none of them seemed to be giving orders. It seemed the enemy hadn’t fully mobilized yet. Realizing this, Xie Wendong swung his blade more vigorously. The longer they delayed, the worse it would be for his side. Suddenly, a sword was thrust at him. Xie Wendong raised his blade to block it, and the sword passed beneath his ear. He acted swiftly, grabbing the other man’s hair and pulling him back. The man bent over in pain, and Xie Wendong slammed his knee into his face. With a crunch, the man’s nose collapsed, and he cried out as he stumbled backward, his fingers covered in blood. Before the man could steady himself, Xie Wendong swung his wrist, and a golden light, fast as a meteor, flashed across the man’s neck—his cries stopped instantly. The Nan Hongmen disciples watching nearby saw this clearly. One of them, with sharp eyes, noticed that Xie Wendong had a secret golden sword with silver threads on it—this was no longer a secret. He saw a very thin thread glinting in the moonlight; it would be hard to spot without careful observation. He grabbed the silver thread and shouted, “I’ve caught Xie Wendong’s golden sword!” Rumors only mentioned the power of Xie Wendong’s golden sword, not the silver threads on it. Xie Wendong glared at the shouting man and snapped his wrist, saying coldly, “Let go!”

The man was very obedient; he indeed released the hand holding the silver thread. Not only did his hand go loose, but all four of his fingers were cut off at once, without him even realizing it. It wasn’t until Xie Wendong retracted his golden sword that the man felt dizzy. Looking down, he saw his four fingers lying on the ground, along with a large pool of blood. He let out a scream and fainted.

Xie Wendong wielded two swords—one long and one short, one bright and one dark—making it impossible for his opponents to defend against him. In no time, four or five people had fallen to his sword, most of them suffering from excessive blood loss and seemingly beyond recovery. During fierce battles, Xie Wendong rarely showed mercy. Once fighting began, his goals were either self-preservation or defeating his opponent. In either case, the ultimate aim was to render the opponent unable to fight. The simplest and most direct way to do this was to kill them. By doing so, even if the defeated didn’t die, they would be too weakened to fight again. As the number of enemies around him decreased, he glanced at the others. Jiang Sen, Ren Changfeng, Golden Eye, and the rest were covered in blood—mostly others’—yet they seemed relaxed, underestimating the remaining few. Ah Shui and his six subordinates were in a dire situation; half of them were lying on the ground, covered in blood, while the other three were also badly injured, gasping for breath. Ah Shui’s agility was no longer what it used to be; every strike seemed to require all his strength. Xie Wendong slapped his head in frustration, blaming himself for forgetting about him. He hadn’t had much contact with Ah Shui, but from a few encounters, he had thought the man was decent and kind-hearted. If Ah Shui lost his life because of him, he wouldn’t only be unable to explain to the Old Ghost but also fail this challenge himself. With that thought, he swung his sword several times, pushing back the Nan Hongmen disciples surrounding him, then shouted at Ren Changfeng, “Changfeng, leave these guys to you!”

Ren Changfeng, who never turned away anyone, accepted as many as he could. With a laugh, he replied, “No problem!” He launched several rapid attacks to push back the people around him, then dashed to Xie Wendong’s back, blocking the Nan Hongmen disciples chasing them. Swinging his Tang sword, he declared, “If you want to chase after us, you first have to pass through me!”

These men still feared Xie Wendong somewhat and ignored the others. One of them shouted, “You’re nothing!” Then he raised his sword and swung at Ren Changfeng’s head.

He might be the first to call Ren Changfeng worthless. When had he ever suffered such humiliation? His lungs almost burst from anger. In a fit of rage, he laughed, dodged slightly with a swift movement, then extended his hand to push the man away—immediately sending him flying. As the man flew fast, Ren Changfeng moved even faster. Before the man could land, Ren Changfeng rushed over like an arrow and swung a palm at the man’s back of the head. The man didn’t even make a sound before collapsing unconscious. It was then that the disciples of Nan Hongmen realized this arrogantly looking young man was no less skilled than Xie Wendong. Without giving them a chance to hesitate, Ren Changfeng swung his sword at them right after knocking down that man.

Ah Shui was now truly at his wits’ end. He had always prided himself on his strength, and it seemed he indeed had endless energy. But now, that energy was gradually being drained, leaving only an empty shell. The seemingly light knife in his hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. With each swing, he had to exert all his strength, and once it was thrown, he couldn’t make any adjustments. “Ah!” With a scream, another of Ah Shui’s brothers fell beside him—a steel pipe weighing over two pounds struck the man’s temple, causing blood to flow profusely. He lost consciousness and collapsed. Before he could get up, a disciple from Nan Hongmen rushed forward and slashed at his head. A flash of sword, a splash of blood. Ah Shui’s vision turned red as yet another brother died before his eyes. He screamed and rushed desperately in that direction, but the dozen or so disciples of Nan Hongmen wouldn’t let him through. They swung their swords to block him. Within two encounters, Ah Shui had at least four or five wounds. Covered in blood and somewhat disoriented, someone saw an opportunity and sneaked up behind Ah Shui, stabbing him hard in the back. The strike was fast and deadly; Ah Shui didn’t even realize the fatal danger was approaching. Just then, a gunshot rang out, shaking the attacker’s body as he fell to the ground. He tried to stand up using his sword as a support, but his body wouldn’t obey him—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get up. Blood gushed from the center of his forehead. With another gunshot, a bullet pierced his skull. The gun belonged to Jiang Sen, but the shooter was Xie Wendong. Everyone knew Xie Wendong was skilled with a sword, but his marksmanship was his weakness—yet his weak point often proved surprisingly accurate. With one shot, he took out that man. Xie Wendong whistled lightly, tossed the gun to Jiang Sen nearby, wiped the blood off his sword, and said softly, “Your enemy is here.”

Before his words faded, three burly men rushed at him. Three knives were thrust at his vital points from three different directions. Yet these three were far less fast than Xie Wendong, and their experience was also inferior to his. With a quick turn, he dodged their knives and arrived beside one of them, using his arm to deliver a fierce elbow strike to the man’s neck. Both sides were extremely fast, moving in opposite directions, so the force of the strike was unimaginable. The man, who had been charging forward, was instantly flung backward. With a crisp sound, his head drooped as Xie Wendong’s elbow broke his neck. Before he could even hit the ground, he was already dead. Before the other two could react, Xie Wendong had already passed them and reached Ah Shui, examining him carefully before shaking his head with a wry smile. This brutal fight had left Ah Shui in terrible condition. His face was covered in blood and sweat, forming a mottled pattern, and his clothes were even worse—unrecognizable in color, completely red, with no way to tell whether it was his own blood or the enemy’s. If this continued, he would surely die soon. Xie Wendong grabbed Ah Shui’s wrist and said, “Come with me!” Then he rushed toward Jiang Sen and the others.

A person’s name, like the shadow of a tree. Xie Wendong easily took down one man with swift and decisive moves, truly stunning the members of the Nan Hongmen. Seeing him charge, they stepped back, keeping a distance of five or six steps between them. As he got closer to Jiang Sen and the others, someone from the Nan Hongmen finally couldn’t hold back. One tall, burly man shouted and stepped forward, aiming a knife at Xie Wendong’s stomach. But Xie Wendong neither dodged nor avoided it. As the knife neared, he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it outward. The man cried out in pain as the knife fell to the ground. Xie Wendong then lifted his leg and kicked the man’s jaw with the tip of his shoe. The man’s body shook, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Seizing the opportunity, Xie Wendong rushed out of the crowd and joined Jiang Sen and the others. Before they could say a word, the sound of cars roared from both ends of the road, followed by shouts. In an instant, over a hundred more burly men rushed over.

Ren Changfeng knocked down the three or four people around him and quickly scanned the surroundings. With a sea of people surrounding him, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Damn it, is this ever going to end?”

Ah Shui regained his senses, looked around, and sighed inwardly before asking, “Who are these people?” Xie Wendong replied calmly, “With such strength in Kunming and the ability to gather so many men, who else do you think it could be?” “The Hongmen? The Southern Hongmen?” Ah Shui exclaimed in surprise. Xie Wendong nodded and said, “Exactly.” Ah Shui frowned and said, “But the Golden Triangle and the Southern Hongmen have always stayed out of each other’s business and lived in peace. Why now…” Xie Wendong cursed under his breath, thinking he still hadn’t realized it was the Southern Hongmen targeting him. He snorted and casually said, “One mountain can’t hold two tigers.”

Ah! Xie Wendong said it unintentionally, but Ah Shui took it to heart, frowning even deeper and taking a deep breath. He turned to his two remaining subordinates and said, “Hurry, call Brother Ghost and tell him to get ready early. Also, send someone to support us.” One of them quickly agreed and called Old Ghost.

Distant water can’t quench immediate thirst. Xie Wendong assessed the situation and said solemnly to everyone, “Get ready. We need to flee.”

Jiang Sen, holding his sword defensively, turned back and asked, “Where to run? The roads are packed with cars.” Xie Wendong pointed to the wasteland beside the road and said, “If we can’t use the roads, we’ll take the grassland.”

Ah Shui rushed to say, “What about our goods?” Xie Wendong rolled his eyes and shrugged, “We’re barely keeping our lives right now—why worry about goods?” Seeing Ah Shui about to say more, he waved his hand and preempted him, “Anyway, we know who they are. As long as we’re alive, we’ll find a way. The Southern Hongmen can’t escape or deny responsibility. We can settle accounts with them later.” “Hmm!” Ah Shui gritted his teeth tightly and forced out a few words, “I’ll tolerate this time!” Golden Eye almost laughed, thinking the people of the Golden Triangle were truly arrogant. Can’t you tolerate it now? The Southern Hongmen, along with their remaining disciples, numbered over a hundred, charging at Xie Wendong and the others with swords raised and shouts echoing. Their momentum was truly intimidating. Xie Wendong remained calm, chuckled lightly twice, and without hesitation, waved his hand and said, “Let’s go!” Then he led the way off the road.

Ah Shui was unwilling to give up the goods he had just obtained, watching the truck remain motionless. Jiang Sen pulled at his clothes and urged, “Enough, brother! If you keep looking, even you’ll end up dead here.” “Sigh!” Ah Shui stamped his foot and ran in the direction of Xie Wendong with his two subordinates.

It was completely dark; the crescent moon hung slantingly in the sky like a knife. The faint, hazy moonlight was beautiful, but only for lovers in the night. Xie Wendong wished the moon could be brighter. The wilderness ahead was pitch black, with no end in sight, making it difficult to determine direction. A Shui said the old ghost was hiding in the southeast, so he could only vaguely choose a direction and run in that direction. Only heaven knew if it was correct. The group staggered forward for over two miles, with the pursuers from the Nan Hong Men firmly following behind them. Xie Wendong and the others were fine, but A Shui gradually found it hard to breathe. Under normal circumstances, his strength might not have been weaker than Xie Wendong’s, but now he was injured, and every step caused pain as if saw blades were cutting into his body. Blood flowed faster with each movement, constantly seeping from his wounds. After running a while longer, A Shui’s legs gave out and he fell to the ground. Jiang Sen, who was behind them, sighed and glanced at Xie Wendong, Ren Changfeng, Jin Yan, and the others. Without needing to speak, he knew what he had to do. He stepped forward, lifted A Shui onto his back. Seeing this, Ren Changfeng smiled and said, “Old Sen, do you need my help?” “Stop talking nonsense!” Jiang Sen shot him a glare. “Sigh!” Ren Changfeng pretended to sigh and shook his head. “Among us, only you are the strongest. If not you, who else can carry him?” Before he could finish speaking, with a thud, one of A Shui’s subordinates collapsed from exhaustion.