Chapter 571: So what are you going to do?

Zhao Wen came to his senses, his face flushed crimson.

"Attack! All of you, attack him!"

He waved his hand, and the eight henchmen behind him exchanged a glance, gritted their teeth, raised the clubs and short daggers in their hands, and swarmed toward the strong man.

"Beat him to death!"

"All together!"

Eight henchmen, eight weapons, came at him from all directions.

The strong man stood in place, motionless.

When the first person rushed up to him, he finally raised his hand—

Slap!

A slap landed on that person's face; he spun three times on the spot, then fell with a thud and passed out.

The second man raised his club to strike down; the strong man sidestepped, grabbed his wrist with a backhand, and twisted it lightly—

"Ah—!"

The man screamed, the club flew from his hand, his whole body was flung out, slammed into the wall, slid down, and lay still.

The third and fourth men lunged at him simultaneously, one stabbing with a knife at his abdomen, the other sweeping with a club at his lower body.

The strong man did not retreat but advanced, stepping forward, his left hand seized the wrist holding the knife, and his right fist hammered into the chest of the man wielding the club—

Bang! Bang!

Two dull thuds sounded, and the two men flew backward simultaneously, rolling several times on the ground, clutching their chests and wailing incessantly.

The remaining four henchmen froze.

The strong man gave them a grin and beckoned with his hand.

"Come on, keep going."

Those four looked at each other, gritted their teeth, and charged again.

This time the strong man couldn't even be bothered to raise his hand.

The first man rushed up; the strong man kicked out, sending him flying like a cannonball, smashing into the wall at the alley mouth, sliding down, leaving a human-shaped crack in the wall.

The second man's legs went weak from fright, he turned to run, but the strong man seized his collar and tossed him aside into the roadside sewage ditch.

The third and fourth men dropped to their knees on the spot, threw their clubs to the ground, and kowtowed like pounding garlic.

"Spare us, sir! Spare us, sir!"

The strong man looked down at them, curled his lip.

"Boring."

He lifted his gaze, which fell upon the three nobles hiding in the back, trembling with fear.

Zhao Wen's face turned ashen, his legs went weak, and he instinctively stepped back.

The strong man strode over.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Zhao Wen backed into the corner, with nowhere left to retreat.

The strong man stood before him, looking down from above.

Zhao Wen tilted his head back, staring at that face inches away, a gurgling sound rose from his throat, but he couldn't utter a word.

The strong man reached out his hand.

Zhao Wen closed his eyes, trembling all over.

The strong man patted his cheek.

The force wasn't heavy, yet it made Zhao Wen's cheeks slap loudly.

"Today," the strong man said in a low voice, "leave this place."

Zhao Wen opened his eyes, looking at him blankly.

The strong man said, word by word:

"Otherwise, every time I see you, I'll beat you."

Having said that, he withdrew his hand, turned and walked away; his physique returned to normal, evidently he had ceased the Body Refining Technique.

After two steps, he suddenly stopped, lowered his head and looked at himself.

His official robe had long been blasted away; now he revealed his naked body, which stood out starkly in the moonlight.

He thought for a moment, then turned and walked back.

Zhao Wen had just relaxed when he saw the man return, his breath caught again, and he nearly fainted.

The strong man approached him, sizing him up from head to toe.

Zhao Wen's build was about the same as his.

Without a word, the strong man grabbed Zhao Wen's collar and yanked it upward—

The valuable silk robe was stripped from Zhao Wen's body.

Zhao Wen stood bare-chested in the cold wind, shivering, at a loss.

"What are you staring at? Take off your pants too."

"Uh, okay."

The strong man slipped Zhao Wen's clothes onto himself, fastened the belt, glanced down, and nodded in satisfaction.

The size fit just right.

He turned around, strode over to Li Er, and grinned.

"Bo Yang, let's continue, continue."

Li Er looked at him, then glanced at the henchmen sprawled on the ground over there, and at Zhao Wen, bare-chested and shivering, and shook his head helplessly.

"Let's go."

He patted the green ox's head, and the green ox set off, continuing forward.

The group of historians, as if waking from a dream, hurried to follow.

"Impressive, Lao An!"

"You hid that Body Refining Technique deep enough!"

"I always thought you were so meek, never expected you to be so capable!"

The burly man called "Lao An," pleased, stroked his long beard and chuckled.

"Just a trifle, just a trifle."

The group chatted and laughed, gradually walking away.

In the alley.

Zhao Wen, naked, stood in the cold wind, his face ashen.

The several thugs gritted their teeth and scrambled up from the ground, helping each other; some covered their faces, some clutched their chests, some crawled out of the foul gutter, drenched and exuding a foul odor.

Two other aristocratic youths also gathered, one clutching his kicked stomach, the other rubbing his twisted wrist, their faces full of resentment and unwillingness.

"Qing Cai," one of them began, hoarse, "What shall we do next?"

Zhao Wen bit his teeth, staring intently at the direction where Li Er and the others disappeared, his eyes brimming with fury.

In those eyes lay humiliation, anger, unwillingness, and a hint of madness.

He turned around.

"Return, return to the Jin State, I want to go back to the Zhao clan!" he said word by word, "Summon someone!"

Then he addressed his own retinue:

"Also, give me my clothes."

Bo Residence.

In the rear courtyard's Nuan ge, incense still curled.

Bo Qing reclined diagonally on the soft couch, while two maidservants massaged his shoulders.

Footsteps sounded.

The black‑clad subordinate hurried in, kneeling on one knee.

"Young master."

Bo Qing opened his eyes and looked at him.

"How is it?"

The subordinate lifted his head, his expression somewhat odd.

"Young master, the matter… encountered a mishap."

"Oh?" Bo Qing sat up, "Tell me."

The subordinate swallowed and began to report:

"Zhao Wen and a few others brought eight thugs to block him in the alley near Li Er's residence. Everything went smoothly at first, but…"

"But what?"

"But Li Er had a group of historians behind him."

Bo Qing frowned.

"Historians? The Shou Cang Shi scholars?"

"Yes." The subordinate nodded, "Originally Zhao Wen didn't take them seriously, but among those historians, there was one person…"

He paused.

"There is a person who knows the Body Refining Technique."

Bo Qing was stunned.

"Body Refining Technique? A scholar?"

"Yes." The subordinate continued, "When that person acted, the eight thugs, in less than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, were all down."

"Zhao Wen and his companions were also taught a lesson and had their clothes stripped."

Bo Qing's brow furrowed even tighter.

"What about Li Er?"

"Li Er…" the subordinate's expression grew stranger, "From start to finish, he never acted, just rode that ox, watching from the side."

Bo Qing was silent for a long time.

Then he waved his hand.

"Understood, go down."

The subordinate stood up and stepped out.

In the Nuan ge, only Bo Qing and the two maidservants remained.

Bo Qing leaned on the couch, his fingers lightly tapping his knee, his gaze flickering.

After a while, he sneered.

"Interesting."

"Since that's the case, then.................."

"Then how will you act?!"