"Ugh... how did I get here?"
Outside the window, the night wind howled. Shivering awake, the short-haired girl blearily opened her eyes. But as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings, the venomous glare of the old woman not far away, and the ferocious expressions of the sinister men around them, the color drained from her face and she snapped wide awake.
Outside the train station earlier that day, she had seen the old woman take a fall and kindly stepped forward to help her up. Who could have guessed that with a mere shake of the towel in the woman's hand, she would lose consciousness completely?
She opened her mouth, instinctively about to cry for help, when a gentle voice sounded beside her. "Don't panic. Don't shout."
The girl turned her head, and upon seeing Lian Youming, she stared in surprise.
Looking around at the surrounding figures, Lian Youming asked casually, "What's your name? Do you remember what happened?"
"My name is Yan Tao. Yes, I remember." Not only was she gentle and quiet in appearance, but her voice was also soft and tender.
Lian Youming watched the retreating back of the train conductor. "Do you know how to take care of children?"
Puzzled and nervous, Yan Tao nonetheless replied, "A little."
Lian Youming nodded. "In a moment, stay quiet and just watch. Don't worry—no matter what, I'll make sure you end up as Sun Duhe's wife."
Yan Tao asked worriedly, "You won't get hurt, will you?"
Lian Youming sighed inwardly. Who would have thought that rascal Sun Duhe could land such a pretty, kindhearted girl? The kid had struck pure dumb luck.
"I'll be fine. I can handle it."
Her eyes flickering with memory, Yan Tao whispered, "While I was half-conscious, I think I heard that old woman call someone else Eighth Master. He was very tall and skinny, with a raspy voice."
Lian Youming raised an eyebrow. If that was the case, this old woman might not be the ringleader after all.
"All right, got it."
After their brief exchange, the conductor was nowhere to be seen.
Inside the swaying carriage, an unseen murderous intent quietly spread.
Before anyone realized it, quite a few people had crowded both ends of the car. Some leaned against the walls pretending to doze, others smoked, and still others chatted—seemingly strangers, yet they had effectively blocked the sightlines from either direction, running interference.
Just as Lian Youming uttered his last word, the one-eared man could wait no longer. With a flick of his right wrist, a short blade slipped silently from his sleeve. A flash of cold light shot forth, slashing without a sound toward the youth's throat.
Yan Tao's face turned deathly pale, her eyes widening as she watched the blade about to slit the throat of the man beside her. She wanted to warn him, but Lian Youming remained entirely unhurried. Raising his right hand, index finger protruding slightly, he delivered a light peck to the man's chest.
In an instant, the slashing knife slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. One-Ear's vicious eyes bulged wide. His body grew numb and rigid; though he could still move, every motion was as sluggish as slow motion, his expression looking as if he had seen a ghost.
Lian Youming curled his lip. When the strange man in the fortress threw a punch, even a trained martial artist like him had been instantly subdued. Yet when he landed this strike, it merely left the opponent stiff and slow. Against a true expert, the effect would be even weaker.
His internal force still was not deep enough.
After the strike landed, Lian Youming dropped his right hand swiftly, flattening his fingers into a palm that rubbed and lifted against One-Ear's abdomen. The man flew backward like a scrap of cloth, limbs rigid and balance lost, before crashing rear-first onto a bench, slumping there helplessly.
The little old woman's face darkened, and she finally barked, "Get him!"
The moment the words left her mouth, several foot-long blades emerged from in front of and behind Lian Youming's bench. Previously concealed beneath thick coats, they slid from their sheaths with a sharp shhhk. Dazzling arcs of steel slashed down toward their heads, enveloping Yan Tao in the attack as well.
"Hah!"
Lian Youming casually batted away a nearby steel blade and sprang to his feet.
As he rose, his towering, burly frame showed not the slightest hint of clumsiness. With a twist of his waist, the thick padded coat on his back billowed into the air like a kite.
"Huh?"
Yet there was nobody inside the garment.
In a blur of motion beneath the chilling glint of blades, a figure rose and crouched—rising first, then dropping low like a crouching tiger, using the coat as a decoy. Extending both arms straight up, he merely brushed against the wrists holding the weapons. Instantly, the wild flurry of blades was jerked off course like puppets on strings. Some hacked into the benches, some sliced toward their own comrades, and others flew right out of their owners' grips.
Cries of shock erupted on all sides.
Yet one steel blade still chopped down toward Yan Tao. Expressionless, Lian Youming snatched through the air, seizing the attacker's left knife hand just as the edge was about to fall. Enveloping the smaller hand with his massive palm, his five fingers clamped down hard.
"Aaargh!"
The wielder was a dark-faced brute who had looked cold and ferocious a moment before. But under Lian Youming's grip, his five fingers twisted like dough twists, bones splintering and popping loudly. Overwhelmed by agony, he opened his mouth to shriek, only to have a steamed cornbread bun shoved into it, gagging him instantly.
Without letting go, Lian Youming extended and snapped his right arm back. The brute's eyes bulged as his entire arm was shaken taut like a hemp rope; then, his elbow joint was forcibly dislocated beneath the flesh, the agony nearly knocking him unconscious.
Bone-dislocating qinna.
Seeing this, the remaining men frantically raised their blades to strike again. Lian Youming rubbed his palms together, sliding the fleshy edges of his hands along the flats of the blades. Flipping his wrists and turning his palms, he seized the weapon hands of two men in the blink of an eye. With a burst of strength in his fingers, a crisp crack rang out. Both men flushed crimson, blood vessels bursting into fine webs across their eyes.
Looking at their knife hands, the fingers had curled inward like chicken claws—broken clean through.
Before they could even cry out, Lian Youming pressed lightly on their chests and bellies, shoving them back onto their seats.
Yet two more flashes of steel chopped toward Lian Youming's flank, already right in front of him.
Fierce momentum, tricky angles.
Lian Youming remained calm. His eyes flashed as he twisted his waist and turned his head in one fluid motion. Opening the crooks between his thumbs and forefingers like pincers, he clamped down on the spines of both blades just inches from his face.
The two wielding the blades flushed red, straining with all their might to press down, but the steel blades remained completely motionless, locked suspended in midair.
Looking at the blades hovering nearly against his face, Lian Youming flashed an eerie, menacing grin. "Tsk, tsk. Almost."
His teasing tone abruptly turned icy. With a flick of his wrists, the two before him were stripped of their blades. Terrified, they tried to scramble back, only to find two fleshy palms pressing lightly against their middles. In the next instant, both tumbled backward and collapsed limp to the floor.
Having dealt with them, Lian Youming suddenly tilted his head. A sharpened screwdriver thrust through the air at an angle, grazing past his cheek.
Up on the luggage rack, the little old woman had coiled herself like a cat, her eyes venomous. Despite her advanced age, she was terrifyingly nimble. Seeing her strike miss, she pulled back at once.
As if fearing Lian Youming would pursue her, she rasped an order: "Kill the woman!"
Lian Youming scoffed. Bending his knees slightly, he lunged forward like an ape leaping across a ravine. His large hand darted through the air, clamping onto one of the old woman's legs.
This was a technique he had devised over the past few days of his return journey: the Ape Catch stance from the Ape Frolic of the Five Animal Frolics, combined with the lower body foundation forged through Tantui and the fierce countenance of the monkey observed from Journey to the West. As he unleashed it now, he resembled a vicious ape bursting through a mountain, reeking of murderous malice.
Lian Youming tightened his grip, intending to capture the old woman. To his surprise, she drew back her right leg, slipping free as slickly as a loach. In a few bounds, she darted past the crowd and fled toward the far end of the carriage.
Failing to secure her with that move, he raised a thick eyebrow and glanced at her pitch-black trousers. They did not seem to be sewn from ordinary cloth; not a stitch was visible, and the material was extraordinarily slippery.
Without a shred of hesitation, Lian Youming turned around. His hands struck and pressed in a blur of motion, grabbing the peasant women clutching infants and pinning down the passengers preparing to make a move.
With this flurry of actions, the seated passengers throughout the carriage stayed firmly in their places. Their eyes darted about in panic, yet their limbs were stiff and numb, refusing to obey, and none dared to make a reckless move.
One-Ear had finally recovered some strength and tried to seize the chance to stand, only for Lian Youming to grab him by his remaining ear.
The brute was already pale with terror. Tilting his neck along with the force tugging his ear, he hurriedly scrambled up and stammered, trembling from head to toe, "Boss, p-please... we can talk this over..."
Chapter 54