The man in his grip was initially startled, then enraged; he started to yell without taking his current situation into account. “You…”

But that was all he could utter as Zhou Zishu strengthened his hold and turned his vulgar words into hoarse cries. During the panic, he lifted his arm to hit Zhou Zishu’s chest, but it was dislocated before he could see the man made a move. There was only a wretched distorting scream heard between them.

Zhou Zishu drawled. “Answer me. Am. I. Your. Grandpa?”

The man in red asked angrily. “What do you want?”

Zhou Zishu turned his attention to him and smiled cruelly. “Just some trivial matters that need this bastard’s cooperation. Don’t poke your nose in other people’s business.”

Veins throbbed on the back of his palm, and the man convulsed a little before turning still with his eyes rolled back, not even a scream being let out. It was unclear whether he was dead or not.

Zhou Zishu loosened his grip, and the man slid to the ground almost boneless.

At the same time, two more charged towards them – one targeting the barely-managing-to-stand-firmly Zhang Chengling, one targeting Zhou Zishu with a hook in his hand that smelled of rotten meat. He didn’t bother to dodge and instead kicked at the attacker square in the chest at a mind-boggling angle. The strength from that kick made the man spat out blood while he flew backwards to conveniently hit Zhang Chengling’s sneak attacker, causing both of them to fall like bottle gourds.

Zhou Zishu frowned, picking Zhang Chengling up by the neck with distaste. He threw the boy aside like a small kitten and said impatiently, “Wait here, little nuisance, and don’t move.”

Zhang Chengling felt like his body was as light as a feather when he was picked up and thrown. His eyes widened for a brief second as he mouthed silently, “Shifu…”

Other men continued attacking Zhou Zishu while the man in red remained still.

Zhang Chengling didn’t even dare to blink at the sight in front of him. He remembered his father’s words back when he was little, that martial arts had many different paths and styles to pursue – some steady and unflinching, some incredibly sharp and impenetrable, some fast and rushed like a storm. But all of those above involved visible techniques, and the most magnificent one would have to be when one couldn’t see, sense or hear it, completely indescribable and featureless like the rain in spring at first glance – he summed it up as “quick like startled birds, making light work of the most burdensome.”

At that moment, he finally understood what it was like to be “making light work of the most burdensome.”