She only saw Chen Zui’s figure flicker.
Immediately after, the burly man flew out of the shop like a bundle of discarded straw, slamming heavily against the wall across the street.
Spiderweb-like cracks spidered across the wall as the man slid to the ground, blood gushing from his mouth. He lost consciousness on the spot.
Before the other two thugs could recover, Chen Zui’s spear shaft had already swept toward them.
He swung the shaft at the man on the left’s knee.
With a pithy snap, the man let out a wretched scream and fell to one knee, his kneecap shattered beyond repair.
Chen Zui flicked his wrist again, and the butt of the spear accurately struck the shoulder socket of the man on the right.
With a dull thud, the man’s right arm slumped at a bizarre angle, his shoulder joint dislocated by the single strike.
From the moment he acted to the finish, only three breaths had passed.
By then, the middle-aged fat man had already collapsed to the ground, his fleshy face pale as paper from terror.
“You... you can’t touch me! I am the Qian family’s Head Manager, and I’m sworn brothers with the Prefect! If you touch me, don’t even think about leaving Meiwu Town alive...”
Chen Zui pressed the spear tip against his fatty throat.
It was just a light touch, not even breaking the skin.
Yet the fat man felt as if his throat had been bitten by a venomous snake. An incredibly cold aura seeped through his skin, burrowing straight into the marrow of his bones.
His entire body shuddered, and his crotch instantly became a wet mess.
Chen Zui took off his outer garment and gently draped it over Yun'niang’s shoulders.
Yun'niang clutched the clothing tightly, and tears finally burst from her eyes.
The coarse cloth tunic still carried a faint scent of wine from his body, feeling exceptionally warm in that moment.
“I’m going to break his legs first. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.”
“No, Little Brother Chen, he’s from the Qian family.”
Yun'niang’s voice trembled slightly.
“We can’t afford to offend them. I’ve already caused you enough trouble, I don’t want to...”
“I can afford it.”
Chen Zui didn’t stop his pace. His voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried the weight of a final judgment.
“Take me to see your young master.”
Chen Zui lifted the middle-aged fat man into the air with one hand.
The man had long since lost control of his bladder, his legs kicking futilely in the air as he repeatedly shouted his toothless threats.
“Put me down... The Qian family won’t let you go... The Prefect won’t let you go...”
But no matter how much he struggled, the hand holding him remained as steady as a rock.
A crowd had already gathered outside the bun shop.
Old Wang the fishmonger gripped his carrying pole, Shopkeeper Li from the tea house clutched his folding fan, and Old Sun was still holding a half-plate of peanuts he had brought back from Dingxiang Tower.
They had rushed over when they heard the commotion but hadn’t dared to intervene, only able to watch anxiously from the entrance.
Now, seeing Chen Zui resolve the bullies in just a few moves, they felt both relieved and deeply worried.
Shopkeeper Li frowned and advised, “Little Brother Chen, that Qian family is the absolute authority in Meiwu Town, with connections in both the underworld and official circles. Going to their door like this... I’m afraid you’ll suffer for it.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Chen Zui turned back and gave everyone a smile.
“Don’t worry, Shopkeeper. The one thing I’m least afraid of is suffering. Could someone please help Yun'niang back to the rear courtyard? And drag these pieces of trash to the side of the road so they don’t block the neighbors’ path.”
With that, he carried the fat man and strode toward the eastern part of town.
The onlookers exchanged glances. Finally, Shopkeeper Li sighed and called over Old Wang and a few neighbors to help clean up the messy bun shop.
The Qian family estate was at the eastern end of Meiwu Town.
It featured vermilion doors with copper rings and two stone lions crouching in front. Rainwater flowed down the lions’ fangs, making them look hideous and terrifying.
Two guards stood at the gate. When they saw Chen Zui approaching while carrying the middle-aged fat man, they were stunned for a moment before drawing their blades and shouting.
“Who goes there? Put Manager Qian down!”
Chen Zui didn’t stop.
“Go call the young master!” the fat man shrieked at the top of his lungs.
One guard turned and ran into the manor.
The other guard lunged forward with his blade.
With a light flick of his long spear, Chen Zui sent the blade spinning into the roadside ditch.
The spear shaft followed through, slamming into the guard’s chest and sending him flying. He crashed into a stone lion and slid limply to the ground.
Chen Zui stepped over the threshold, still carrying the fat man.
The front courtyard was vast, featuring exquisite rockeries and winding corridors—truly a display of great wealth.
Over a dozen guards swarmed out from various directions upon hearing the noise, surrounding Chen Zui.
A dozen blades glinted coldly in the rain, yet not a single person dared to strike first.
Chen Zui stood in the center of the circle, rainwater flowing down his spear shaft and pooling at his feet.
He still held the middle-aged fat man with one hand; the hundred-odd pounds of weight seemed like nothing more than a small chick in his grasp.
The curtain of the main hall was lifted from within, and a middle-aged man dressed in lavish silk with a short beard stepped out.
This man was the current true master of the Qian family, Qian Wanjin.
Behind him followed two guards in tight-fitting martial attire, long blades hanging at their waists.
These two walked with steady steps and had bulging temples—clear signs of genuine martial arts training.
“My friend, I wonder how the Qian family has offended you to the point of causing such a scene?”
Qian Wanjin’s voice was steady, carrying the smooth, testing tone of a merchant.
Chen Zui tossed the fat man onto the ground, ignoring his scream of pain, and lightly pressed the spear tip against the back of his neck.
“He led men to smash Yun'niang’s shop and beat her. Since your Qian family is so wealthy and powerful, can you really not even let a single bun shop be?”
“Friend, everything must be done according to reason.
That shop was originally my Qian family’s property. What is wrong with taking back our own things?”
“Reason?”
The corners of Chen Zui’s mouth curled up into a faint, mocking smile.
“If smashing a shop and beating people is what you call reasoning... then fine, I’m just here to reason with you.”
Qian Wanjin’s expression darkened, and he gave a look to the two guards beside him.
The two guards exchanged a glance and drew their blades simultaneously.
Their blades were far faster than those of the ordinary guards.
The edges tore through the curtain of rain, slashing toward Chen Zui’s ribs from both sides.
Their angles were tricky and their coordination seamless—clearly the work of seasoned veterans.
The blade on the left arrived first, its edge coated in a thin layer of fiery-red blade aura—a characteristic of internal energy being projected outward in the Candlelight Realm.
The blade on the right followed closely behind with heavy momentum, sealing off all of Chen Zui’s paths of retreat.
Standing under the eaves, a confident smile appeared on Qian Wanjin’s face.
These two guards were experts he had hired with a heavy sum of gold from a martial arts clan in Jiangnan.
They were at the peak of the Candlelight Realm.
Working together, even an ordinary Mountain and Sea Realm expert would have to temporarily retreat from their edge.
His Qian family hadn't been able to run rampant in Meiwu Town for so many years based on silver alone.
However, Chen Zui didn’t even blink.
His long spear trembled slightly, the shaft tracing an extremely narrow arc through the rain.
The blade on the left struck the spear shaft, producing a piercing metallic ring.
The guard felt a cold, eerie force surge through the blade. His grip shook violently, and his entire arm went numb instantly. The long sword flew from his hand and nailed itself into a pillar three zhang away, the hilt still vibrating.
At the same time, Chen Zui’s right foot lightly tapped the bluestone tile, sending a ripple through the standing water.
His figure used the force to shift half a chi to the side, and the blade on the right grazed past his clothes.
The sharp wind from the blade sliced through the cord of the wine flask at his waist.
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