Chapter 28: 28, Turning back to strike

Night fell, and Ren Xiaosu felt as though everything in his life was moving toward a better direction. At that moment, he glanced at the ten gratitude coins already gathered in the palace, thinking how much better it would be if he could unlock that weapon sooner.

Beside him, Yan Liuyuan was snoring loudly. That afternoon, when Ren Xiaosu had gone to substitute for a class, the students, still stirred by the wolf pack incident in the market town, had begged him to tell them more stories about wolves—how to deal with them, how to escape.

But Ren Xiaosu had no intention of discussing such matters. Instead, he continued teaching the children some wilderness survival knowledge. He believed that if these children ever encountered a wolf pack in the wild, their chances of survival would be slim, for the physical disparity between humans and beasts was destined to lead to such an outcome—a lesson that could not be taught.

Rather than instructing them in the art of hunting beasts, he thought it wiser to teach them how to secure water and food to sustain their lives, should they never cross paths with wolves.

Being slain by a wolf pack was a tragic inevitability, but to perish from starvation would be a cruel injustice.

The lesson’s content failed to meet the students’ expectations, and worse still, it dragged on past the allotted time, leaving the children deeply displeased. They might even report him to their parents upon returning home.

Yet they did not realize that while they dared not provoke Ren Xiaosu, their parents might.

At that instant, Ren Xiaosu heard an unusual sound beyond the courtyard wall. Its source moved with great caution, but to someone like him, who had spent years in the wilderness, even the slightest rustle demanded vigilance—otherwise, death might come knocking.

He swiftly extinguished the kerosene lamp inside the room and silently crept into the courtyard.

Ren Xiaosu crouched by the wall’s base, straining to listen to the commotion outside.

Suddenly, someone leaped from beyond the wall, hands gripping the top of the fence. With a powerful push, the intruder vaulted into the courtyard.

Mid-air, the figure glanced downward and locked eyes with Ren Xiaosu’s curious gaze.

The next moment, Ren Xiaosu’s waist sank, his arms drew back as if gathering every ounce of strength into his body—then, in a flash, he struck.

The punch hurtled forward like a force capable of splitting mountains and shattering stones, landing squarely on the intruder’s groin. The man tried to evade, his agility decent—he could have easily defused the crisis by tucking his legs and kneeing Ren Xiaosu.

But to his shock, Ren Xiaosu’s speed surpassed all expectations.

“Wait… ah!” The intruder lost his balance and crashed to the ground, clutching his groin in agony.

Footsteps echoed outside, suggesting more than one assailant. Ren Xiaosu gazed calmly at the fallen man, noting that his attire offered no clues to his identity.

In the next instant, two more figures vaulted over the wall.

“Wait… ah!”

“Damn it!”

Two more bodies joined the writhing heap on the ground.

Ren Xiaosu furrowed his brow—these men’s skills were… passable at best, yet none could withstand even a single exchange with him.

A knock sounded at the door, and a familiar voice called out: “Open up.”

Ren Xiaosu recognized it as the military officer who had previously led the private soldiers in searching the entire settlement.

Suddenly, he understood—these intruders were the private soldiers of Bìlěi. But why were they so inept?

In truth, it was not that they were weak. Though the private soldiers of Bìlěi had grown lax in training, they were not to be trifled with by ordinary men.

They had heard tales of Ren Xiaosu’s fearsome reputation, but they wondered—how formidable could a wanderer truly be?

The original occupants of the room, Xiao Yujie and Yan Liuyuan, emerged from their sleep, now dressed: “What’s the matter?”

“Go back inside,” Ren Xiaosu said, heading to open the door. He pondered why the private soldiers had come in civilian clothes, scaling the wall.

It was clear they sought to strike from the shadows, conducting a second search for the “missing weapon” case—with him as the prime suspect. Perhaps these soldiers were eager to report back to their superiors, yet wary of Luo Lao, the influential figure in Bìlěi.

If they found the weapon, all would be well. After all, Bìlěi’s No. 113 Refuge was not solely under Luo Lao’s control, and Luo Lao might not hold Ren Xiaosu in such high regard. But if they failed, they would face his wrath.

By normal reasoning, after the first search and Luo Lao’s warning, most would not have anticipated a second raid.

If he had indeed brought the weapon back during his herb-gathering expedition, he would be in grave danger. According to Wang Futai, the slain factory manager’s family wielded considerable influence within the refuge.

Ren Xiaosu frowned—this was an unlawful intrusion into a civilian home, and the second search at that. In theory, he had the moral high ground, but in Bìlěi’s domain, who could he appeal to?

Fists were the only language here, and his own fists were not yet mighty enough.

Ren Xiaosu struck down three private soldiers in one breath, knowing they would not let this slide. Indeed, after this ordeal, he resolved to be even more cautious, never underestimating anyone again.

In truth, the officer outside had brought ten men, his fury unmistakable. He could not fathom how his soldiers had failed to subdue even a wanderer, forcing him to intervene personally.

If this incident became public, his reputation would be in tatters. Thus, today’s matter demanded a resolution.

Just as he prepared to order his men to kick the door down, the clinic’s door swung open on its own.

All the soldiers outside fell into bewilderment. They beheld Ren Xiaosu wrapped in a large silk banner, its inscription reading: *Miraculous Healing, Luo Lan*.

The officer fell silent, then inexplicably burst into laughter. What was this? A silk banner as armor?!

Ren Xiaosu remained on high alert, studying the officer’s expression, fearing he might still seek vengeance despite the banner’s protection.

Instead, the officer bypassed him and strode straight inside: “Search!”

Ren Xiaosu followed, asking: “Wasn’t this place searched before?”

The officer’s face darkened at the sight of the soldiers still rolling on the ground: “A bunch of useless fools.”

He turned to Ren Xiaosu: “I am Wang Congyang. If you wish to seek justice from Luo Lao, you may use my name.”

“That won’t do,” Ren Xiaosu replied with a forced smile: “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Wang Congyang scrutinized Ren Xiaosu as his men searched for several minutes before reporting: “Nothing found.”

Without a word, Wang Congyang led his men away. As he left, he cast a half-smile at Ren Xiaosu: “If only you were born within Bìlěi, you could join my ranks. You’re far stronger than these incompetent fools.”

Wait—Ren Xiaosu froze. The factory manager’s name was Wang Dongyang. Could he be related to this Wang Congyang?

No wonder the man had pursued him so relentlessly to avenge the killer.