Chapter 20

Even if he were to go, he would have to be extremely careful—Bai Lang really didn't want to capsize in a ditch, but fortunately there were signs on these roads; by glancing at the place name and direction from afar and then checking against the map, he could still confirm his position.

Bai Lang cautiously used the darkness to approach the highway, looking at the reflective signs at night, and finally confirmed his location. "I didn't expect to already be in Yunnan; this past month hasn't been wasted—it seems I haven't taken the wrong road." That's exactly the case; if someone else also had his martial arts skill, simply following a compass in a straight line could achieve this as well.

Looking at the map, continuing south for just over a hundred kilometers would let Bai Lang attempt to cross the border—undoubtedly the foreign country he faces is Myanmar. This nation, which shares the longest border with Yunnan, is not very peaceful overall—it cannot be compared with China, and clashes between Myanmar's internal forces and border warlords constantly erupt along the frontier; even the warlord regions adjoining China harbor various illegal activities.

Many areas are mountainous terrain that humans find hard to traverse, so there is basically no fenced border line; due to strict anti‑narcotics measures, surveillance here is actually quite tight—focused on the towns at transportation hubs—since ordinary people cannot travel long‑term through dense tropical mountains. Thus cracking down on drug trafficking and smuggling only requires monitoring a few transport nodes, which is why the police lack the ability to fully seal the border, preventing Bai Lang from sneaking across.

Basically, the veteran detective already knew this suspect would surely escape— the capture probability of a criminal is proportional to time; many cases, including missing‑person cases, work that way, the longer the delay, the more the golden opportunity vanishes. Bai Lang has been over a month since he killed those human traffickers, and this man's martial arts are superb; he seems to tread mountains and rivers as if on level ground—where could he have run in a month? "I'm afraid any place in China is already possible." The detective judged that, "Even if he flees abroad, it's probably just a matter of these few days… we can't block it, we can't seal the entire border. With his skill, he could cross any deserted stretch of frontier."

Although the case is actually quite heinous—after all, he killed four people and wiped out a family— that petty thug has been forgotten, but in everyone's simple feelings those four also brought their own demise; if Bai Lang, such a killer, fled abroad and never returned under an alias, there seems little motive to catch him back and give those scoundrels justice… so let it be, let him run if he can— at least the abducted woman among the victims says Bai Lang is a benefactor and a righteous hero to her.

Yet at this moment the hero was disheveled and bearded, yet his reflexes remained sharp; he was walking along a ridge, and these steep peaks could not block his steps— after a month of mountain travel Bai Lang had become well versed in crossing ridges. Moreover, with his martial arts now modestly accomplished and his Lightness Skill integrated into his overall ability, his hill‑walking prowess grew ever more adept. Not long after crossing the border, when he saw a town downhill on the road ahead, Bai Lang felt a slight nervousness— because the signs there were all in Chinese, leading him to think he was still in Yunnan.

But after finally confirming he had reached Myanmar, the guy let out a sigh of relief— Bai Lang also deeply respected the law; in his heart he had no wish to defy it, and if discovered by his homeland's police he could hardly resist and would have to flee, so now he could completely relax. Although the stone in his heart had dropped, Bai Lang's frame expanded and his joints all cracked with a 'kakabaka' sound, and his demeanor instantly became relaxed.

Having arrived, he first went into the water to wash himself, then put on simple clothes and found a hotel to tidy up— no problem, Myanmar uses the renminbi. After reaching the Myanmar‑China border, Bai Lang, having groomed himself, naturally noticed that in the less‑ conspicuous spots on the street there were soldiers and armed personnel with live ammunition. This area is still at war with the Myanmar government— yet that doesn't prevent casinos aimed at Chinese patrons from opening here.

Having left the country, Bai Lang felt he should stick to his original plan: first see if he could join professional combat— Myanmar is definitely out, at least he must go to Thailand.

Still, this didn't stop Bai Lang from trying a fight in the casino— some casinos allow sign‑ups to compete, this isn't considered a black‑box match, and you can place your own bet. "Don't play big, because you could be threatened at any moment." Bai Lang glanced at the armed men, "I haven't even tried shooting a gun." Bai Lang didn't want to test whether he could turn the tables barehanded while being aimed at by multiple people— that depends on terrain and timing— anyway, it's certainly not like the movies, where there's no ricochet and a door can stop bullets...

The result of his trial run was that Bai Lang easily loosened his muscles and bones and readily won a little money. Next he would continue south along the Mekong River to Thailand. Myanmar has no warrant for him, so he could fully use his cash to restock supplies, even buy a bicycle to ride. The banks of the Mekong are also rainforest; a bicycle can only go so far, and in the end he must rely on walking.

In Myanmar, Bai Lang really caused no trouble; he peacefully crossed the border into Thailand. From now on he needed to improve his English. However, the rural folk in Thailand likewise don't speak English— one can only say this is quite a hassle. In the Thai countryside, martial vigor is still strong; the poor there have two ways to rise— either cut a slit in the lower body and spend money on plastic surgery, or train hard in martial arts to enter the ring. And Thailand's identity system is just as shoddy, so Bai Lang could very easily get onto the stage.

These people don't care about identity; they just want bloody, exciting fights. Bai Lang only needs to moderate his force so as not to kill anyone on the spot, and he can easily sweep the ring and take the prize. Consequently, he has hooked up with the local betting syndicate… Bai Lang only told them his surname, never revealing his true identity, and the syndicate managed to obtain a professional license for this fighter— after all, he actually has a forged identity, and rural Thailand has no ID cards to speak of.