Chapter Thirty-Two: Ruthlessness and Suspicion

All three of them clutched their heads, stumbling around like headless flies. Their screams were piercing and desperate. At that moment, from the darkness at the far end of the road, a figure leaped out—it was Chen Fan.

He strode forward, both hands gripping a rock the size of a human head. Without hesitation, he walked straight to the bald man who was covering his face. The bald man, pressing his palms over his eyes, seemed to sense someone approaching. He forced open his pain-blurred eyes, seeing only a vague shadow. His hands groped blindly, but how could he hope to catch the advancing Chen Fan?

Chen Fan was already no weaker than him, and now, with his ambush so successful, the advantage was decisive.

“Chen, you little bastard, I know it’s you! Don’t make a mistake—your family doesn’t practice martial arts, right? We know where you live, who’s there. If you dare—”

At these words, Chen Fan’s eyes grew even colder. He tightened his grip on the heavy stone and stepped forward.

With a muffled thud, the stone crashed down on the bald man’s head.

An even more agonized scream rang out, blood pouring down like a river. The bald man collapsed instantly, his body convulsing, losing consciousness in a heartbeat.

Chen Fan’s gaze remained steady and cold. He hefted the bloodied stone, turned, and advanced toward the other two. These two fared even worse than the bald man, flailing blindly and catching at nothing. Chen Fan’s eyes were icy, his blows unrelenting. One after another, he struck them down.

Only when all three lay sprawled in pools of blood did Chen Fan finally exhale and drop the stone. Though confident in his own strength and unafraid to face the three of them head-on, he knew this was no arena match with referees and rules. Real combat was far more dangerous, even if the enemy’s intent was not to kill outright.

In the ring, he would never dare use lime powder and chili water, but here, he showed no mercy. Moving quickly, he checked each man’s breath. To his surprise, only the bald man still clung to life, and even he was barely breathing—if not for his advanced martial arts training, he likely would not have survived. The other two were already dead.

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes and sighed to himself, “Humans really are fragile…” Even with martial arts, they could not withstand lime and chili water, nor a stone smashed onto their heads. Using a rock like this was far simpler and deadlier than any martial technique.

“These three were fools, thinking I was just a boy of thirteen or fourteen, truly afraid of them and only running for my life. Little did they expect I’d turn the tables…” In the end, it was their own underestimation that doomed them.

The area was deserted. Chen Fan dragged the three bodies off the road. By the light of the moon, he hauled them through the wilderness toward the nearby riverbank. He had chosen this secluded spot to confront his pursuers precisely because it was remote and unlikely to attract attention, making cleanup easier.

In truth, he hadn’t intended to kill—at least, not until the bald man had threatened his family.

The river roared, surging in the night.

With a groan of pain, the bald man slowly regained consciousness. His head throbbed with agony. Reflexively, he tried to clutch at his wound, but found his hands tightly bound, utterly powerless.

“So, you’re awake.”

His eyes, still sore and stinging, managed to make out a blurry figure moving busily before him. After a long moment, his vision cleared, and his eyes widened in shock.

He saw a young man, gentle in appearance, tying a massive stone to a man’s body with a strip of cloth. Then, with both man and stone in his arms, the youth heaved them high and flung them into the river. With a loud splash, the body and stone disappeared beneath the surface.

He recognized the youth—it was Chen Fan, his target for this mission. The man cast into the river was one of his own companions.

He tried to cry out, but found his mouth was stuffed and no sound could escape.

Chen Fan fetched a third stone, repeating his actions and binding it to the remaining companion.

The bald man, forgetting his own pain, struggled desperately, as if plunging into an abyss.

Chen Fan glanced at him with a faint smile, “Don’t worry, you’ll be next.”

That only made the bald man thrash all the harder. Chen Fan continued his work in silence. Soon, another splash marked the river claiming another corpse. Chen Fan dusted off his hands and knelt before the bald man.

“I’ll give you a chance to live—tell me: who sent you?”

Terror contorted the bald man’s features. He nodded frantically, like a pecking chick, all arrogance gone.

Chen Fan smiled slightly and removed the gag.

A short while later, another splash echoed across the water. Chen Fan clapped his hands, watching the distant ripples.

“Sorry, I lied to you.”

He rinsed the blood from his hands in the rushing water and melted away into the darkness.

Anyone who threatened his family, Chen Fan would never spare.

According to the bald man, they belonged to a loosely organized underground group in Feiling County known as the Black League, infamous for their dirty dealings. In simple terms, they did anything for money, asking no questions of motive or employer—murder, arson, any job at all.

Someone had posted a thirty tael reward for teaching Chen Fan a lesson that night. The only stipulation was to leave him alive; no further requirements. The employer even provided Chen Fan’s location and basic information. The three had tailed him from Jiangshan Tavern all the way here.

“I lingered too long at Jiangshan Tavern and got myself marked,” Chen Fan muttered, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes.

Clearly, this incident was not the Black Tiger Gang taking revenge for Pi Liu’s death. But Chen Fan couldn’t imagine who else might be behind it. Lately, the only person he’d offended was Yu Xingzheng. In every society, there’s always a fool like that—Chen Fan was unsurprised. Still, if it really was Yu Xingzheng, the retaliation came awfully fast.

He frowned deeply. “It’s not safe to stay out in the suburbs anymore.”

He hurried home, changed clothes, and immediately insisted that his sister-in-law and her daughter move out at once. He personally escorted them into the county town that very night, leaving whatever wasn’t packed to be moved later.

Their new home was not only within the county, but also close to both the White Cloud Martial Hall and the Bao residence—a far safer location.

The next morning, Chen Fan returned to the White Cloud Martial Hall.

He went directly to see Bao Tianyou and told him about the previous night’s attack, asking him to look after his family and to help investigate Yu Xingzheng’s background.

Bao Tianyou was surprised, “You suspect Yu Xingzheng?”

Chen Fan nodded, “There’s no one else.”

Bao Tianyou frowned, “I’ve met Yu Xingzheng a few times. He’s close to the master of Four Symbols Hall, from a prominent family… It’s true his character is poor, but he’s not known for such vicious retaliation. Besides, you only had a conflict yesterday—if he struck that very night, wouldn’t it be too obvious?”

Chen Fan shook his head, “Maybe he’s counting on that very logic to avoid suspicion.”

After all, he was just a disciple from an ordinary background. Talent didn’t equal power or protection, and a wealthy young master could destroy him on a whim.

With organizations like the Black League around, anything was possible.

Bao Tianyou’s brow furrowed as he sighed, “If the Black League is involved, things could get complicated—especially since they weren’t hired to kill you. Even if the hall master personally investigates, it’ll be hard to get answers. And in truth, the master is unlikely to bother with such a minor matter.”

Chen Fan’s eyes narrowed. Yu Xingzheng was no street thug like Pi Liu—he was a talented disciple of the Four Symbols Hall, from a powerful family, not someone easily provoked.

“In any case, Chen Fan, don’t act rashly. I’ll have someone investigate. For now, don’t go back to your old home.”

Chen Fan nodded, saying little more.

With Bao Tianyou’s support, Chen Fan’s mind was at ease. He went to collect his weekly White Cloud medicinal decoction, silver in hand, but the uncle in charge of the medicines refused his payment.

“Chen Fan, your talent is extraordinary. The hall master has already given instructions: from now on, your weekly potion is free of charge.”

Chen Fan’s eyes lit up. Though Bao Tianyou had already given him some silver, saving money was always a welcome boon.

The only downside was that the White Cloud decoction was special—no one could take more than one dose a week, or toxins might build up.

“My talent has indeed earned me special treatment from the martial hall!”

Chen Fan was overjoyed. With Bao Tianyou’s support and a place in the top eight of the martial tournament—which meant thirty taels of silver were already his—life was looking up.

But there was no denying the simple joy of getting something for nothing.