Chapter 128: The Great Battle of Luoyang

Fortunately, they managed to seize a civilian boat by the river in Temple Front Village. The four of them had just entered the Yellow River estuary when they noticed numerous boats emerging from Yulin Village, heading swiftly toward their vessel.

He Zhixing hastily steered the boat downstream, cranking the electric exhaust to its highest setting and pushing the speed to its limit. The turbulent currents of the Yellow River tossed them about, often making it difficult to maintain balance. Glancing back at the pursuing boats nearly a mile away, their nerves were taut as a bowstring.

Along the way, many interception teams blocked their path. Undeterred, they crashed through and fought their way from Beitougou to Tuojia Gou, then Zigou, and finally to Jiama Kou. The journey was fraught with danger. Each of them was capable of holding their own—after training for so long in the valley with the Golden Money Spirit Tortoise, their martial arts had advanced remarkably. The police special forces attempting to intercept them were no match.

He Zhixing’s skill was particularly formidable; he could foresee where the danger was greatest and where it was less, allowing them to avoid many hazards and escape numerous perils.

They fought and rammed their way through, the civilian boat bearing numerous scratches and tears from the rough journey. After two days and nights of relentless struggle, they finally reached Sanmenxia. There, they found a secluded spot to dock and disembarked.

From Sanmenxia, they boarded a vehicle bound for Luoyang, unwilling to rest even for a moment. Once on the road, they seized every chance to catch up on sleep and practice breathing exercises to recover.

Upon arriving in Luoyang city, they slipped into the labyrinthine streets and alleys. The police special forces hot on their trail missed them by mere inches. Immediately, local governments and police departments across Luoyang coordinated a full-scale manhunt to capture the four.

They were finally spotted in the LC district. He Zhixing had long prepared four small cloth bags filled with soybeans for emergencies, distributing one to each of them. As numerous police vehicles with sirens blared rushed toward their position, they exchanged glances. He Zhixing turned to the three women and said, “What’s meant to come will come. It looks like a tough fight is inevitable. Are you ready?”

The women nodded, sharing a knowing smile.

Chaos erupted around them as police cars screeched to a halt, blocking all exits. He Zhixing slowly revealed a file and a wooden figurine of a young woman in his hands, while his pockets bulged with soybeans. The Spirit Cauldron was secured in his bag on his back. On Li Wuxin’s shoulder, the sable stared intently, ready to spring into action.

More police cars continued to pour in. He Zhixing knew they couldn’t wait until they were completely surrounded to fight—it would be far more exhausting and futile then. Turning to the women, he said firmly, “Attack!”

Without hesitation, he dashed forward and struck the police vehicles blocking their path with a powerful blow, igniting the chaotic battle. In these narrow streets of the LC district, they unleashed their full strength. The four moved with seamless coordination, attacking with all their might.

Time was of the essence; only by breaking through the newly formed encirclement and slipping into the houses and shadowed alleys could they hope to escape. For a moment, the streets turned upside down, filled with the sounds of turmoil and combat.

The riotous crowd mingled with the clash of blows. The police special forces dared not open fire yet—without orders from above, they couldn’t act recklessly. And how could these ordinary officers and special agents hope to match four martial artists whose inner strength and skills far surpassed theirs? In their eyes, the vast number of police officers was insignificant—no matter how many, what difference did it make?

How could those without cultivated inner energy compare to those who had mastered it?

Soon, more police vehicles thundered in. Calls for higher reinforcements had already been made, along with urgent requests to authorize firearms against He Zhixing and the others. Their superiors, having heard how formidable and invincible these four were, finally agreed to permit shooting—but ordered that they must not be killed.

A greater storm was brewing. He Zhixing seemed to have anticipated that they would be forced to escalate to firearms. With a cold snort, he moved even faster, weaving through the streets and alleys, using houses and shadows as cover to outmaneuver them in a deadly game of speed. With a sudden burst of pace, the four quickly slipped through several blocks, putting distance between themselves and their pursuers.