Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Zhang Yuan twisted his short, thick neck, looked down at his robes, and stared wide-eyed:

"You audacious commoner! Are you deliberately mocking me? Or are you really going to stand up for this lowly servant?"

Zhu Cilang's heart sank, but his face immediately adopted a perfectly measured expression of fear; he needed to calm this person down first.

"Please calm down, young master!"

He quickly took half a step back, cupped his hands, and said:

"Your servant suddenly exerted force just now, catching me off guard. I had no intention of offending you. Please forgive me for any offense caused."

Muddy water was flowing down the hem of Zhang Yuan's robe, emitting a nauseating stench under the sunlight.

A stray dog ​​in the corner suddenly barked softly, as if it too had sensed the unease.

Zhang Yuan squinted his puffy eyes:

"You dirtied my robe, and you think you can just say 'please forgive me' and call it a day? Who do you take me for?"

He paced half a step around Zhu Cilang, his tone suddenly turning stern.

"I see you're deliberately looking for trouble, trying to stand up for this wretched servant. Today, I'll teach you a lesson!"

He raised his hand and waved, and three brown-clad attendants rushed forward, surrounding Zhu Cilang on the bluestone slab.

The previously crowded area dispersed instantly, leaving a quiet, empty space. Several vendors hurriedly pulled their stalls back to their displays.

"Kneel down and kowtow to me, and I might take pity on you and break one of your legs!"

Zhu Cilang's brow furrowed slightly, but he maintained his steady tone:

"Why must you be angry, sir? I have already apologized and am willing to compensate you. Why be so aggressive?"

"Stop talking nonsense!"

Zhang Yuan interrupted him sharply before he could finish speaking.

"Tear that poor bastard's mouth apart! Teach him a lesson he doesn't know who the King of Horses is!"

Before he could finish speaking, two brown-clad attendants had already formed a pincer movement and surrounded him.

The third servant was about to step forward when Song An blocked his way:

"Don't even think about bullying the weak with numbers!"

Zhu Cilang twisted his heel, spun around abruptly, and splashed water in a half-circle beneath his feet—

Almost instinctively, they adopted the "triangle guard" stance for close combat.

The servant with the slanted eye on the left lunged forward and threw a punch, the force of which struck straight at his face;

Zhu Cilang suddenly tilted his head to the right, his left arm flipped upward to parry, and the outside of his forearm precisely blocked the opponent's wrist.

In an instant, the five fingers of the left hand grab the opponent's forearm and twist it back.

With a soft "crack," before the squint could even let out a scream, he was already swaying to the left in pain.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Zhu Cilang used his waist and hips to deliver a powerful blow, his right palm striking his opponent's earlobe like a knife.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, the squint-eyed man collapsed to the ground without even uttering a sound.

Almost simultaneously, a sudden gust of wind arose behind them!

The horse-faced servant's high sweeping leg had already reached his waist and ribs.

Before Zhu Cilang could turn around, his body instinctively retreated and dodged to the side—

He slid his left foot diagonally backward to create distance, then lowered his body, his sharp leg brushing past him.

Before his opponent could retract his leg, he took a step forward and lunged forward, his right foot striking out like a venomous snake, the toe precisely hitting the side of the knee of the horse's supporting leg.

"Snap!"

With another sharp crack and a miserable howl, the horse's face collapsed, crashing heavily onto the bluestone slab, splashing mud and water everywhere.

Before he could struggle, Zhu Cilang's shoe tip was already firmly hovering three inches above his Adam's apple, completely unmoved.

"Move again, and you'll pierce the throat."

Two swift close-quarters combat techniques instantly brought the two followers to the ground.

Just then, the servant who was entangled with Song An saw that things were not going well, turned around and slipped into the crowd, heading towards the teahouse on the street corner with practiced ease.

Zhu Cilang stopped and stood still. These brutes who only knew how to be fierce couldn't even stand firmly on their horse stance. Their attack just now was like a drunkard pushing open a door. They were really no match for him.

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of noise.

The old man selling steamed buns dropped his bamboo steamer and smashed it on the ground.

"What kind of tricks does this young man use?"

Zhao the hunchback, who sold sugar paintings, leaned against his carrying pole and muttered:

"This old man has traveled all over the country for forty years."

"I've only ever seen the Shaolin Temple's Tiger-Taming Fist and the Wudang Mountain's Cloud Hands, but who's ever seen someone smash their ear with an elbow? This move..."

"Shh-"

Butcher Wang wiped his mouth with his greasy sleeve.

"Look at how he flips his wrist like a rattle drum! Could it be some secret chokehold technique from the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"

"Last year, my nephew saw the Imperial Guards arresting people in Yingtian Prefecture. Their methods were..."

Before he could finish speaking, the vegetable vendor next door poked him in the lower back.

Only the scholar swayed his head, not even bothering to straighten his crooked headscarf:

"No, no!"

"This is no ordinary martial arts! Judging from his footwork, his movements are like a hawk darting through the forest, feinting to the left and striking to the right. Could it be...?"

He suddenly lowered his voice.

"Could it be the long-lost secret of combat techniques from the military?"

The commoner girl, Xiao Cui, huddled in the corner, her gaze shifting between Zhu Cilang and Zhang Yuan, her sobs coming in fits and starts.

Song An had already retreated to Zhu Cilang's side, watching the surrounding movements warily.

Zhu Cilang stood still, calmly straightening his clothes.

When he looked up at Zhang Yuan, his gaze, though not sharp, forced the other to take a half-step back.

"This was a coincidence, and all courtesy has been observed. If you press the matter further, do not blame me for showing no mercy."

Seeing that Zhu Cilang did not press forward, Zhang Yuan regained some courage and suddenly shouted in a shrill voice:

"This is outrageous! You bastard, how dare you..."

He choked on his words, his finger circling twice in the air before he remembered where to point.

"Are you blind?! This young master... this young master's uncle is Zhang Bingchang, the fourth-rank prefect of Luzhou!"

"You...you unruly commoners, how dare you be so insolent?"

His sweaty face turned a deep purplish-red, and he abruptly turned his head and screamed:

"Guards! Report this to the authorities! Seize this troublemaker!"

Before he finished speaking, a gap suddenly appeared in the crowd, and the attendant who had fled earlier dragged three constables through.

The head constable immediately bowed and scraped when he saw Zhang Yuan:

"Young Master Zhang, what has happened?"

When Zhang Yuan saw the yamen runners arrive, he suddenly stuck out his belly.

"Officer Wang!"

His short, thick index finger jabbed at Zhu Cilang.

"You've come at the right time. These two troublemakers are causing trouble in the street and even attacked my men."

"Lock them up in the yamen and punish them severely, so they'll know the power of this young master!"

He then turned to Xiao Cui, the village girl huddled in the corner.

"Even that lowly maid is locked up! This whole mess is her fault!"

It happened so quickly!

Zhu Cilang was only then surprised to realize that just now on the second floor of the teahouse, there were clearly two yamen runners in black uniforms eating melon seeds and drinking tea.

The yamen runners and the Zhang family swarmed forward.

Zhu Cilang's five fingers suddenly contracted, his fist clenched tightly, but he stopped abruptly when it touched the yamen runner's black robe.

Government officials represent the public power of the imperial court. Beating up yamen runners is a serious crime of defying officials. The punishment ranges from caning and exile to death.

Song An struggled for a moment, but was restrained by another yamen runner with an iron ruler.

In the blink of an eye, Zhu Cilang and Song An were bound like dumplings and then forcibly taken to the yamen.

Zhu Cilang's back was pressed tightly against the hemp rope. He suddenly felt that it was absurd and ridiculous that he had fallen into the hands of such a villain.

His temperament, honed by the confines of the palace, was such that he couldn't stand the sight of demons and monsters and would lose his composure; moreover, this young body possessed an abundance of youthful vigor...

He suppressed his distracting thoughts and glanced at the iron ruler at the bailiff's waist.

How can we extricate ourselves now?

This question lingered in Zhu Cilang's mind.