Chapter 9: Who Else?

Everyone turned at the sound of the voice.

The crowd parted like the tide, opening a path to reveal a striking and elegant figure at the far end—it was Zeng Xiaofan.

"Hey, isn't that Xiaofan?"

"His eyes... are they better?"

"Yeah! Is he not blind anymore?"

"He looks different today, his gaze is so sharp!"

"You're right, he looks quite handsome!"

Zeng Xiaofan's imposing entrance left the village women feeling a bit estranged, as if he were an entirely new person.

Bai Qingyao was just as shocked. "Xiaofan... you... your eyes are healed?"

Zeng Xiaofan nodded solemnly at Bai Qingyao before turning to fix Zhao Qinglong with a cold, steely stare. He enunciated each word with chilling clarity: "I'll give you five seconds. Let go of my Aunt Qingyao—right now!"

Zhao Qinglong sneered dismissively, spitting on the ground in Xiaofan's direction. "Zeng Xiaofan, do you really think you're someone important now? Back in that shabby house, I was just careless for a moment. Did you really think I was afraid of you?"

"Heh, you dare give me orders? Looks like you don't know your place!"

At Zhao Qinglong's signal, his burly thugs began to surround Zeng Xiaofan, weapons already drawn—some with machetes, others with iron rods. It was clear they came prepared.

Zeng Xiaofan instantly understood that Zhao Qinglong had come for him specifically. Otherwise, why would the debt collectors have waited until now, coming to harass Aunt Yao right after Xiaofan had fought them off?

"Kid, realized your mistake now, huh?"

"You dared ruin my fun with the widow, so I'll have my fun with your aunt instead!"

"Heh, your aunt isn't any less of a beauty than that little widow. That figure—tch tch..."

"Those legs, I could lick them for three days straight!"

Zhao Qinglong leered at Bai Qingyao, then turned to Xiaofan, voice lowering menacingly. "Kneel and kowtow three times, and maybe I'll only break three of your legs. Otherwise, I'll make sure you go blind again today!"

Bai Qingyao, trembling with anxiety, stomped her foot. "Xiaofan! Run!"

"There are too many of them! It's no shame to live to fight another day—run!"

"Don't worry about me, just go, you fool!"

The villagers around them began to plead as well:

"That's right, Xiaofan, two fists can't beat four hands. You can't win against them..."

"Run, your eyes just healed. No need to get blinded again..."

"Go, child, hurry..."

But Xiaofan's face remained calm and composed. Surrounded by thugs, he didn't retreat. Instead, he stepped forward, slowly but resolutely.

"Zhao Qinglong, your time is up..."

Hearing this, Zhao Qinglong broke into a twisted grin. "Still putting on an act, are you? Giving me a countdown? I'll—"

Crack!

Before he could finish, Zeng Xiaofan landed a heavy slap across his face, making the flesh on Zhao Qinglong's cheeks ripple and sending a large tooth flying.

The crowd fell instantly silent, stunned beyond belief.

"You... you damn brat, you actually dare hit me first?!"

Zhao Qinglong was dumbfounded—he had the numbers, the weapons, the advantage. Never could he have imagined Xiaofan would dare strike first.

As Zhao Qinglong reeled in shock, Xiaofan’s hand flew again.

Crack!

"So what if I hit you?"

Crack, crack, crack!

"Today, I’m hitting you, and that’s final!"

Left and right, Xiaofan’s hands moved like thunder, slapping Zhao Qinglong’s face so hard that it sounded like firecrackers exploding.

"What are you all standing there for? Kill him!"

Zhao Qinglong, nearly spitting blood in fury, shouted hysterically. His men raised their weapons and rushed Xiaofan.

"Ah! Xiaofan, be careful!"

Bai Qingyao screamed helplessly as a machete swung toward Xiaofan. The villagers held their breath, many shaking their heads in silent despair, convinced he would be hacked to death.

Yet Xiaofan shifted lightly, stepped forward, and with a twist of his leg and a double palm strike—

Boom!

The machete-wielding thug was launched into the air, crashing into a muddy paddy field seven or eight meters away, splattering mud everywhere.

Once again, the crowd was thunderstruck.

Several old men rubbed their eyes, certain they must be hallucinating.

"My heavens! He sent that man flying?"

"What kind of skill is this? It's terrifying!"

Even Bai Qingyao was breathless, her chest heaving, her rosy lips parted in disbelief.

"Xiaofan... how did you become so strong..."

"Xiaofan, you've grown up..."

"You're a real man now..."

"You're so... tough..."

"A man as tough as you is a true man, not like your Uncle Zhanggui, who's utterly useless..."

Bai Qingyao gazed at Zeng Xiaofan's tall, elegant figure and his crisp, graceful movements, a strange and unfamiliar feeling welling up inside her.

Zhao Qinglong's jaw nearly hit the ground. His eyes wide with disbelief, he swallowed hard.

"What the hell... did this kid take something?"

"This... this can't be..."

"He was a blind cripple, and now he's become a powerhouse overnight..."

"No way... it's impossible... I must be dreaming..."

While Zhao Qinglong was still reeling from shock, Zeng Xiaofan appeared before him in a flash.

All Zhao Qinglong saw was a blur. The next instant, he felt himself weightless, then slammed headfirst into the muddy paddy.

Only as he fell did he realize what was happening and screamed.

"Ahhhhh—!"

But as he opened his mouth, his head struck the ground—right into a fresh pile of buffalo dung.

His scream was cut short, replaced by a choking, gurgling sound as he was upended in the mud, legs flailing and sending dung flying everywhere.

The absurdity of the scene sent the villagers into fits of laughter. Even Bai Qingyao couldn't help but giggle, her allure and mature charm shining through as she laughed.

In the blink of an eye, every thug with a weapon had been tossed into the paddy field by Zeng Xiaofan, some sideways, some upside down.

Brushing dust from his clothes, Zeng Xiaofan slowly raised his head and declared proudly:

"Who else?"

The crowd fell utterly silent.

Not one of the dozen or so thugs dared make a sound; all they could do was cling to Zhao Qinglong’s legs, struggling to pull him out.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, someone began to clap. In the next moment, applause thundered through the field.

"Xiaofan! You’re amazing!"

"Well done, Xiaofan! That bully has terrorized the village for years—he finally got what he deserved!"

"Good for you, Xiaofan!"

The old men cheered, and the young village women gazed at Xiaofan with stars in their eyes.

"Xiaofan, you’re so handsome! My husband won’t be home tonight—come help me grind tofu, will you?"

"Xiaofan, my man’s out working too. Why not help me clear out the ditch tonight? I’ll make dumplings for you after..."

"Xiaofan, me too..."

"And me!"

The young women flocked toward Zeng Xiaofan.