Chapter Thirty-One: A Setup?

“Old man! Get up and get lost while you still can! Don’t you dare play dead here! Do you even know whose carriage you’ve thrown yourself in front of? Of all the places to fake an accident, you try it with the Tian family?”

At the center of the crowd stood a lavishly decorated carriage drawn by two horses. In front of the horses, a timid coachman cowered while a household servant, flanked by several fierce-looking accomplices, jabbed his finger at an old man lying motionless on the ground. Despite their bluster, none dared approach the old man directly, instead spreading out in a half-moon to shield the carriage from the gathering crowd.

“How can they talk like that?” someone exclaimed. “They’ve broken the old man’s leg, and they still speak so harshly!”

“Who does that fellow think he is, calling himself a man of the Tian family? Does he think he can bully common folk just because of Tian’s power?”

“Exactly! Who else could it be? There’s only one Tian family in all of Guangzhou—the Maritime Commissioner, Lord Tian!”

“That’s right! It’s obvious! They’re just a pack of dogs from the Commissioner’s household!”

A few bold souls whispered among themselves, but their voices were loud enough for the Tian family servants to hear. The short, sharp-eyed servant at the forefront flew into a rage, glaring fiercely and brandishing his horsewhip at the murmuring townsfolk.

“Listen here! Don’t go looking for trouble! If this old man doesn’t want to live, do you all feel the same? Dare to fake an accident in front of me—if I don’t break this old man’s leg today—!”

“Is there no law left? In broad daylight, you injure someone and threaten to break an old man’s leg?”

A scholarly-looking young man stepped forward from the crowd, standing tall and resolute, his voice ringing out in challenge. Cheers and shouts of support rose up behind him.

“Well said! Even if you’re from the Tian family, does that mean you can just go around hurting people?”

“So what if you’re Tian family? Aren’t you people like everyone else? Even the emperor is subject to the law!”

“Everyone, surround them! Let’s wait for the authorities to arrive and bring these people to justice! Let them see if there is still law in Guangzhou!”

The outcry only fueled the servant’s fury. But before he could explode again, the scholarly youth, emboldened by the support behind him, took another step forward, sneering at the short servant.

“Hmph! Even if you are the Tian family, you’re nothing but a pack of watchdogs! In this city, you’re just rats scurrying across the street, hated by all! Today, you’ll see there’s still justice in Guangzhou! Everyone here saw what happened—you can’t deny it! Before the law, all are equal! You just wait—”

“To hell with your law! I’ll show you what the law is!” The servant finally lost all control. Without caring for the consequences, he kicked the scholar hard in the chest, his eyes blazing with murderous fury. He raised his whip and called to his companions, “Boys! Let’s show these scammers what the law really means!”

“They’re beating people! Help! The Tian family is attacking!”

As soon as the Tian servants moved, the crowd scattered in terror, all bravado forgotten. No one spared a glance for the scholar now being beaten on the ground, each afraid of becoming the next target.

To let the short servant vent his rage, the rest of his gang merely menaced the crowd, waving their fists and keeping the onlookers at bay, so the leader could enjoy his violence undisturbed.

“Law? You want to talk about law now?” Each kick from the servant came with a gasping breath, as if he meant to pour all his strength into every blow, intent on beating the scholar to death. He jabbed a finger at the old man, justifying himself, “This old wretch is a scammer! And you must be his accomplice! Today, I’ll beat you all to death for daring to challenge us! Try your scam now, go on!”

But the truth was plain to see. The old man lay in a cold sweat, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle—anyone could see it was broken. Yet the servant still shamelessly accused him of faking it.

The crowd, cowed by the servant’s arrogance, dared not intervene, unwilling to bring disaster upon themselves. Not after witnessing his violence.

“Bang!”

Suddenly, as the short servant was absorbed in his assault, a heavy force struck him. Before he even felt pain, he was airborne, then agony exploded in his chest as the sound of breaking bones filled his ears.

“Justice means dealing with scum like you!” Ding Li, who had just arrived, needed only a glance at the injured old man to understand what had happened. Without hesitation, he leaped forward and kicked the servant flying, answering the question that had obsessed the bully.

“Who are you? Another one of those scammers?” The other servants realized too late what had happened—their companion lay groaning and unconscious. They eyed Ding Li warily, trying to surround him while hastily accusing him.

“I’m the one who’ll teach you the meaning of justice!” Ding Li faced their encirclement without fear. After confirming the scholar was not gravely hurt, he cracked his knuckles and strode forward.

“Get him!” The Tian servants, emboldened by numbers, exchanged glances and charged, one even drawing a dagger from his belt, waiting for a chance to strike from behind.

“Thugs who prey on the weak!” Ding Li, seeing two in front and one to the left attack together, did not retreat. His left foot shot out, catching the leftmost man before his punch could even land, sending him sprawling. Ding Li’s right hand shot out like lightning, seizing another’s wrist, and with a backward step, he pulled the man into his own embrace—just as the third servant’s fist crashed into his comrade’s eye, leaving a purple bruise.

Before the man in his grasp could cry out, Ding Li’s left fist hammered into his back, forcing a scream as the man fell forward into his friend. Ding Li followed, grabbing the bruised man from behind, and with a knee to the back of his leg, brought him down a notch.

The companion facing Ding Li froze at the sight of his steely face, looking as though he’d seen a ghost in broad daylight.

“Thump!” Without hesitation, Ding Li punched him squarely in the face, leaving a matching bruise. “That’s for your friend!” he sneered.

“What a pack of mongrels!” Saeed joined in, taking the opportunity to knock the remaining two servants to the ground. He shot them a contemptuous glance and scoffed, “Brother Li calling you dogs is an insult to dogs! At best, you’re street rats!”

“Die!” The last servant, who had been biding his time, lunged with the dagger at Saeed’s side.

But as his eyes lit up with excitement, his outstretched arm seemed to hit an immovable wall, making not the least advance. Glancing up in confusion, terror twisted his face, and his teeth clattered in fear.

“Crack!”

A sharp, unmistakable snap echoed as the attacker’s wrist went limp, the dagger clattering uselessly to the ground. The cold gleam of its blade was gone.

“Ahhh!” The pain of his broken wrist made the would-be assassin howl, but Ding Li’s hand chopped down on his neck, silencing him mid-scream as he collapsed, eyes rolling back.

“Leave money for the old man’s medicine—and get out!” Ding Li swept his gaze over the remaining servants, a lethal chill in his eyes that made them feel as if death itself stood before them.

“Yes, yes, right away…” Lucky to have escaped broken bones, the other servants nodded frantically, their teeth chattering as they fumbled through their belongings, piling everything they owned beside the injured old man. They stole nervous glances at Ding Li while edging backwards.

“Go!” Ding Li didn’t even bother to look at them, his gaze fixed instead on the trembling coachman. He advanced, step by step.

“M-master! Please! It wasn’t me, it really wasn’t me!” The coachman, already shaken, was now paralyzed with fear as Ding Li’s attention turned to him. When he realized what fate had befallen his colleagues, he lost all control, a warm wetness spreading down his legs.

“Useless!” Ding Li stopped, frowning in disgust. “You ran your carriage into an old man and you say it’s not your fault? Kneel! Apologize, leave money for medicine—and get lost!”

The coachman’s legs buckled at once, and he dropped to his knees, kowtowing first to Ding Li and then to the injured old man, all the while pulling out what money he had and babbling his thanks.

“Brat! Leave your name if you have the guts! We’ll settle this with you later!” the servants, now at a safe distance, shouted threats back at Ding Li.

Saeed made to pursue them, but Ding Li stopped him with a raised hand. He paused, then lifted his head and replied loudly:

“Nanhai Gang—Ding Li!”