Chapter 123: Without Effort

On the highway, a line of cars stretched out for an unknown distance.

Most of these vehicles were sedans, but trucks were not uncommon either.

They looked like uneven, stifling little huts.

Snow had piled up several centimeters thick on their roofs; the nearby road surfaces were covered in dirty snow and ice, marked by tire tracks and footprints.

It was said that heavy rain and snow ahead had formed thick ice on the road, making passage impossible, and snowplows had been dispatched to slowly break it up.

Everyone had been stuck here for half a day, growing anxious, hungry, and suffocated; many couldn’t help but get out to walk around and check the situation ahead.

Some, however, had grown unwilling to wander aimlessly forward or backward.

They simply stood beside their cars, hats on, right foot planted on the stainless-steel guardrail, hunched over, smoking in silence.

Dozens of meters from the roadside, a few children were playing in the snow.

One child held a bag of red instant noodles, squeezing it hard—as if trying to crush them for dry eating.

The smoking man’s eyes lit up; he called out loudly: “Kid! Do you have more instant noodles? I’ll pay you—two bags.”

The child glanced over for a moment, ignored him, and ran back toward the village.

The smoker sighed, picked up his half-smoked cigarette, and took another drag.

After a while, he saw an old woman in a red cotton-padded jacket walking over, carrying a thermos and half a crate of instant noodles.

The child who had run off earlier followed right behind her.

The smoker immediately brightened: “For me?”

Seeing the roadside was too high for her to reach, he climbed over the guardrail, gripped the roadside bricks, and jumped down.

A short distance ahead, a truck had both driver and passenger standing beside it, watching this scene.

Both men were of average build; one had no distinguishing features except a small, inconspicuous mole on his right temple.

The other man was missing one fingertip on his right hand.

“Why haven’t Old Liu and the others come back? Chasing a cat shouldn’t take this long.”

The fingerless man said, “I’m hungry again. I’m going to grab a few packs of instant noodles.”

The other man grabbed his arm: “Don’t you remember last time we got stuck? Those villagers came over with thermoses of white porridge and charged fifty yuan a bowl.”

The fingerless man replied: “Of course I remember. If it weren’t for the cargo, I’d have taught them a lesson back then.”

The other man whispered: “With our wealth, spending five thousand on a meal isn’t a big deal—but I just hate letting these petty people rip us off.”

The smoking man indeed reached for his money, pulling out a fifty-yuan note.

The old woman quickly waved her hand, pushing his hand back.

The smoker had no choice; he rummaged and found two ten-yuan notes.

After a few polite refusals, the old woman finally accepted them.

He watched as the smoker filled his thermos with hot water and carried the half-crate of noodles back up.

The two men by the truck grimaced.

A while later, their expressions grew even darker.

In the village, inspired by the old woman, many households had brought instant noodles, ham sausages, and thermoses of hot water to help those stranded on the highway.

Prices matched those at local convenience stores—no one raised them, and some even gave things away for free.

Stranded travelers gradually began sending strong, fit men down to collect supplies.

Some chatty ones struck up conversations, smiling broadly, their breath steaming in the cold.

Despite the freezing weather, the roadside had grown lively.

The fingerless man could no longer hold back; he jumped down, grabbed two buckets of instant noodles, squeezed in ham sausages, poured hot water, and stuck in a fork.

He didn’t bother climbing up by gripping the road surface; he took two running steps and leapt straight up onto the roadside bricks, landing back on the highway.

A child saw this and cried out in amazement.

“So cool!”

The fingerless man turned and laughed.

“Here!”

He handed one bucket to his companion, then, unable to wait for it to soak, stirred it with the fork and started eating.

A middle-aged man with a chubby face and a full beard edged closer, deeply moved.

“There are still good people in this world. Friend, you’ve got such great reflexes—could you grab me two more buckets?”

As he spoke, the chubby man held out a red hundred-yuan note.

The fingerless man didn’t even look at him; he spat out one word: “Go.”

Before the words were fully out, the chubby man’s hand with the bill had already reached the fingerless man’s ribs—his fingers suddenly dug in, and the down jacket offered no resistance to the penetrating force.

The fingerless man suddenly felt as if struck by lightning; pain exploded at his ribs, leaving him speechless and utterly powerless.

The instant noodles in his hand were about to fall, but the chubby man’s other hand caught them.

“You—”

The fingerless man’s cry came out weaker than expected—just a faint, breathy whisper.

Terrified, he could only move his eyes, desperately trying to look at his companion.

His companion stood frozen, holding his bowl of noodles, limbs motionless, eyes unmoving, only beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

A young man in a shirt and windbreaker, seemingly unfazed by the cold, stood casually beside him, arm slung over his shoulder like a buddy.

The fingerless man at least knew when the chubby, bearded man had squeezed through the vehicles.

But the man with the mole had no idea when the windbreaker youth had approached.

Chu Tianshu had one arm draped over the man’s shoulder, his Immortal Force already seeping through his entire body.

The force flowed like water, yet could pierce like needles, systematically stimulating the muscles.

Where paralysis was needed, a single prick caused numbness; where movement was required, a single touch made the muscle twitch.

Chu Tianshu pulled him forward, and the man’s legs moved automatically.

Qi Lianyong also gripped the fingerless man and dragged him forward.

But this side required more effort.

The fingerless man’s legs were limp; Qi Lianyong appeared to grip only his ribs, but in truth, he was lifting the man’s entire body.

He carried him forward with one hand, “cradling” him.

The four reached the back of the truck and opened the cargo compartment.

Chu Tianshu leapt in with the man, reached back to help, and all four entered the compartment smoothly and naturally.

The cargo space was large; even with hundreds of sealed cardboard boxes stacked on both sides, the center remained spacious.

“You just rested your hand on his shoulder and controlled his legs.”

Qi Lianyong, upon entering, couldn’t help but praise: “This isn’t just a deep understanding of the human body’s tendons, bones, and muscles—it means you can assess someone’s physical strength the moment you touch them.”

“Is this what happens after crossing the threshold of cultivating both life and destiny? How could your skill have grown so high in just a few years?”

Chu Tianshu smiled: “I had other opportunities—I obtained several secret manuals from past masters.”

“Especially one that trains the back muscles—I’ll show it to you later, Master Qi.”

Qi Lianyong hurriedly said: “I don’t accept gifts without earning them. When I taught you fist techniques, I charged you. What’s the price for this manual?”

“We’ll discuss the price later.”

Chu Tianshu said casually, “I plan to visit the Golden Knife Martial School—could you help me get introduced?”

Qi Lianyong froze: “Why are you going there?”

“Isn’t it normal for a martial artist to visit a martial school?”

Chu Tianshu smiled. “Maybe there’s a business opportunity to discuss with them too.”

When he left home, he specifically changed clothes and brought his savings card.

The card held not only his previous savings but also funds transferred from Macau.

The online store’s profits were secondary; the largest sum came from the reward for the Nie Longding incident.

With money in the account, he felt no anxiety.

Chu Tianshu estimated: with connections and this much money, hiring experts from the Golden Knife Martial School to assist his cultivation should be no problem.

He just wasn’t sure exactly how long the services could buy.

The fingerless man listened as they spoke openly about “Golden Knife Martial School” and “future business”—his heart filled with hatred, fury, and fear.

These two clearly had them completely cornered, speaking so recklessly.

Whether they turned them over to the law or eliminated them outright, their fate was sealed.

“You—”

The fingerless man struggled, whispering weakly: “Ambush…”

Chu Tianshu finally glanced at him.

“Why did you get stuck on the highway, surrounded by so many villagers?”

“If this had happened elsewhere, I wouldn’t mind counting to three before flinging you two away.”

These two weren’t weak.

If they’d fought properly, they’d have matched two Kunlun slaves forged by poison techniques.

But faced with an unprincipled ambush, they didn’t even get the chance to be grabbed and thrown like those Kunlun slaves.

“That’s tactical wisdom.”

Qi Lianyong sneered: “Who’s ever heard of showing martial virtue to criminals?”

“Do you even deserve it?”

Three horns blared from the side of the highway.

Chu Tianshu went out to look and saw three minibuses parked beneath the highway.

This was the strategy agreed upon before departure.

Because the criminals’ truck was on the highway, and its cargo contained valuable antiques.

To avoid accidents, the two most skilled in Wu Gong would move in first and quietly subdue the suspects.

The rest of the martial arts school would find a vehicle and drive along a side road to the highway’s edge.

Then, they could transport the suspects and stolen goods in batches, taking them all away.

Local villagers and drivers stuck on the highway were still chatting and laughing.

Some truck drivers noticed people moving goods nearby, but only showed a hint of envy.

They assumed some well-connected person had brought companions to transfer cargo.

Chu Tianshu inserted several needles into the two men, ensuring they would remain still even after he let go.

But just as he was putting the two men into the minibus, reuniting them with the earlier bulky man and the thin one,

the severed-finger man’s phone suddenly rang.

Qi Lianyong reacted swiftly, his three fingers like an eagle’s talons, clamping onto the severed-finger man’s throat, whispering a threat.

“If you don’t want to die, stall him—say your phone is about to freeze dead and might lose connection soon!”

The bulky man had already confessed everyone’s identities; Qi Lianyong reported them to the provincial bureau, who dispatched teams to make arrests.

Besides these core members, many accomplices were scattered across the region—none of them could be allowed to sense anything amiss.

Chu Tianshu pulled out one silver needle, allowing the severed-finger man to nod.

Qi Lianyong slightly loosened his grip, pulled out the severed-finger man’s phone, and pressed the answer button.

“Hello, Ah Xuan.”

A man’s deep voice came from the phone.

“You’ve been stuck so long—the ferry crossing is already missed. Once the truck comes off the highway, just move to another spot to settle.”

The severed-finger man’s throat was dry: “This damn weather is terrible—my phone’s almost frozen dead. Boss, where exactly are you talking about? Is it safe?”

The boss said: “Jindao Martial Arts School. You’ve heard of it, right?”

(End of chapter)