Fists can't cross Tianjin

Chapter 22 Interception

On a winter night in Tianjin, the wind is as hard as a knife.

As Chen Zhuo stepped out of the air-raid shelter, he was immediately staggered by the cold wind.

He tightened his tattered, drafty cotton-padded coat, tucking half his face into the collar. Although he had just eaten about twenty pounds of meat and his stomach felt like it was on fire, the cold outside was a real physical attack, seeping into his very bones.

"This awful weather."

Chen Zhu cursed, and the white breath he exhaled was instantly torn apart by the wind.

Instead of taking the main roads, he deliberately chose to venture into back alleys and back streets without even streetlights.

Firstly, it's a habit. His predecessor had been wandering the streets and alleys of this area for three or four years, and in the past few days, in order to avoid Hua Mao Er Ga Zi and his gang, he had specifically memorized the alleys. So, he was practically a living map of this HQ district. He knew exactly which alley he could go through and which wall he could climb over.

Secondly, it's intuition.

Although he hadn't seen anyone yet, he felt something was off about the night. It was like being watched by some wild beast, sending chills down his spine.

This is an instinct developed through martial arts training.

The Xingyi Manual says, "The cicadas sense the autumn wind before it blows."

Although he is still a long way from reaching that level, he still has the awareness to face life and death.

Of course, there's one more thing.

After killing someone and walking at night, Chen Zhuo always felt uneasy.

After all, having lived two lives, he was an honest man. Having been stained with blood, he was still uneasy, fearing that he might be found out that he had committed a crime.

Chen Zhuo's steps were swift, imbued with the power of internal energy, and he made almost no sound as he stepped on the snow.

Passing through a row of dilapidated bungalows that were half demolished, you'll reach the entrance of the alley where the tenement courtyard is located.

There was a street lamp at the entrance of the alley. Under its dim yellow light, the snowflakes danced like a swarm of headless flies.

A sign was painted on the wall: "Dumping garbage is strictly prohibited. Violators will be fined." Most of the red paint had peeled off, looking like streaks of dried blood.

Chen Zhuo was about to take a step when he stopped abruptly.

someone.

There stood a person in the shadow of that street lamp.

The man was wearing a faded dark blue work uniform, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thin forearms. Despite the freezing weather, he wasn't wearing a padded coat and stood there so thinly, seemingly oblivious to the cold.

He was carrying a pole.

Ash wood.

It is three meters long, with a metal top that gleams with a cold, eerie light under the dim streetlights.

Chen Zhuo's pupils contracted slightly.

A martial arts expert.

In the middle of the night, someone would be blocking the alleyway with such a long pole; only those looking for a fight would do that. And judging by the way he gripped the pole—a tight grip with his thumb and forefinger, yet relaxed and not loose—he was an expert.

"Chen Zhuo?"

The man spoke.

Looking for yourself?

Chen Zhuo didn't speak, but slowly pulled his hands out of his sleeves and let them hang at his sides. His muscles tensed up instantly, like a fully drawn bow.

"Looks like it's you."

The man nodded, said nothing more, and slowly walked out carrying his pole.

With the help of the lamplight, Chen Zhuo could see the face clearly.

He was in his thirties, with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. There was no murderous intent in his eyes; instead, they conveyed an indescribable weariness and numbness. He was like a worker who had just finished a night shift, wanting only to finish his work and go home to sleep.

"Xie Cheng".

The man introduced himself in a calm voice, as if he were asking, "Have you eaten?" He continued, "Someone paid me to take you somewhere, but before we go, they're buying your two broken legs."

Xie Cheng?

Chen Zhuo racked his brains, but couldn't recall it.

But he could tell that although the man's tone was calm, his aura had already locked onto him. If he made a single move, that white waxwood pole would definitely slither towards him like a venomous snake.

"Did the tabby cat send you?"

Chen Zhuo asked a question, then stood in a rather awkward three-body stance.

Xie Cheng didn't answer, but glanced at Chen Zhuo's stance, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: "Xingyi?"

Then he shook his head: "What a pity. These days, no matter how good your kung fu is, you still need to eat. If someone pays me, I have to do the job."

After saying that, he flicked his wrist.

"Buzz—"

The three-meter-long ash pole emitted a deep, resonant sound, and the tip of the pole, as if alive, drew a circle in the air, pointing directly at Chen Zhuo's throat.

This shake brought out all the elasticity and resilience of the pole.

Great Spear Technique!

Chen Zhuo's heart skipped a beat.

This guy is a master with big guns!

In this day and age, people who can play with ash wood in this way are extremely rare. This isn't some fancy trick played by old men and women in the park; this is a real killing technique.

"There's not enough room to maneuver here."

Chen Zhuo glanced at the narrow alley entrance, which was lined with houses on both sides. If a fight broke out, it would cause too much noise.

He didn't want to bring trouble back to the tenement.

"How about we go somewhere else?"

Chen Zhuo raised an eyebrow, a hint of provocation in his eyes.

Xie Cheng was taken aback, seemingly not expecting this young man who looked like he had just entered the industry to be so composed.

He glanced at the tightly closed doors and windows around him and nodded: "Refined."

We're all江湖人 (jianghu people, people from all walks of life), and even though we're doing this for money, we still have to maintain a little bit of decorum. If we're going to fight, we have to find a secluded spot, so as not to hurt innocent people or attract the attention of the local security forces.

"Where to?" Xie Cheng asked.

"Haihe River".

Chen Zhuo uttered two words and turned to leave.

His back was completely exposed to Xie Cheng, seemingly without any concern that the other party might launch a sneak attack.

Xie Cheng looked at the thin figure from behind, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.

He's a real man.

He carried the pole and followed behind at a leisurely pace.

The two walked one after the other, like a master and apprentice going for a morning exercise, and disappeared into the snowy night.

……

Shortly after the two left.

Several more figures emerged from the shadows at the entrance of the alley.

A 28-inch bicycle silently slid out.

Ergaizi pedaled the bike with heavy breaths, sweat pouring down his face. Mad Dog sat casually on the back seat, his hands tucked into his padded jacket sleeves, his face grim. Behind them, several henchmen followed, rubbing their hands together, trembling.

"Brother Gou, where did they go?" Ergazi stared at the departing figures of Chen Zhuo and Xie Cheng.

Mad Dog pedaled his bike, a sinister glint in his triangular eyes: "By the Haihe River. Looking for a place to practice."

"Then let's..."

"Follow them."

Mad Dog sneered, turned to his henchmen and said, "Get that guy ready. If Xie Ganzi makes a move, that kid will be badly injured, if not dead. We can go watch the show, and... if Xie Ganzi misses, or doesn't kill him properly, we can finish him off."

Erga Zi shrank his neck: "Brother Gou, Xie Ganzi has a great reputation, how could he fail?"

"Reputation? Can reputation put food on the table?"

Mad Dog sneered, a hint of ambition flashing in his triangular eyes. "These days, whoever is ruthless is the boss."

"Hurry up and ride!"

"Okay!"

……