Chapter 689: Broken Arm

The thief heard Ling Zhaixing's words and was first stunned.

He seemed not to have expected that the thin thin Weak Weak young woman in front of him would actually dare to speak up and block him, and those triangle eyes, flushed from running, lingered on Ling Zhaixing's face for two seconds, then the corner of the Mouth twitched, revealing a row of teeth yellowed by smoke.

"Get lost."

His voice pressed even lower, carrying an extreme impatience and ferocity.

"Don't think I, the big boss, am afraid to hit a woman. If you dare block me again, I'm going to take your life."

When he said this, he stepped forward half a pace, the muscles on his Shoulders tensed, and under his gray short jacket one could see a dry thin but solid Bone frame.

He clenched the cloth bag in his hand tighter, his knuckles turned white, and the faded peony peeking from the bag's mouth was crushed into a lump by his fingers.

Ling Zhaixing did not move aside.

She Standing on the spot, her gaze calmly fell on that unfamiliar face.

The street's Crowd had already surrounded a Circle.

But no one stepped forward.

The thief's eyes scanned back and forth between Ling Zhaixing's face and the Crowd behind, sweat rolled down his forehead and seeped into his collar through his temples.

He heard the Footstep sounds chasing from behind getting closer, his chest rose and fell rapidly twice, and Throughout he began to become restless.

At this moment, a middle-aged woman squeezed out of the Crowd.

Her hair was all disheveled from running, her face pale as paper, her forehead drenched in sweat, and the collar of her short jacket was askew from the sprint.

She was holding an empty cloth bag, its mouth open, Inside nothing at all.

She ran up close, saw Ling Zhaixing blocking the thief, her eyes reddened instantly, Tears surged violently, her voice sharp and trembling, as if she had used all her strength to shout.

"Little girl! Please help me block him!"

She shouted while charging this way, her leg Foot clearly uncoordinated, limping as she ran, but her steps were very urgent.

"He stole my wallet! He stole my wallet!"

The thief heard that sound, and Throughout he was completely panicked.

He suddenly turned his head for a glance, then turned back to stare at Ling Zhaixing, his gaze's impatience turning fully into ferocity.

One hand still grasped the cloth bag, the other hand reached behind his waist, pulling out a dagger. The blade was short, about the length of a palm, but polished bright, flashing white in the afternoon sun.

He pointed the dagger forward, the tip aimed directly at Ling Zhaixing's chest.

"Dead girl!"

His voice had already changed tone, hoarse and rough, tinged with a madness born of being forced to the brink.

"Get out quickly! This is not something you can interfere with!"

His wrist trembled once, the dagger tip traced an arc in the air, as if showing off.

The onlookers around all stepped back a pace together.

Ling Zhaixing looked at that dagger.

She still did not move.

Her gaze shifted from the dagger tip back to the man's face.

In those empty, out‑of‑focus eyes, something suddenly moved, like silt at the bottom of water being stirred by a force, slowly bubbling upward.

The thief, seeing she completely ignored him, and hearing that the middle-aged woman behind was almost catching up, the step sounds grew nearer, he could even hear the woman's Crying shout.

The muscles on his face twitched, his jaw clenched with a crackling sound, and finally he roared loudly.

"Give face, you have no face!"

He thrust the dagger forward, the blade stabbing straight toward Ling Zhaixing's chest.

"Then go die!"

The blade sliced through the air, carrying a sharp whistling wind as it plunged forward.

A chorus of shouts rose from the Crowd, everyone thought the upcoming scene would be bloodily gory.

But what happened in the next instant made everyone's screams choke in their throats.

Ling Zhaixing moved.

To be precise, she only moved her right hand.

At the very last moment the dagger would have pierced the chest, her arm rose, her palm brushed the side of the dagger's blade, striking the thief's wrist accurately.

Her action was not fast, even seeming casual, like swatting away a fly that landed on a table—light and airy.

Yet the thief's wrist emitted a crisp snap.

Crack.

That sound was not loud, but on the suddenly quiet street it was especially Clarity, like a dead branch being snapped, crisp and clean.

The thief's wailing scream almost erupted together with that snap.

"Ah!"

His arm twisted at a bizarre angle to the side, the dagger slipped out and flew, with a clang it landed on the Green Stone Ground, bounced twice and rolled onto the Path's gutter edge.

Throughout he fell to the side, clutching the broken wrist and rolling on the Ground, the veins on his forehead bulged, his facial features twisted into a knot, and his Mouth emitted a heart‑rending howl.

The cloth bag that had been snatched loosened from his hand and fell at Ling Zhaixing's feet.

Ling Zhaixing lowered her head, glanced at the bag, then bent down to pick it up.

She Standing there, holding the bag, watching the man rolling on the Ground, her gaze indifferent.

The Crowd gasped.

The middle-aged woman finally ran up.

She panting heavily squeezed through the human wall, rushed to Ling Zhaixing's front, Throughout she was still trembling, her Mouth quivering, eyes fixed straight at the bag in Ling Zhaixing's hand.

Ling Zhaixing handed the bag to her.

"Count and see…"

"Is there anything missing?"

The middle-aged woman practically lunged forward to catch that cloth sack, cradling it with both hands, trembling as she untied the knot and rummaged Inside.

Her fingers fidgeted Inside a few times, feeling a flat hard object, then, as if sighing in relief, the Throughout person went limp, Tears streaming down her face.

"Nothing missing! Nothing missing! All here!"

She looked up at Ling Zhaixing, her face, washed by Tears, full of gratitude.

Her hand still trembled, clutching the cloth sack close to her chest, as if holding something more important than her life.

"Little girl, thank you!"

Her voice choked, speaking rapidly, as if fearing that speaking slowly would not fully convey her gratitude.

Inside are my daughter's life‑saving money! My daughter has been ill for months; this is the Medicine money I scraped together. If it were truly lost, I'd rather die!

As she spoke, she tried to kneel again, her knee bent halfway.

Ling Zhaixing reached out, supporting her arm, preventing her from kneeling.

"No need."

She said.

Her hand paused briefly on the middle-aged woman's arm, then withdrew, hanging down by her side.

Her gaze fell on the Ground thief still rolling, then shifted, watching several figures sprinting from a distant street corner toward this side.

Those were City Defense Office patrol officers.

The patrol officers pushed aside the Crowd and rushed in, about to question, but their eyes were fixed on the Ground scene.

A man curled on the Ground, clutching his right wrist and wailing miserably, his face death‑pale, cold sweat covering his forehead, the wrist limp and hanging, clearly broken.

His dagger fell on the Path side's gutter edge, the blade still dusted with a bit of ash.

Three patrol officers simultaneously changed expression.

The leading patrol officer crouched to glance at the thief's Injury, then stood, scanning the surroundings, finally fixing his gaze on Ling Zhaixing.

His brows furrowed, he sized her up from head to toe, and when he spoke, his voice carried a hint of caution.

"Did you hit?"

Ling Zhaixing stared at him, saying nothing.

The middle-aged woman quickly seized the floor, her voice urgent and loud, fearing the patrol officer might mistake the good person.

"It was this little girl who stopped him! He stole my sack! He even brandished a knife to stab someone! Everyone saw it!"

The patrol officer glanced at Ling Zhaixing again.

The Ground thief still wailed miserably, his voice hoarse for the most part, intermittent, like a deflated bellows.

The patrol officers exchanged glances; the leading one nodded, crouched, and pulled the thief up from the Ground. As the man was lifted, he let out another wail, his wrist dangling by his side, pain twisting his entire face.

The patrol officer turned back, glancing at Ling Zhaixing.

"You should come with us for a while, make a Police Record."