Chapter 54

He spent a night in the space; outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Li Ping'an stepped out of the large wooden barrel filled with medicinal liquid, hot water splashing down. The spirit spring water nourished him, plus the effect of the medicinal bath; the internal organs and hidden injuries he'd sustained from his hard clash with Miyamoto Musashi last night were mostly healed. The strength beneath his flesh became full again, and it was tightly restrained.

He changed into that washed-white coarse cloth jacket, pulled the rickshaw, and dove again into the early morning bustle of Beiping City. Living off idle wealth isn't an option; pulling a rickshaw both shields one's eyes and is the least conspicuous way to gather information.

Indeed, the atmosphere in the city felt even more off than yesterday. More Japanese soldiers and Black Dogs were loitering on the streets, their eyes malicious; they inspected people as if looking for trouble, and if you moved a little slow or said something wrong, they'd strike with fists and feet, even dragging you away directly. An invisible sense of panic spread through the air.

Li Ping'an pulled the rickshaw, carefully avoiding the patrol squad, but his ears were like antennas, perked up to pick up scattered bits of information.

"Have you heard? Something big happened!" "What? Another arrest?" "No… it's that… Gangcun Ningci… yes, Gangcun Ningci! I heard he's come down with an evil illness and won't last long." "Really? Heaven has opened its eyes?" "Shh! You're courting death! Keep it down!" "The doctors at the hospital have been taken away in several batches; they say if they can't cure him, then… sigh…" "What a sin… what new trick is this?"

News spread like wildfire, with all sorts of rumors, but the core was the same: Gangcun Ningci was on his last legs, and the Japanese soldiers were frantically looking for a cure, using harsh methods. Li Ping'an smirked inwardly; it seemed his slow** medicine had taken effect. But the commotion had grown too large, meaning the city-wide search would become stricter, and he needed to be more careful.

He pulled the rickshaw to a relatively bustling street side, set it down to wait for customers. The sun was a bit glaring, so he lowered his hat brim, leaned on the handlebars, pretended to doze, but actually kept watch in all directions.

Suddenly, his heightened perception caught a few hostile glances. He glanced askance and saw three men in identical rickshaw driver's short jackets squatting on a nearby curb, huddled together pointing at him and smirking with schadenfreude. They were the three ruffians who had tried to extort him a few days earlier but ended up being taught a lesson.

One of them noticed Li Ping'an looking over, his face changed, he turned his head and muttered something to the other two, then slipped sideways into the small alley. The remaining two exchanged a glance, then swayed left and right, approaching from a distance, obviously keeping an eye on him.

Li Ping'an felt a jolt in his heart, knowing trouble had come knocking. Yet his expression remained unchanged; he continued to lean on the rickshaw, as if he noticed nothing.

Not long after, a chaotic clatter of footsteps came from the alley entrance. The ruffian who had just slipped away returned, followed by seven or eight burly men, each with fierce brows and tiger tattoos on their arms; leading them was a fattie with a face full of horizontal flesh and a beer belly, his gold chain almost cutting into his neck. This group surged forward with a menacing aura straight toward Li Ping'an.

The nearby rickshaw drivers and vendors, seeing this, turned pale, hastily pulling their carts or packing up their stalls, fleeing far away for fear of getting caught up. In the blink of an eye, a large stretch of the street was emptied.

The fattie walked up to Li Ping'an's rickshaw, lifted his foot and kicked the shaft with a clang. He tilted his head, jabbing his chin at Li Ping'an as spit flew: "Are you the damn Li Ping'an? I heard you're pretty bold, daring to lay a hand on Biao Ge's men?"

Li Ping'an slowly straightened up, squeezing out just the right amount of panic and bewilderment, lowering his voice, and replied in a thick Henan accent: "Biao… Biao Ge? Have you mistaken me for someone else? I'm just a newcomer pulling a rickshaw, honest and simple—I wouldn't dare lay a hand on your men…"

"Cut the garlic!" the ruffian who had just been tailing him shouted, jumping up and down, "Biao Ge! It's him! He was the one who beat us three the other day! And he even said… that you, Biao Ge, are nothing!"

This was purely adding fuel to the fire.

Biao Ge's fat face sank in an instant, his small eyes flashing with menace: "Kid, you're unfamiliar around here. Which gang are you from? Do you understand the rules of this turf? To pull a rickshaw here, have you asked Biao Ge? Have you paid the protection fee?"

Li Ping'an quickly reckoned in his mind. Fighting? He wasn't afraid of these seven or eight thugs, but if things blew up it would surely bring the patrolling Japanese soldiers and police, resulting in a loss outweighing the gain. Moreover, he absolutely could not use the conspicuous Eight Extremes Fist; if word got to Miyamoto Musashi, it would spell endless trouble.

He kept up the act, putting on a bitter face: "Biao Ge, please understand… I really just arrived, I don't know the rules… these past few days I haven't pulled many fares, I can't even afford a meal… could you give me a few days' grace? Once I earn some money next month, I'll surely make an offering to you…"

"Give your mother a break!" a thug beside him shouted, reaching to grab Li Ping'an's collar.

Biao Ge waved his hand, stopping his subordinates, those small eyes like Poison Snakes scraping over Li Ping'an, as if figuring out how to handle this clueless newcomer to assert authority. "No money? That's fine. Leave the Rickshaw, come with us. When the money is enough, we'll release you."

This is to lock someone and suck their marrow.

Li Ping'an realized he couldn't be kind today. The trace of panic on his face gradually faded, his back straightened a bit, and his voice deepened: "Biao Ge, we're all poor, why push to death? Give a way out, it's good for everyone."

Biao Ge laughed as if hearing a huge joke, and with his men roared: "Haha! A way out? I'm your living King of Death! Brothers, attack! Teach this newcomer how to be a man!"

Seven or eight thugs instantly shouted and lunged, fists and kicks coming together!

A cold glint flashed in Li Ping'an's eyes, no longer hesitating! He altered his footwork, instantly becoming light and fleeting, exactly the Tai Chi Opening Form! He couldn't strike a lethal blow nor use brute force, only relying on Tai Chi's soft power and joint locks.

He moved like a swimming fish, weaving through the gaps of fists and kicks, his hands drawing circles, sometimes pushing, sometimes guiding, sometimes sticking, sometimes linking. The two front thugs felt their punches hit air, wrists tightened, joints ached sharply, and with an "Ow!" they were flung out, crashing into a roadside stall.

Another thug grabbed him from the side, Li Ping'an neither dodged nor avoided, letting him seize his waist, then with a sinking shoulder and dropping elbow he twisted his body like a mud loach; the thug instantly felt a clever force, his whole body losing balance, lifted like a sack and hurled at another companion!

The scene instantly turned into chaos like porridge! Li Ping'an's movements seemed neither fast nor fierce, yet he always evaded attacks at critical points, using minimal force to make opponents stumble or even have their own men hit each other. He wielded the essence of Tai Chi skillfully, deliberately restraining his power, appearing more like clever Self-Defense.

Biao Ge's eyes twitched; he hadn't expected this gaunt, skinny rickshaw driver to be so troublesome!

While he was stunned, Li Ping'an slipped through the chaotic crowd like a ghost and instantly pressed up against his front!

Biao Ge turned pale with shock, swinging a palm the size of a Palm Leaf Fan at him! Li Ping'an didn't block, merely shifting slightly; his left hand coiled around Biao Ge's wrist like a spirit snake, pulling and guiding, causing Biao Ge's plump body to lurch forward uncontrollably, while Li Ping'an's right index and middle fingers snapped together, striking a point beneath his ribs like lightning!

Biao Ge instantly felt half his body go numb, a breath couldn't rise, his fat face flushed bright red, his whole strength seemed half drained, his body softening as if about to slip down.

Li Ping'an, seizing the moment, grasped him (more like pinching him), his fingers applying slight pressure, whispering in his ear: "Biao Ge, can you now talk properly?"

The voice was low, yet carried a murderous chill like ice shards, making Biao Ge's flesh shudder. He felt those two fingers like iron pliers pressing a vital point, sending a deadly threatening sensation; if the opponent applied even a little force, he might…

"Can… can… brave man… spare me…" Biao Ge's cold sweat poured down, his words trembling. His subordinates, seeing their boss seized, were all stunned, frozen in place, daring not to move.

"Make them roll away." Li Ping'an said coldly.

"Roll… all of you, roll the hell away! You sightless things!" Biao Ge shouted at his men.

The thugs looked at each other, hesitated, and took a few steps back.

Li Ping'an continued in a low voice: "Biao Ge, I'm just a poor guy trying to make a living, don't want trouble. Today's matter ends here. From now on, you and your brothers, when you see me, go around. If you come again and feel uncomfortable…" He added more pressure with his finger, "Next time the point won't just numb you for a while. Got that clearly?"

"Understood! Understood! We won't dare again! Sir, please spare us…" Biao Ge gritted his teeth in pain, repeatedly assuring.

Li Ping'an finally eased his grip, then gently pushed his back. Biao Ge staggered a step, steadied himself, clutching his still‑tingling side, staring at Li Ping'an in fear, no longer the arrogant aura he once had.

"Not leaving yet?" Li Ping'an glared at those thugs.

Biao Ge, as if granted a pardon, hurriedly led his men, slinking away, pushing aside the onlookers, not looking back, and ran off without uttering a harsh word.

The onlookers around, seeing no more spectacle, gradually dispersed, but their eyes on Li Ping'an carried a hint of awe and curiosity.

Li Ping'an felt no relief inside. The trouble was temporarily suppressed, but a local tyrant like Biao Ge might not truly cease. Moreover, fighting on the street, even with Tai Chi, couldn't guarantee avoiding unwanted attention.

He couldn't stay here. He lifted the Rickshaw, stopped waiting for passengers, hurried away from the street, turning into a quieter small Alley.

He needed to quickly find a more reliable source of information, or… figure out a way to leave Beiping City? But the girl hadn't been found, and the Blood Plum lead had also gone cold…

Pulling the cart, his shadow darted swiftly through the maze‑like Alley, his brows knotted.

The road ahead seemed to become narrower as he walked.