"You?" Yang Ping sneered. Then, he took out another cigarette and heaved a sigh. He said nonchalantly, "I think there was such a person. Oh, You're also an old member of Beggars' Sect. This is fate."

Yan Hao held Qiao-Qiao's phone and looked from one to the other in bewilderment.

Yan Hao had heard the older people speak of the tragedy thirty years ago that started the feud between Travellers' Sect and Beggars' Sect but that matter was too far away from him. He had only listened and then forgot about it.

But what had Qiao-Qiao—no, Zhu Qiao—said just now?

What did she mean by "Those people who died in the fire had been 'sold out' by Yang Ping"?

Such a major crime, yet Yang Ping did not deny it!

The elders at No. 110 still preserved some old traditions that spoke of jianghu loyalty. When they meet someone from the younger generation, they would take good care of them. Since Qiao-Qiao was considered an "old member of Beggars' Sect" and was even an old member who lost her home and family because of Beggars' Sect, if Elder Yang knew about it, he would definitely care for her like she was his own biological granddaughter. She had always been at the pet store at the entrance of No. 110, so why had she never revealed her identity to Elder Yang?

Was it a coincidence that she worked there or was she secretly keeping an eye on… Old Yang?

Yan Hao was only slow when it came to interacting with the outside world. His mind was not slow; on the contrary, due to his social anxiety, he was even more sensitive than most people.

He stared at Qiao-Qiao's back, fear intermingled with shock. He suddenly realised that Qiao-Qiao suspected Elder Yang of protecting his own biological son and that was why she had been keeping an eye on him at No. 110!

"Qiao…" Yan Hao wanted to say something but his voice suddenly changed in pitch. "Wait!"

As a mute person, Qiao-Qiao was someone who truly fit the saying, "If I can use my hands, then I won't waste words." Before Yan Hao could open his mouth, she was already thrusting the dagger at Yang Ping, scaring the wits out of Yan Hao.

Taking advantage of his long legs, he leaped a few steps to land before Qiao-Qiao, standing between the two people. He pushed away the dagger in her hand. "Calm down!"

Qiao-Qiao clapped her hands on Yan Hao's shoulders. Treating him as a large wooden stump, she used him as a pivot to "fly" over him as lightly as a butterfly flitting around the flowers and trees. Yan Hao reached back to grab her but the girl was like a scrap of paper, slipping out of his fingers light as a feather. Qiao-Qiao crossed over his shoulders, raised her dagger and struck right at Yang Ping's head.

Yan Hao shouted. He thought he was going to see blood splattering as far as a meter away. But who would have thought that Yang Ping would just raise his arm nonchalantly and grab hold of Qiao-Qiao's wrist that was holding the dagger.

Qiao-Qiao's dagger fell to the floor. Cigarette hanging from his mouth and one hand folded on his back, Yang Ping slammed her onto the ground. A snapping sound reached Yan Hao's ears and a chill ran down his spine. Before he could think further, he was charging forward to catch Qiao-Qiao. The girl had been as light as a scrap of paper just now but Yang Ping was now smashing her like a large hammer and Yan Hao's arms sank under the weight, nearly popping out of their sockets. She crashed into him, sending him back two to three meters until his butt landed on the ground and he became a human cushion for her.

Qiao-Qiao's wrist was broken. It dangled limpy and she was in so much pain that her whole body was shaking, curled into a ball.

Yan Hao looked towards Yang Ping in shock and horror. He had practised martial arts since young and had always thought that he lived alongside experts. He had challenged Yu Lanchuan before and had also been chased by Gan Qing before. He felt that these neighbours of his were all more powerful than him but it was just an ordinary kind of "powerful." No one had ever made him feel this sense of terror.

The body of this thin and small man before his eyes seemed to be hiding an inhuman monster and what he was using was some kind of unknown energy.

Yang Ping looked down on the two of them from his vantage point. His victory was too easy and he was evidently rather pleased because of that.

He bent down and asked Qiao-Qiao, "Little girl, let me ask you. Who told you that your family's deaths have something to do with me?"

Qiao-Qiao's long hair fell from her temples. In just this short while, it was already soaked in cold sweat. She lifted her head and looked out through the gaps of her hair, revealing a pair of terrifying eyes. Yan Hao could feel her body suddenly tensing. A cold glint shot out from her mouth, heading right for Yang Ping's face.

At first, Yan Hao didn't immediately realise what it was. He followed Qiao-Qiao's gaze to look over, staring stupidly, and saw Yang Ping scramble to lean backwards. There were wounds on his neck and his face that looked like scratch marks.

Yang Hao was stupefied. The legendary Hidden Sand Shooting Shadows^[1] that was supposedly hidden in the attacker's mouth and shoots out concealed weapons truly existed!

When he was young, he had read about it in stories and had doubted it so many times. If you hid something like this in your mouth, what would happen if you accidentally set it off when talking?

Now he finally had his answer. It was possible if the person never opened their mouth to speak!

While thoughts were running through his head like a train, Qiao-Qiao had already leaped up from his arms. Fine needles shot out repeatedly from her mouth and while Yang Ping was dodging, she rolled and picked up her fallen dagger and swiped it at Yang Ping's knees. Yang Ping was unbalanced and couldn't evade…

No, he was purposely not evading!

Yang Ping only raised his leg slightly. The sharp dagger hit against his calf with a clang but his leg did not bend even the slightest bit—there was something under his pants leg! The dagger sliced open the fabric, exposing a corner of the metal brace inside. That was exactly what had shaped his pants to make him look different from other people on top of his slight disability.

Yan Hao stared, eyes wide and mouth falling open. If that was the case, how thin must his leg be? How crooked must it be?

"Die!" Yang Ping smashed a palm at Qiao-Qiao.

Qiao-Qiao raised the dagger with one hand to block but before she could lift her hand, the other person caught the blade between his fingers. She heard a whistling sound; by the time she wanted to let go and dodge, it was too late. Yang Ping had stomped on her stomach.

Half of Qiao-Qiao's body lost all sensation from the pain. This stomp flattened her from half-kneeling to lying flat on the ground. Before she could recover, a hand choked her throat.

Yang Ping lowered his voice and let out a sinister laugh. "Let me see you try shooting again."

Yan Hao couldn't be bothered to continue examining just exactly how peculiar Yang Ping was. He leaped up and crashed into Yang Ping from behind.

Without even looking back, Yang Ping shifted his body to the side and accurately avoided a direct collision. This action was as though he could control the situation down to the millimeter and Yan Hao immediately felt that there was no direction from which he could strike effectively. He wasn't someone who liked to cause trouble and his experience in fighting with others was lacking. He paused just a tiny bit and Yang Ping held Qiao-Qiao in his hands like a weapon, swinging her towards Yan Hao.

Yan Hao was prevented from attacking. He was afraid of hurting Qiao-Qiao and quickly loosened his muscles, falling back three steps from the collision. Qiao-Qiao's face was unnaturally flushed and her limbs were starting to spasm.

Yan Hao drew in a deep breath. He opened his throat and prepared to shout. "He-"

Before he could finish shouting for help, a rod hit squarely against his back. The man dressed in a western style suit whom the two of them had followed just now took the chance when Yan Hao's attention was entirely on the fearsome Yang Ping to find a rod from somewhere. The sneak attack was steady, accurate and ruthless.

Yan Hao's vision blackened. He fell to his knees with a thump and nearly fainted on the spot.

"Tang Qian Yan?" The corners of Yang Ping's mouth curled up in a superficial smile. "Hah, what an oaf. Each generation is worse than the last."

As he spoke, he looked at Qiao-Qiao in his hands whose consciousness was already fading. Who knew what he was thinking; veins suddenly bulged out on the back of his hands. Typically, the veins on the back of a person's hands appeared greenish blue, bluer if the person's skin was very pale. However, the veins on Yang Ping's hands were a dark, murky purple.

Yan Hao held on desperately to his darkening vision. He wanted to climb up but his limbs seemed to be disconnected from his torso and refused to listen to his commands.

Qiao-Qiao…

Right then, a police siren suddenly sounded. The man who had sneak-attacked Yan Hao jumped in fright, the rod slipping out of his hands. This man had a guilty conscience. His entire body shrank back and he instinctively wanted to run away. Even Yang Ping's hands loosened their grip subconsciously. Air flowed through Qiao-Qiao's throat and she started coughing uncontrollably.

Unexpectedly, Yang Ping did not panic. Police sirens were typically fixed to police cars but he did not hear any vehicle sounds. "Who's playing tricks?!"

His answer was a stone flying towards him from a very crafty angle and hitting him on the hand that was holding Qiao-Qiao. Yang Ping turned his body to dodge but at the same time, something flew over towards where he was dodging and caught him nicely on his head—it was a man's coat. When draped over Yang Ping, it was as though a large blanket had fallen on him, catching him off guard. Someone took the chance when his vision was obstructed to strike his arms with a rod, forcing him to loosen his hands, and snatched Qiao-Qao away.

Yang Ping ripped the coat off his body in a fluster. He saw Yu Lanchuan standing three steps away.

He had been coveting No. 110 for a long time so naturally, he could recognise this "Little Master Yu."

Yang Ping asked, "You?"

"I'm not playing tricks." Yu Lanchuan carefully lowered Qiao-Qiao to the ground and kept away the personal alarm that sounded like a police siren. "This is just a rehearsal, the police will be arriving soon."

Yang Ping rubbed his arm that had been hit by the rod. He let out a sudden sneer. "I've long heard that Old Yu's family produced a weirdo… Hah! Yang Qing, oh, Yang Qing. Back then, he criticised every little thing about me. But that venerable old man has high standards so it's normal that he didn't approve of me. I have always been waiting to see what kind of person he would pick as his successor…"

Yu Lanchuan was holding the golf club he had grabbed on his way out. His face was unruffled, he didn't feel any shame at all in calling the police. "You're being polite. I don't dare accept the praise. I'm just a little more presentable than you are."

The smile on Yang Ping's face gradually turned sinister.

"Little Master Yu," he said, grinding his teeth slightly. "You're such an important and valuable person, you must have eighty insurance policies covering your entire body, don't you? A word of advice for you, hide further. Otherwise, later on, the mud and blood will splatter on you and it won't be easy to wash off."

Yu Lanchuan removed his glasses and placed them beside Qiao-Qiao. His gaze fell on the girl's swollen wrist. "Sure, thank you. I'm not willing to fight either so why don't we find a place to sit down and have a chat? We'll wait for the police to come and mediate the dispute between the two of you. Coincidentally, they have been looking for-"

Before he could finish speaking, Yang Ping suddenly moved. He feinted, swinging an open palm towards Yu Lanchuan's ear; at the same time, he burst past like a gust of wind, planning to escape.

Yu Lanchuan swung the golf club with the grace and ease of the legendary Xiaoxiang sword. It swept horizontally before him and blocked Yang Ping's path. Yang Ping let out a soft groan. His purplish-black hands reached across from under the golf club, like a poisonous branding iron targeting Yu Lanchuan's chest. The golf club in Yu Lanchuan's hand spun nimbly. A strike and a lift, and it wound around Yang Ping's wrist.

Yang Ping couldn't even be bothered to dodge. His thin wrists seem to be cast from metal, colliding with the metal golf club with a loud clang. In that very cramped space, the two of them began exchanging moves. Yang Ping's hands moved faster and faster until they blurred. Yu Lanchuan had always considered himself to be the type who favoured technique when fighting against others and this was the first time he was forced to such desperate straits. What was even scarier was that when the golf club hit against human arms, the other person seemed to not know pain. Yu Lanchuan's wrists and the area between his thumb and index finger were already starting to hurt. Without thinking, he retreated.

Yu Lanchuan's heel bumped against something hard. He had retreated to the wall.

"You and the police?" Yang Ping smashed his fist forward. Yu Lanchuan turned his head to dodge. The attack had clearly missed its target, yet one side of his face and his ear burned in pain, like he had been slapped with a sharp gust of wind. The brick wall held together by cement even loosened and bits of dust flew up. Yu Lanchuan thrusted the golf club forward, using it like a sword to stab at Yang Ping's stomach. Yang Ping contracted his body and seized the other end of the club. He said with a sneer, "Can you keep me here?"

As Yang Ping spoke, he swiftly pushed the golf club down. Yu Lanchuan's wrists were forced to twist; he didn't dare pit his strength against Yang Ping and let go immediately. When the club bounced up, his leg swept across and the club went flying away to be caught single-handedly by someone.

That person picked up the conversation. "Who knows? Nothing's for sure."

Gan Qing held Yu Lanchuan's golf club and slowly walked over from the other side of the little alley. She wore a face mask and had a hood over her head, and looked like a dark cloud drifting over.

The look on Yang Ping's face finally changed. "Wei…"

"You've got the wrong person." Gan Qing walked over slowly. She gave Yan Hao who had just climbed to his feet a light kick and passed the golf club together with a cab receipt to Yu Lanchuan. "Alliance Leader, why did you run so fast? When you go back later, don't forget to reimburse me… It's not strange if other people got the wrong person but how could you also get it wrong, Elder Yang? Wei Xiao… Didn't you kill him yourself?"

Yang Ping's western-suited subordinate saw that things weren't looking good and had already run off. While they were talking, Yu Lanchuan took the golf club, Yan Hao picked up the rod that had been used to knock him out just now, and Gan Qing hid both her hands in the sleeves of her coat… Three people were just enough to surround Yang Ping.

Yang Ping said, "You're that…"

"Yeap, that's right."

Gan Qing took off the face mask that was rather stifling. The tip of her nose was a little red. Her face had been covered by the mask the whole time and there were fine water droplets from the humidity. There seemed to be a touch of colour on her lips yet she did not have the kind of adorable look that asked for love and pity. She obviously did not look like Wei Xiao but, for no reason at all, the way she carried herself made Yang Ping suddenly recall that nightmarish match.

The young Wei Xiao had a quiet and reticent look. He alone went up against five of them, yet there was no weakness for them to attack. His eyes were cold and always lowered. It made him seem like he was being modest but in actual fact, he didn't really look people directly in the eye.

Their martial arts that they had spent long painful years developing to the point that they outstripped others seemed to be nothing more than petty annoyances to him. Under that gaze, Yang Ping's false and boastful self-confidence also crumbled and collapsed until nothing remained.

For half of his life, he could not walk out of the shadow of this gaze. Even after he killed Wei Xiao with his own hands and wiped away his past humiliation, in his nightmares in the late hours of the night, this pair of eyes still gazed at him like a shadow tailing him.

"I learned some little tricks under Wan Mu Chun's sect. Before I could master anything, I was thrown out of the sect." Gan Qing raised her left sleeve lightly, revealing the snow-white blades at her fingertips. "Coincidentally, I am slightly disabled and so are you. Between the two of us, neither one can be said to be bullying the other."

T/N:

[1] "Hidden Sand Shooting Shadows" is a literal translation of 含沙射影. It is an idiom that means making hidden innuendos to disparage someone, and also refers to a mythical creature called 蜮 yù that hides in the water and conceals sand in its mouth that it shoots at people's shadows, making them fall sick.