Chapter Sixty-Two: Is It Really That Famous?

Xiao Nan could have intervened much earlier, but he wanted to listen more, to fully understand what was going on—prevention mattered greatly to him. Once he knew the whole story, he would eliminate every threat, ensuring his sister’s safety at school from then on. He was also curious to see how the young Xiao Bei would handle the situation herself. Of course, there was a part of him that wished she would witness the malice and treachery that lurked in people’s hearts.

He watched, secure in the knowledge that everything was under his control; yet, he would never stand idly by while others bullied his own sister. The moment he saw Xiao Bei in danger, he acted in fury—after tossing a coin, he followed with a swift kick that shattered the chest of the flashy youth in the floral shirt, sending him crashing to the ground, writhing in agony.

“Brother…” Xiao Bei was deeply distressed; the moment she saw Xiao Nan, tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill.

“It’s all right now,” Xiao Nan reassured her with a gentle smile, though the coldness in his aura lingered. His right hand traced an arc—graceful as drifting clouds—and pressed backward, landing firmly on a wrist.

That wrist held a gleaming short blade.

It was Black Snake.

As Xiao Nan sent the floral-shirted youth flying, Black Snake had drawn his dagger from behind his waist, crouched low, and lunged at Xiao Nan’s back, aiming to stab him.

“A venomous serpent strikes, eh? There’s a hint of snake fist in that move.”

Xiao Nan grinned. The black-clad youth’s attack was vicious and swift, but there was no way he could deceive Xiao Nan, whose mind had already reached the “sitting in forgetfulness” realm. With heightened senses, every subtle movement was within his perception.

Black Snake’s attack was as agile as a serpent, but Xiao Nan easily intercepted it, gripping the attacker’s wrist.

It was the “seal and bar” hand technique—block, seize, and break. With a forceful squeeze, before he could even apply his joint-dislocating skill, Xiao Nan realized the wrist in his grasp had already been crushed to a pulp, bones snapping like twigs.

Well, perhaps he’d used a bit too much strength.

His refined hand-to-hand combat skills had no chance to shine.

He wasn’t disappointed. With a stable waist and steady shoulders, he delivered another kick, sending Black Snake soaring, blood spraying as he crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

The impact was considerable. Xiao Nan estimated that the opponent’s blood energy was nearing 4.0; that venomous strike had packed nearly eight hundred pounds of force.

Such a formidable thug, out here bullying a little girl?

Xiao Nan’s gaze grew even more dangerous.

A chilling killing intent locked onto the black-clad youth with triangular eyes, raising goosebumps all over his body. He cried out in pain and fear.

“Don’t kill me! We were just joking with your sister and her friends, no harm meant!”

When he heard Xiao Bei call out “Brother,” he knew this day’s trouble had grown serious. Though the newcomers wore martial arts high school uniforms and were young students, he was no fool—those cold, brutal eyes could only belong to someone who’d taken lives, and more than one.

He’d met many like this before; none were anything but ruthless.

“Cough, cough. My brother is Wu Gang from ‘Night Jasmine.’ You must know him. Leave some room for reconciliation in the future.”

The youth in the floral shirt, Wu Tie, finally regained his senses. His chest still throbbed from the kick, his head spinning, but he struggled to speak, trying to sound tough despite his fear.

It was obvious from his frightened eyes that he was bluffing.

“Wu Gang? Never heard of him. Is he famous?” Xiao Nan paused.

He genuinely didn’t know if there were any hidden powers in this neighborhood. If the opponent had strong backing, his approach would have to change, lest trouble keep coming and threaten his family.

But he doubted such small-time thugs would have any notable connections.

“Of course, he’s a martial artist. He broke through half a year ago. My brother commands dozens of loyal fighters, tough and skilled—in the Yuanjiang wilderness hunting teams, he’s well known.”

Seeing Xiao Nan’s indifferent expression, Wu Tie grew even more anxious and hastily added, “I reported to my brother before coming out today. He knows exactly what I’m doing.”

“So, a first-rank martial artist.” Xiao Nan smiled.

The smile unsettled both Wu Tie and Black Snake.

Nearby, Zhao Lei shuffled his feet backward, suddenly screamed, and bolted toward the alley's exit.

He sensed things were going wrong and tried to escape.

“Smart kid,” Xiao Nan praised, and swept his foot low across the ground.

The wooden sword that had been knocked aside earlier made a sharp whooshing sound, transforming into a black streak that caught up to the backpacked boy and pierced straight through his thigh, blood gushing.

Zhao Lei collapsed, clutching his leg, wailing and sobbing, his face streaked with tears and snot—a pitiable sight.

Xiao Nan approached and smiled, “How could I forget you? So young, yet already scheming to have someone play the hero to rescue the damsel—clever, you have potential.”

He grabbed the wooden sword’s hilt and drew it out with a hiss, wiping the blood off on Zhao Lei’s school uniform. He turned to Xiao Bei, “Xiao Bei, do you still want this sword?”

“No, it couldn't even cut that guy’s leg. It’s useless to me,” Xiao Bei replied with disdain.

She referred to her earlier attempt to strike Wu Tie’s ankle, only for her attack to be caught.

“Very well, then. You should carry a real weapon from now on,” Xiao Nan agreed—bringing a wooden sword to school wasn’t ideal.

These days, restrictions on weapons were lax; he’d even noticed some passersby carrying firearms at their waists. As long as no one openly harmed others, nobody seemed to care.

He reversed the grip and swung downward. The wooden sword stabbed straight into the cement, burying itself deep in the earth, leaving only a tiny hole—its handle nowhere in sight.

Witnessing this, Xiao Bei and Fang Luoluo stared in awe.

Wu Tie and Black Snake shrank back as much as they could; such power could only belong to a martial artist.

But was there really a martial artist student this young at Yuanjiang No. 1 High? They’d only heard of the formidable Miss Qin, and she was female—this young man didn’t resemble her at all.

Only Zhao Lei lay nearby, screaming in pain, oblivious to everything else.

“Let’s go. It’s getting dark, Mom might already be home,” Xiao Nan called.

The two girls nodded quickly, obedient for once—even Xiao Bei was unusually docile. She glanced at Zhao Lei, still crying, her eyes filled with both satisfaction and contempt.

They rounded the corner at the alley, walked several dozen steps, when Xiao Nan suddenly stopped. “That little sword behind that guy is quite nice; I’ll fetch it for Xiao Bei’s self-defense.”

He meant Wu Tie, who still had a black-sheathed short sword hanging at his waist—he hadn’t had a chance to draw it before he was sent flying.

“Then hurry, let’s go home together,” Xiao Bei said timidly, the shock finally catching up to her.

“Mm.”