Chapter Twenty-Seven: The King of Qi Returns Again

"Heh, you’re quite tough now, but I wonder if you’ll still be so tough in a moment," the Little Tyrant Zhou Tong narrowed his eyes, sizing up Yang Lian.

Yang Lian was tall, with a scar across his face that lent him a fierce aura—at first glance, enough to make others wary. But Zhou Tong, utterly unafraid, tried to bolster his own courage as he attempted to intimidate Yang Lian. Just an outsider, Zhou Tong thought; surely he could handle him.

Wang Hu stepped forward and barked, "Zhou Tong, everything must be done by the rules. If you act so recklessly, aren’t you afraid of getting into trouble?" Yet, knowing the truth behind the matter, his words lacked conviction and his voice was not loud.

Yang Lian, however, took his time, observing Zhou Tong closely. He saw greed in Zhou Tong’s eyes, and Li Shu cowering behind him, clearly terrified. After a moment’s thought, he guessed the gist of it, cast a contemptuous glance at Li Shu and said, "Li Shu, why are you hiding behind them? Is there something you cannot speak of?"

Li Shu shrank back, saying nothing.

"Gentlemen, it’s true that the Prosperity Inn once belonged to Li Xiongxin, but as of yesterday, he sold it to me. That means, starting yesterday, this inn bears the name Yang, not Li. Li Shu, what right do you have to take my things? And those foolish scoundrels—what right do they have to point fingers at me?" Yang Lian spoke bluntly, his gaze fixed on Zhou Tong, mocking him, though he never mentioned his name.

"Foolish scoundrels? Who do you mean?" Zhou Tong didn’t catch on at first and looked around.

Some quick-witted townsfolk stifled laughter, pointing and whispering. Those who knew that Prince Qi had once visited Yang Lian were eager to watch the drama unfold, looking on with relaxed amusement.

"Big Brother Zhou, he’s talking about you," one of his underlings whispered.

"Damn it." Zhou Tong cursed, glaring furiously at Yang Lian. "Are you talking about me?"

"Ah, aren’t you the Little Tyrant Zhou Tong? I don’t recall mentioning your name. I was speaking of foolish scoundrels," Yang Lian retorted, continuing to needle Zhou Tong. "Surely the famed Little Tyrant Zhou Tong of the capital wouldn’t consider himself a brainless fool?"

Zhou Tong’s face flushed red. He’d always believed that a strong fist was all that mattered, but Yang Lian’s sharp tongue was harder to handle than expected. He could only curse again, "Damn it."

"You little bastard, who are you calling that?" Yang Lian narrowed his eyes.

"You! You’re the little bastard," Zhou Tong shouted, not thinking at all.

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd. Zhou Tong, realizing what he’d said, blushed even more fiercely. No longer willing to spar with words, he stepped forward and shouted, "You villain, your sharp tongue can’t hide your misdeeds. The Prosperity Inn—surely you stole it from Li Xiongxin?"

Yang Lian stroked his chin and laughed, "Whether the Prosperity Inn was stolen or not, I don’t need to explain myself to a little bastard." He continued to mock, "Zhou Tong, if you’re bold enough, why not go to the Prefect of Jingzhao and accuse me?"

Zhou Tong smacked his lips. He was well known to the authorities in Jingzhao—everyone knew his arrogant ways, but his family’s connections kept him safe, so long as he didn’t go too far. To accuse someone at the prefect’s office? No one would believe him.

Seeing the crowd’s murmurs and apparent dissatisfaction with Yang Lian, Zhou Tong felt a renewed sense of confidence. Li Shu, emboldened, cried, "Yang Lian, you stole my family’s property! This enmity is irreconcilable!"

Zhou Tong was delighted—Li Shu was proving useful. He puffed out his chest and declared, "Yang Lian, did you hear that?"

"So what if I heard? You’re not the authorities, and Li Shu hasn’t reported anything. Just on his word, are you planning to seize my Prosperity Inn by force?" Yang Lian sneered.

"Hey, where did this guy come from, daring to cause trouble in the capital?" Unwilling to argue further, Zhou Tong charged forward, swinging his fist at Yang Lian.

Wang Hu stepped before Yang Lian, determined not to let him through. Two of Zhou Tong’s men joined in, and soon Wang Hu and Zhao Peng were brawling with Zhou Tong’s underlings. Their scuffle was crude, like children fighting in the mountains—punches and kicks with no skill.

Yang Lian shook his head. Wang Hu and Zhao Peng were big men, but they clearly needed some lessons. Fortunately, in this world, martial arts were nothing special—just diligent practice. He wasn’t afraid of Zhou Tong.

Zhou Tong sneered, seeing his men entangle Wang Hu and Zhao Peng, and went for Yang Lian himself. Zhou Tong had fought countless street battles and was confident he could handle Yang Lian quickly. But as soon as he swung his fist, Yang Lian raised his leg and kicked.

"Heh heh!" Zhou Tong thought Yang Lian was foolish—daring to compete with him in kicking? It was suicide! In that instant, he withdrew his fist and kicked out with his right leg.

A sharp "crack" rang out, followed by a scream. Li Shu, who had been hopeful, looked up, only for his face to turn ashen. Zhou Tong, so formidable, was defeated in a single exchange—he lay on the ground clutching his right leg, howling in agony. The wrenching cries made it clear the leg was broken.

Indeed, Zhou Tong’s leg was broken. Yang Lian had been training hard lately, always wearing sandbags tied to his legs from dawn, never removing them, hoping constant exercise would help him recover quickly. Even now, sandbags were tied to his leg.

Unaware, Zhou Tong had rashly challenged Yang Lian and suffered a bitter defeat—his leg was unmistakably broken.

"Stop your howling and find a doctor quickly. Maybe you’ll still keep your leg," Yang Lian said mildly. He’d taught Zhou Tong a lesson and didn’t want to stir up more trouble.

Zhou Tong’s underlings stopped fighting as soon as they saw him on the ground, but Wang Hu and Zhao Peng landed a few more good blows, leaving their faces bruised and swollen. When Wang Hu and Zhao Peng finally stopped, the underlings rushed to help Zhou Tong up, and the three limped off together.

Yang Lian narrowed his eyes, looking at Li Shu. With a thud, Li Shu knelt and pleaded, "Master Yang, spare me! I owed Zhou Tong money and had no choice. Please, Master Yang, have mercy!" He kowtowed repeatedly, the sound echoing painfully, even making Yang Lian wince.

"You unfilial son, gambling with borrowed money again!" From somewhere, Li Xiongxin appeared and slapped him hard.

Li Shu rolled on the ground, dirtying his clothes. Li Xiongxin, already old, soon grew tired and sat down, wailing, "How did I raise such a son?"

Yang Lian sighed, "Enough, the matter is settled. No need to stand around."

Li Xiongxin cried for a while, then stood and said, "Master Yang, it’s my fault for failing to raise my son. Please forgive me."

His words stunned the onlookers.

Yang Lian paid no mind to their reactions, waving his hand, "Old sir, get some rest. Your son seems injured—have him treated soon. I don’t want a cripple on my hands." With that, he strode back into the inn.

Li Xiongxin helped his son up and scolded, "You rebellious child, from today you’re not allowed out. Though Master Yang has bought the inn, he’s kindhearted, knows you’re literate, and plans to hire you as the bookkeeper. You’ll earn several strings of coins a month, enough for household expenses. Work hard—if you gamble again, I’ll break your legs myself."

Though Li Xiongxin’s voice wasn’t loud, everyone nearby heard clearly. Those who knew Li Shu’s gambling habits began to gossip—it seemed Li Shu’s addiction had forced Li Xiongxin to sell the Prosperity Inn. The new owner, Yang Lian, was generous, hiring Li Shu to work at the inn for a good wage each month—a truly good man.

Yang Lian returned to his room, just sipping his tea when Wang Hu rushed in, out of breath. "Master—master, someone’s here!"

Yang Lian’s brows shot up. Someone else? Do they think I’m easy to bully? He suppressed his anger and asked, "Who’s causing trouble outside now?"

Wang Hu replied, "Master, it’s not trouble, but—"

Before he could finish, the bold voice of Prince Qi, Li Jingsui, rang out, "Ha ha! Who dares to cause trouble at Hero Yang’s place?"

Yang Lian quickly stood and bowed, "So it’s Prince Qi—please forgive me for not welcoming you sooner."

Prince Qi waved his hand, "No need for formalities." Taking the seat of honor, Xiao Hei hurriedly brought tea. Prince Qi sipped and asked, "I heard about what happened just now. What’s the story?"

Yang Lian smiled, "Thank you for your concern, Prince Qi. It was just a minor matter."

"How could it be minor? I heard there was fighting," Princess Huairou said, casting a worried glance at Yang Lian. Yet she remembered she couldn’t outwit Yang Lian, so others would fare even worse.

Indeed, Yang Lian smiled and said, "I hear Zhou Tong is the local bully, but he’s not much at all." He briefly recounted the events.

Though the story sounded perilous, the actual fight between Yang Lian and Zhou Tong was over in a flash, with Zhou Tong swiftly defeated. Prince Qi was puzzled—was Yang Lian really that skilled?

Princess Huairou didn’t believe it. If Yang Lian were so formidable, he wouldn’t have needed to flee with her before; he could have killed those villains outright. There would have been no need for such desperation—if not for Chen Keyan’s timely arrival, they might have died in the woods that day.

Seeing their confusion, Yang Lian chuckled, rolling up his trouser leg to reveal sandbags filled with sand and pebbles.

"These are for my training. Unexpectedly, they came in handy today," Yang Lian said with a smile.

Prince Qi and Princess Huairou realized the truth, thinking Zhou Tong’s luck had simply run out.

Xiao Hei, quick-witted, chimed in, "Master, I’ve heard Zhou Tong has relatives who are officials. You should be careful."

Yang Lian’s face changed. "Enough! It’s not your place to speak."

Xiao Hei slapped himself and hurriedly withdrew.

Before Li Jingsui could speak, Princess Huairou snorted, "What officials would aid such a villain?"

Li Jingsui looked concerned, "If there are officials involved, you’d better be on guard."

Yang Lian forced a smile, "Alas, I’m all alone in the capital, with no relatives to rely on."

Prince Qi’s expression soured, "Hero Yang, how can you say that? Am I not your friend?"