Chapter 147: The Rhythm of the Breaking Wolf

He Zhixing opened the car door, stepped out, and asked, "What do you want?"

The men all struck menacing poses. One tall, bald man pushed his way through the crowd, removed his sunglasses to reveal a long face with small eyes, and displayed tattoos on his arms and below his neck. The tattoos were peculiar: a tiger and a leopard on his arms, and a fiery beauty below his neck, though the full image of the woman was obscured by his black, short-sleeved casual shirt.

The bald man sneered, "We don't want much. Just the stones in your vehicle and some of the money you're carrying. If you're smart, you'll hand them over willingly. Otherwise, my brothers here aren't as good-tempered as I am when it comes to chatting!"

Upon hearing this, He Zhixing was stunned. The world was truly insane; he never expected someone to rob him for stones. He laughed at himself, "It seems there are quite a lot of hungry people out there!"

A thug standing next to the boss, having sharp ears, immediately caught this. "What did you say? Who are you calling hungry? You’d better watch your mouth, kid! Do you want my brothers to give you a little 'dessert' to taste?"

Although He Zhixing had never been involved in the criminal underworld, he understood the hidden meaning behind the thug’s words. "A little dessert" meant drawing blood. For the first time, he felt the naked threat of so many people. There were thirty-two of them in total, yet He Zhixing did not take them seriously. His only concern was whether they might be martial arts experts; as long as they were just common thugs relying on brute force and aggression, he was confident he could cripple every one of them.

The six women in the car and the truck driver who had helped transport the stones wanted to open their doors and get out, but He Zhixing signaled to them, "Stay in the car! Don’t come out!"

At that moment, the thug who had spoken earlier lunged, swinging an iron bar toward He Zhixing’s head while snarling, "Damn you! Since you won't listen to me, I'll beat you to death, you bastard!"

The women in the car gasped, "Zhixing, be careful! Brother He, watch out!" The iron bar was mere inches from the top of He Zhixing’s head; Zheng Huizhen was so terrified she covered her eyes, unable to bear watching.

Right then, He Zhixing moved. With a single sidestep, he deployed the sophisticated footwork of the Thirty-Six Hanyang Techniques. In the split second before the iron bar could strike, he used a deft maneuver—his right palm sweeping across his chest while his left palm rose in a sharp cut. Channeling his internal energy, he struck fiercely into the man’s ribcage!

A loud, crisp "crack" echoed through the air. The man’s arm, still swinging the iron bar, was struck squarely in the ribs. He was sent flying by the force of He Zhixing’s blow, crashing back into the center of the crowd, unable to rise, letting out pained groans.

The others were shocked, realizing that He Zhixing was a skilled practitioner—and a formidable one at that. This was completely unexpected.

Since the battle had begun, they had no choice but to carry on. They had to test his mettle; besides, they were over thirty strong—surely they didn't need to fear one young man? If they all swarmed him at once, they could crush him by sheer weight alone!

They exchanged glances, and the boss shouted, "All together now! Take this brat down! I refuse to believe he has three heads and six arms. My thirty-plus men aren't just here for show!"

With that, the boss and his men charged forward, wielding various weapons as they rushed at He Zhixing.

He Zhixing pulled out a file and the small wooden carving of the beauty, letting out a cold, mocking scoff as if deriding their overestimation of themselves. He did not retreat; instead, he surged forward to meet them. His figure moved like a swift, flashing dragon. To the women watching from the car, He Zhixing appeared like a mythical figure. Amidst the cries of agony, they realized it wasn't their beloved who was falling, but the thugs. This brought a glimmer of relief to their anxious hearts; they were no longer trembling as violently, though they still watched with bated breath, terrified that their loved one might be hurt.

In less than ten minutes, He Zhixing, with his mysterious and elusive speed, had struck down and crippled more than half of the thugs. For the first time, the women truly grasped just how powerful the man they loved was.