A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 163 The Useless Gang

There were two other people following behind him.

A middle-aged man with a cold and stern face and sharp, eagle-like eyes, with a long sword at his waist.

He walks with a steady gait, each step firmly planted as if rooted to the ground.

This is an old man from the Zhenfu Division, surnamed Sun. He is at the early stage of the True Qi Realm and usually keeps a low profile, but he is Tang Dingzhen's right-hand man.

A young woman, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, dressed in a close-fitting outfit with tightly bound cuffs, held a short knife in her hand. Her features were cold and aloof, her eyes sharp as knives. Standing beside Tang Dingzhen, she resembled a blade ready to be drawn at any moment.

This is also an old man from the Zhenfu Division, surnamed Zhou, who is in the early stage of the True Qi Realm and is known for his swift sword.

Three experts at the True Qi Realm stood side by side.

Zhao Zhijing's pupils contracted slightly.

He certainly recognized Tang Dingzhen, as well as the middle-aged man surnamed Sun and the woman surnamed Zhou.

But normally, when these people see him, aren't they all very polite?

Especially Tang Dingzhen, although he was also in the True Qi Realm, his strength was far inferior to Zhao's. When they met, Zhao would address him as "Brother Zhao" and greet him with clasped hands.

But at this moment—

Tang Dingzhen stood on the steps, staring directly at him. His gaze was not that of someone looking at a master whose strength surpassed his own, but rather that of someone looking at a stranger.

No, not just strangers.

There was something in that look that made Zhao Zhijing very uncomfortable.

That's the source of their confidence.

That's the look in one's eyes that comes from having complete confidence.

It's a look that suggests you know who's behind you, so you're fearless.

"Zhao Zhijing," Tang Dingzhen spoke, his voice calm and even, as if casually uttering an insignificant name. "What brings you to the Blood Blade Gang in the dead of night?"

He didn't address him as "Brother Zhao" or "Master Zhao," but called him by his given name.

Zhao Zhijing frowned, his brow furrowing into a knot, his expression darkening slightly: "Tang Dingzhen, what do you mean by this? I'm here to see Chief Liang, what's it to you?"

"Chief Liang?" Tang Dingzhen's lips curled into a faint smile, a smile with an inscrutable meaning, as if he were laughing at a dead man. "You want to see Liang Yan?"

Zhao Zhijing didn't speak, but just stared at him with a gaze as sharp as a knife.

Tang Dingzhen took a step forward and stood at the edge of the steps. The firelight reflected on his face, illuminating his expression.

His expression was strange, like he was laughing, or perhaps sighing; the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, but his eyes were filled with coldness.

"Liang Yan is dead," he said, his voice not loud, but exceptionally clear in the quiet night, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake. "Lord Su slit his throat with a single blow, and his body is inside. If you want to see him, go in and take a look."

After he finished speaking, the street corner fell into dead silence.

Wei Mingyuan's eyes widened, his eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets, his mouth was so open it could fit an egg, and his chin almost dropped to his chest.

Wu Shixun's hand gripping the reins jerked violently, causing him to sway on the horse and nearly fall off. He held on tightly, his knuckles white, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

Wan Youcai's face was deathly pale. He took a step back, stumbled, and almost fell, but was caught by the shop assistant behind him. He was trembling all over, like a leaf in the wind.

Xie Yulang stood frozen in place, as if struck by lightning. His face was deathly pale, and his lips moved, but he could not utter a sound.

The account book in Zhou Fulai's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," but he was completely unaware of it. He just stared blankly ahead, his eyes fixed on the ground.

died?

Liang Yan is dead?

Liang Yan, who had run rampant in Qingyuan County for twenty years, Liang Yan, who was at the peak of the mid-stage of the True Qi Realm, the one they were going to come tonight to bolster their power, is dead.

And it's a fatal blow?

Zhao Zhijing's expression changed repeatedly, alternating between green and white, as if a palette of colors had been overturned.

He stared at Tang Dingzhen, trying to find any trace of lying on that face, but Tang Dingzhen's eyes were calm, his expression was frank, without the slightest hint of guilt, and there was even a faint smile left on the corner of his mouth.

What he said is true.

Liang Yan is really dead.

Zhao Zhijing took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.

His gaze passed over Tang Dingzhen and landed on the two corpses inside the door. He couldn't see who they were, but he saw the thick-backed broadsword nailed to the doorpost.

The blade was deeply embedded in the wooden pillar, with only half of it protruding and trembling slightly in the night wind. It was Liang Yan's knife, which had been with him for twenty years and he never parted with it.

The knife is now on the doorpost; where the person is is self-evident.

His hands gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and the veins on the back of his hands bulged. He almost broke the reins with his grip.

Tang Dingzhen watched his reaction, and the smile on his face gradually faded. His gaze sharpened, like a drawn sword, its cold light gleaming.

"Zhao Zhijing," he began, his voice low yet carrying an unprecedented sense of oppression, "Liang Yan is dead, the Blood Blade Gang is destroyed. Your Iron Palm Gang brought so many people here, are you here to avenge him? Or are you trying to get involved?"

These words were extremely impolite, almost a blatant interrogation.

Zhao Zhijing's face instantly darkened, becoming so gloomy it seemed to drip water. He stared at Tang Dingzhen, his eyes as sinister as a snake, as if he wanted to see right through him and tear him to pieces.

"Tang Dingzhen," he said, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "are you talking to me?"

"Otherwise what?" Tang Dingzhen retorted without backing down, staring directly into his eyes, her gaze sharp and piercing. "Besides you, who else here is worthy of my attention?"

Zhao Zhijing's expression turned even uglier, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched a few times.

The Iron Palm Gang members behind him looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

Some people gripped the knife handle tightly, some took a step back, and some swallowed hard, their Adam's apple bobbing.

They came with Master Zhao to bolster their prestige, thinking it would just be a formality, but who knew they would encounter something like this?

Tang Dingzhen's tone and expression clearly showed that he didn't take the Iron Palm Gang seriously.

But what can they do?

Liang Yan is dead, the Blood Blade Gang is wiped out, and three True Qi Realm experts from the Zhenfu Division stand there, with hundreds of constables behind them.

If it really comes to a fight, are those thirty-odd of them enough to fight?

Zhao Zhijing remained silent for a moment, his cheeks puffed out, and then he suddenly laughed.

That smile was cold, as cold as ice in the twelfth lunar month, as cold as frost in the dead of winter, making people feel chilled to the bone.

"Good, good, good." He said "good" three times in a row, each word sounding as if it had been pulled out of an ice cellar. "Tang Dingzhen, you're amazing. The Zhenfu Division is amazing. Su Bai is amazing."

He paused, his gaze passing over Tang Dingzhen and landing on the figure in the shadows inside the door.

The figure remained standing there, motionless, like a stone sculpture, like a Buddha statue that had remained unchanged for thousands of years.

The firelight couldn't illuminate his face; only his eyes were visible.

Those eyes were calm as still water, gazing in this direction as if looking at a landscape unrelated to themselves.

Zhao Zhijing met those eyes for a moment, and suddenly felt a chill in his heart, a coldness rising from his spine and rushing to the top of his head.

What kind of look was that?

There was no murderous intent, no hostility, no emotion whatsoever. It was as if he were looking at an ant, a stone, something insignificant. His eyes were empty, hollow, yet chilling.

Zhao Zhijing had lived in Qingyuan County for twenty years and had never seen such a look in his eyes.

Chapter Three: The Core Impact and the Collapse of the Alliance. "Liang Yan is dead."

These four words are like a massive boulder that crashed into an already turbulent lake, stirring up towering waves.

Wei Mingyuan took a step back, staggering, his face ashen, cold sweat beading on his forehead and sliding down his cheeks. He remembered his third brother, Wei Mingshan, saying before he left, "Just go through the motions, those people from the Zhenfu Division won't dare to really make a move. With the Iron Palm Gang holding the line, what are we afraid of?"

What are you afraid of?

I'm afraid Liang Yan is dead.

They were afraid the garrison commander would actually take action.

I'm afraid that the young man named Su Bai is really as terrifying as the legends say.

Wu Shixun's hand, which was holding the reins, was trembling slightly; it was a tremor that he himself could not control.

When he arrived, he was thinking of going for a walk, shouting a few times, and then coming back to sleep.

But now, all he wants is to go back.

The sooner the better.

He didn't want to get involved in this mess, and he didn't want to stay a moment longer.

Wan Youcai's face was ashen, and his lips were blue.

He was just a shopkeeper who knew a little martial arts. He usually managed the accounts at Wanchuntang and manipulated the abacus beads. He had never seen anything like this before.

Liang Yan is dead, the Blood Blade Gang is destroyed, so who's next?

Could it be Wan Jia?

Could it be Wanchuntang?

The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became; his legs went weak, and he could barely stand.

Xie Yulang stood there, his mind blank, as if his soul had been ripped out.

He is the third young master of the Xie family, who usually lives a life of luxury and ease. Tonight is the first time he has come out to "do business".

He thought he was just going to stand around, broaden his horizons, and brag about it to his friends when he got back. Who knew he would see this?

The Blood Knife Gang members kneeling on the ground looked like a flock of lambs to the slaughter: the large knife nailed to the doorpost hummed in the night wind; the two corpses lying inside the door lay motionless with their limbs outstretched; and there was also the young man standing in the shadows.

Zhou Fulai bent down to pick up the account book that had fallen to the ground. His hands were shaking so badly that his thick fingers wouldn't obey him, and the account book almost fell again.

He's from the Chamber of Commerce Alliance; he's here tonight representing the Chamber.

The guild leader said, "Go and bolster the Blood Blade Gang's morale, let the Suppression Division know that the Blood Blade Gang has powerful backers."

But now that the Blood Blade Gang is gone and Liang Yan is dead, will the Zhenfu Division cause trouble for the Chamber of Commerce?

The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became, and beads of cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

Fear spread among the people like a plague.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Nearly a hundred people stood on the street corner, but it was as quiet as a graveyard. The only sounds were the rising and falling breaths and the occasional swallowing of saliva.

Zhao Zhijing's gaze slowly swept across those people's faces, a cold smile playing on his lips.

These are what are called allies.

When Liang Yan was alive, they all patted their chests and vowed to stand together through thick and thin, their words sounding better than any performance.

When Liang Yan died, everyone was so frightened that their legs went weak. They wished they could turn around and run away immediately, wishing their parents had given them two more legs.

A disorganized mess.

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Tang Dingzhen.

Tang Dingzhen remained standing on the steps, with a middle-aged man surnamed Sun and a woman surnamed Zhou behind him.

All three eyes were fixed on him, scrutinizing him as if they were looking at someone standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering where he would go next.

Zhao Zhijing was silent for a moment, the muscles in his cheeks twitched a few times, and then he suddenly laughed.

"Good," he said, "The Zhenfu Division has good methods. Tang Dingzhen, congratulations, you've wiped out another gang."

He paused, his tone turning icy, like a winter's wind: "However, let me advise you, Qingyuan County is not a place where you can control everything. Even if you destroy the Golden Knife Alliance, destroy the Blood Knife Gang, there's still the Iron Palm Gang. And even if you destroy the Iron Palm Gang, there's the Wei family, the Wu family, the Wan family, the Xie family, and the Chamber of Commerce Alliance. How many can you destroy?"

Tang Dingzhen didn't speak, she just looked at him, her eyes calm as still water.

Zhao Zhijing continued, his voice growing louder: "I, Zhao Zhijing, admit defeat today, not because I'm afraid of you, but because I don't want to take advantage of your misfortune. Liang Yan is dead, and you outnumber me; I have no reason to fight you head-on. But remember this—"

'

He passed Tang Dingzhen and landed on the figure in the shadows inside the door again. His voice rose a few decibels, almost shouting: "That Su guy, a greenhorn in his early twenties, how much skill can he possibly have?"

Liang Yan was careless and let him get away with it. If it were me, Zhao Zhijing, he might not have gained even the slightest advantage!

These words were spoken so loudly that they echoed in the night sky, causing the leaves on the roadside trees to rustle.

Upon hearing this, the Iron Palm Gang members behind him relaxed their expressions and their tense shoulders eased.

Some nodded, some gripped the knife handle tightly, and some whispered in agreement.

Yes, Master Zhao is right. Liang Yan was careless, which is why that kid succeeded.

Master Zhao is the second-best expert in the Iron Palm Clan, at the mid-stage of the True Qi Realm, and has mastered the Iron Sand Palm technique. How could Liang Yan compare to him?

But Zhao Zhijing wasn't so confident.

He recalled the moment he met those eyes. Those eyes were so still, unnaturally still, like a stagnant pool, like a bottomless ancient well.

That wasn't the look a young man in his early twenties should have; it was a kind of look—he didn't know how to describe it.

He had only seen that kind of look in one place—ten years ago, he had seen a True Qi Realm expert from afar, who stood on a mountaintop, looking down on all living beings.

That's the kind of look that powerful person gives when they look at others.

calm.

Indifferent.

It's as if nothing in the world is worth mentioning.

Zhao Zhijing didn't know if Su Bai was at the True Qi Realm, but he knew this person was definitely not simple. Could someone who could kill Liang Yan with a single strike be simple?

But he couldn't say these words.

He could only stand there, offering sarcastic remarks to Tang Dingzhen, before leaving with his men. This was the only way he could save face, the last vestige of his dignity as Zhao Zhijing.

Tang Dingzhen listened to his words without any expression on his face. He simply looked at Zhao Zhijing indifferently, as if he were looking at a clown jumping around on the beam, a trapped beast struggling in its death throes.

"Zhao Zhijing," he began, his voice soft yet clear, each word like a needle piercing Zhao Zhijing's heart, "Are you finished?"

Zhao Zhijing was taken aback, his expression changed slightly, and his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Tang Dingzhen took a step forward and stood at the very edge of the steps, looking down at him.

His gaze was like a knife, piercing Zhao Zhijing's eyes: "You said Liang Yan was careless and let Lord Su get the benefit."

"Then let me ask you, was Jin Tangjing careless? Was An Chen careless? Was Zhong Ji careless?"

He paused, then his voice rose several decibels, booming like thunder: "Jin Tangjing is dead, An Chen is dead, Zhong Ji is dead, Liang Yan is dead. Four True Qi Realm experts, all dead overnight. You tell me, this is all due to carelessness?"