Chapter Eight: A Cry Against Injustice

“Go ahead, do as you wish, just remember to come back,” Grandpa Tong said with a careless wave of his hand. After all, it wasn't the first time Zhang Xuan had done this; though young, Zhang Xuan always knew his limits.

“I’ve noticed you really don’t care much about me,” Zhang Xuan teased, “but that’s fine. Raising me freely is better—otherwise, if you’re always watching, how can I grow, right?” Grandpa Tong paid no mind to Zhang Xuan’s words, and Zhang Xuan stopped trying to amuse himself.

“Grandpa Tong, I’m going out for a stroll. Don’t worry—if anything happens, I’ll slip away. With my speed, no one can catch me anyway. Heh!” With that, Zhang Xuan turned and walked off.

Halfway there, he pulled out his specially made sandbags—filled with earth instead of sand—and strapped them to his legs. After stretching, he prepared for a night run. The sky had grown dark, so he didn’t plan to go far.

As he ran, weighted down, Zhang Xuan suddenly heard commotion in the distant woods. He planned to change his route, thinking it best to avoid trouble. Yet the noise grew louder. Curiosity, that deadly impulse, overcame him. He removed the weights—just in case he needed to flee quickly.

By now, Zhang Xuan was confident in his speed, feeling he could even challenge Bolt himself—such was his shamelessness. Guided by the flickering light from where the sounds came, Zhang Xuan crept toward it.

When he felt near enough, he dropped to the ground, crawling forward. This little trick was nothing new; after all, he’d seen pigs, and simple crawling was second nature.

Reaching a small slope, Zhang Xuan peered toward the source of the noise. There, a group of men was besieging a handful of others, the two sides facing off. Among the surrounded group was a young man wielding a long spear, keeping the attackers at bay.

It looked like a temporary ceasefire—or perhaps a negotiation. The distance was too great for Zhang Xuan to hear what was said.

Soon, the fighting resumed—not just fighting, but killing. The attackers struck first, trying to launch a sneak attack during the standoff. The young man, quick-eyed, saw through their ploy, shouted, and foiled the crisis.

The standoff ended, plunging both sides into chaos.

Watching from his hiding spot, Zhang Xuan felt disappointed—the scene lacked the flair of a martial arts drama. As he complained silently, the besieged group, working together, killed two of their attackers.

Luckily, the distance spared Zhang Xuan from the gore; he’d never seen blood or human organs before, and the violence unsettled him, making his stomach churn.

Perhaps the deaths provoked the attackers’ rage, or the leader promised rewards. Suddenly, their assault intensified, and casualties mounted swiftly.

Unable to hold back, Zhang Xuan retched. By the time he looked up, only a few remained: about five attackers, and four defenders, including the young man, one of whom clung to his spear, barely able to stand.

Zhang Xuan wondered if he should play the hero. “When injustice appears, speak out; when the time comes, act.” Especially now, when both sides were exhausted—one intervention could determine their fate. The thought excited him.

He began to crawl closer.

“Hand it over. You’re out of strength; we still have five men, you barely two and a half. I know that spear technique is yours. Give it up willingly, or you’ll all be wiped out,” the attackers’ lieutenant threatened.

“Yang Kai, dream on. If you want it, you’ll have to step over my corpse!” the young man retorted. “You had so many men, now only five remain. What should we fear?”

As he spoke, he drew a book from his chest.

“You see, the spear technique you want is right here. Want to curry favor with your new master? Come on, win and it’s yours!” he shouted.

Zhang Xuan, now close enough to hear, realized this was a robbery—of a spear technique, no less! Not a secret martial arts manual, just a spear technique, yet they’d mobilized so many. Or perhaps there was some hidden treasure within?

He felt even more compelled to intervene; after all, he was short on money, and shamelessly fantasized about treasure.

“If you won’t take my kindness, then go! That spear technique is wanted by the lord; don’t damage it. Once you seize it, hand it over for a chest of five-zhu coins and good farmland. The other rewards are ours to split. Attack!” the leader commanded.

The remaining four, tempted by the promise, hesitated briefly before surging forward.

The young man’s group fought back, but the one leaning against the tree was killed instantly, leaving three huddled together.

“Young master, we’ll hold them off. You run. Remember to avenge us for the old master—we believe in your ability,” one said.

The young man, called “young master,” stubbornly shook his head.

“Obey. Run soon, and don’t look back.”

“Uncle Yang, don’t say that. I’ll live and die with you.”

“Young master, don’t be foolish. Only by living is hope preserved. Only then can you avenge us. If you die, everything is lost,” Uncle Yang pleaded.

Zhang Xuan, having watched long enough, felt it was time to make his entrance.

“Hey, what are you doing? A robbery? Can I join? I’m just short on money…” he called out.

Yang Kai, hearing the shout, looked toward Zhang Xuan’s position, saw a kid, and sneered, “Where did this brat come from? Your mother’s calling you home for milk!”

The others laughed at Yang Kai’s remark.

The young man and Uncle Yang eyed Zhang Xuan warily. Though he looked small, intuition told them this newcomer was not simple. Uncle Yang couldn’t explain why.

“I’m just a passerby. Heard the commotion and came to see. Didn’t know, but now I’m shocked—there might be treasure here. Finders keepers, right? Why not share it, let me help you? With my genius, I’d surely spot the treasure’s location in no time,” Zhang Xuan said to both sides.

“Kid, you’re mistaken—no treasure here. But since you’re here, you’re not leaving,” Yang Kai replied, signaling a subordinate to kill Zhang Xuan.

“I’m just a bystander, don’t come any closer, or I’ll shout. But in this desolate place, heaven won’t answer, earth won’t help. Stop—any closer and I won’t be polite!” Zhang Xuan feigned alarm, putting on a show.

“Let’s see how impolite you can be, kid. Take this!” The attacker brandished his blade.