Huang Mao was the first to rush into the alley, but the moment he stepped in, he froze. There was no one in sight.
"Huh? Strange… I clearly saw him run in here. Where the hell did he go?"
Zhao Ergou frowned, scanning the dim alley. He motioned to his men. "Spread out and search. He can't have gone far."
Before anyone could move, a calm voice echoed from behind them.
"No need to search. I'm right here."
Everyone turned sharply.
Jiang Chen stood casually near the wall, chewing a leaf, hands in his pockets, his face calm as ever.
Zhao Ergou's face twisted. "Kid, was it you who beat up my boys?"
"They brought it on themselves," Jiang Chen said with a shrug.
Zhao Ergou's expression darkened. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."
"I'm used to it."
"You're pretty arrogant, aren't you?" Zhao Ergou sneered. "Let me teach you how to behave."
He waved his hand. "Brothers, show him what we do to punks who don't know their place!"
Huang Mao and the others charged in with loud shouts and flailing fists.
Jiang Chen didn't move at first. He just shook his head slightly. "What a joke."
In the blink of an eye, his body shifted. His hand snapped out, slapping Huang Mao across the face with a loud crack.
"Ahh!" Huang Mao stumbled back, a red mark burning on his cheek.
Then, Jiang Chen stepped forward, pivoted on his toe, and spun.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
Three dull bone-snapping thuds rang out as his leg swept through the knees of the three thugs closest to him. They dropped like stones, screaming in pain.
Zhao Ergou's pupils shrank.
Four down in one move?
Clenching his teeth, he pulled out a fruit knife and rushed forward, eyes filled with rage.
"You're dead!"
Jiang Chen's expression cooled.
"I warned you."
He moved like wind—one step forward, one twist of the wrist—and the knife was already in his hand.
"Crack!"
Zhao Ergou let out a pained grunt and fell to his knees, clutching his broken wrist.
Jiang Chen stood over him.
"Misunderstanding, big bro. I was just—just trying to scare you, honest!" Zhao Ergou stammered.
"Big bro?" Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow.
Zhao Ergou chuckled nervously. "No, no! I meant… I meant great big brother!"
"Who's your brother?"
Behind him, Huang Mao started screaming again, "You've gone too far! Do you know who we are?! We—"
"Smack!"
Jiang Chen's backhand shut him up.
"I'm bullying you now. Got a problem?"
Huang Mao trembled. He opened his mouth.
"Smack!"
"I…!"
"Smack!"
"You were so loud just now. What happened?"
"Smack!"
Tears welled in Huang Mao's eyes. He didn't dare speak or stay silent.
Jiang Chen finally stepped back and turned toward Zhao Ergou.
"Listen. I'm in a good mood today. So I won't take this further. But next time—"
He tossed the fruit knife in the air.
"—It'll end like this knife."
He flicked a finger.
"Crack!"
The blade split in two and hit the ground with a clatter.
Zhao Ergou, Huang Mao, and the rest stood frozen. Not one of them dared breathe.
Jiang Chen turned around and walked away with both hands behind his back, calm as a breeze.
After leaving the alley, he made his way back toward the school.
But on his way through the park, he caught sight of a girl training under a willow tree by the lake.
She was tall, dressed in sportswear, and her punches were sharp and fast. She moved with confidence, her ponytail swaying like a whip. Her figure was firm and strong, her posture proud.
Jiang Chen watched quietly for a few moments, then shook his head and muttered, "Technique's decent, but your balance and strength are off."
He turned to leave.
But the girl noticed his gaze—and that head shake—and walked over quickly to block his path.
"Hey," she said coldly. "What do you mean by shaking your head? Who are you looking down on?"
Jiang Chen looked at her calmly, then smiled faintly.
"You."