5: Chapter 5: The Entry into the City Turmoil, Bully's Provocation

The morning light spilled onto the blue bricks of the city gate, casting the long shadows of the three of them.

Chen Xuan walked in the middle, with Leng Shuang and Zhao Hongling flanking him on either side.

He didn't stop, his index and middle fingers pressed together as he lightly brushed them over the tip of his nose, as if confirming something.

No sooner had the gesture finished than a commotion erupted nearby.

"Move aside! Everyone, get out of my way!" A rough, booming voice erupted from behind the crowd.

Pedestrians ahead quickly moved aside, revealing a burly man pushing his way through the crowd.

He was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, wearing a half-open black leather vest that exposed his sturdy chest. An iron ruler was tucked into his waistband, and his boots thudded heavily against the stone slabs.

His eyes locked onto Zhao Hongling, and he grinned. "Yo, where did such a pretty girl come from? That face, that figure—tsk, tsk—even more alluring than the top girls in the brothel."

Zhao Hongling frowned, her hand immediately resting on the hilt of the Red Scale Blade at her waist.

The man, unbothered, took two steps forward and reached out to grab her arm.

"Little lady, you're new here, aren't you? This city has plenty of twists and turns; getting lost is no fun. Why don't I show you around? I can guarantee you'll eat well and sleep comfortably."

Before he could finish, a wave of cold air rushed toward him.

Leng Shuang stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze piercing through him like a blade.

She didn't speak, but the chill seemed to crawl up from the ground, creeping right up the soles of his feet.

A thin layer of frost even began to coat the blue bricks of the street, and the air grew stagnant.

The burly man's hand froze in mid-air, his smile vanishing. He instinctively pulled his hand back, took half a step, and stiffened his neck. "Hey... are you using some kind of sorcery?"

"Scram." Leng Shuang spat out the single word.

Her voice wasn't loud, but it pierced the ears like an ice pick. The crowd watching the commotion fell silent, their breathing turning shallow.

The burly man's expression shifted repeatedly, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

He knew he had run into trouble, but if he were scared off by a woman's words in front of so many people, how could he ever show his face on this street again?

He gritted his teeth and stood his ground, suddenly pointing at Chen Xuan. "And you, the man beside her? I'll see if you have the guts to take three of my punches! If I can't knock you down in three, I'll turn around and leave, and I'll never bother you again!"

Chen Xuan had been keeping his head down, looking as if he were frightened. He scratched the back of his head and offered an awkward laugh. "Big brother, why the anger? They don't know any better and offended you; can't I just apologize? How about... I treat you to a bowl of tea?"

Someone in the crowd sneered, "Coward!"

Zhao Hongling stomped her foot in frustration. "What are you afraid of! Don't you know Martial Artist techniques?"

Chen Xuan kept his head lowered, his expression submissive, and his words soft, but his peripheral vision scanned the surroundings.

The guards at the city gate leaned lazily against the wall, enjoying the show. Street vendors shrank away, not daring to get close, while several children hid behind their mothers to peek. In this place, no one intervened in others' affairs; might made right.

He rubbed his chin, his mind racing.

Thugs like this always had a gang of followers. If he backed down today, the whole city would know by tomorrow that Chen Xuan was a coward.

If he wanted to establish a stable footing here, he had to make a name for himself first.

Besides, he glanced at the lingering chill on Leng Shuang and then at Zhao Hongling's hand, which was gripping the hilt of her blade.

These two women were not to be trifled with, either. Along this journey, the weak were always devoured.

It was time to let everyone know that he, Chen Xuan, was not a pushover.

The corners of his mouth slowly curled up, though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"You said three punches?" Chen Xuan finally looked up, his voice still lazy. "Fine. But I have a condition."

The burly man paused. "What condition?"

"If you lose, you have to announce to everyone that I am a dog."

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

"You're courting death!" the burly man roared.

"If you don't want to say that, fine." Chen Xuan waved his hand. "Then kneel down, kowtow three times, and swear to give me a wide berth from now on. How about it? Do you dare to bet?"

At these words, even Leng Shuang glanced at him in surprise. She had expected him to just hide, but he had turned the tables in an instant.

The burly man's face turned livid, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists.

He was used to throwing his weight around in this area; everyone normally called him "Brother Tiger." Yet today, he had been cornered by an ordinary-looking young man. He had no choice but to fight.

"Fine! I'll knock you flat in three punches and make you scramble on the floor for your teeth!"

After roaring, he abruptly took a stance, raising his right fist high as his muscles bulged like iron. "You brat, stand firm!"

Chen Xuan didn't move, remaining where he stood with that same ambiguous smile on his face.

He slowly raised his right hand, brushing his two fingers across the tip of his nose again, the movement as light as brushing away dust.

But in that instant, his gaze changed.

The previous cowardice, hesitation, and fawning had all vanished. In their place was a calm, ruthless intensity—like a blade hidden at the bottom of a deep pool that had finally revealed its edge.

He didn't speak, merely staring at his opponent with a cold smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

The burly man felt a jolt in his heart under that gaze, but the arrow was already on the string and had to be loosed. With a low roar, he threw his right fist like a hammer, the strike accompanied by a gust of wind as it shot straight toward Chen Xuan's face.

An old woman selling sugar cakes by the street covered her eyes in fright.

Zhao Hongling held her breath.

Leng Shuang stood with her arms crossed, her gaze narrowing.

Chen Xuan finally moved.

He retreated his left foot by half a step and tilted his body slightly. The heavy punch grazed his nose, the wind from the strike causing the hair on his forehead to flutter.

He remained standing, not having fallen, and hadn't even blinked.

"First punch," he said, his voice not loud, yet clearly heard by everyone. "You were half a beat too slow, and your force was wasted in your shoulders. You practice external body tempering but haven't trained your reflexes. You can't fight a master."

The burly man froze, staring at his fist in disbelief.

"Second punch," Chen Xuan continued. "Your left leg is weak, your center of gravity is unstable, and your hips didn't follow through with the punch, causing your True Qi to break at your waist. Forget about three punches; you haven't even unleashed the full force of a single one."

"What nonsense are you spouting!" the burly man roared, winding up to punch again.

"As for the third punch..." Chen Xuan suddenly stepped forward, encroaching into the man's space, close enough to smell his sweat. "If you dare to throw another, I'll show you what a real Martial Artist is."

His voice was low, yet it felt like shards of ice pouring into the man's ears.

"I didn't come here to get beaten," he said. "I came to teach you a lesson."

The burly man went rigid, his fist hanging in mid-air, not daring to strike.

The surrounding area was deathly silent.

Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

Chen Xuan slowly stepped back, tucking his hands into his sleeves as he returned to his lazy demeanor. "So, are you going to admit I'm a dog, or are you going to kowtow? Choose one."