Chapter Three: Bullying

To establish authority—in Qin Cheng’s previous life, after four grueling years in the underground fighting pits and more than a decade entangled in the criminal underworld—this was a notion as familiar as breathing. Surrounded by strangers, Qin Cheng understood all too well the importance of asserting his dominance.

Let this, my very first battle in this world, become the foundation of my authority, Qin Cheng thought to himself.

Though he had yet to fathom how he’d come to this era or what exactly his current predicament was, none of that prevented him from focusing on resolving the immediate trouble at hand.

As Dong Chu lunged closer, Qin Cheng, whose body had already recovered somewhat, stepped sharply forward just before Dong Chu’s heavy kick could land, planting his right foot on the outside of Dong Chu’s attacking leg. He crouched like a panther, coiling his powerful muscles, and unleashed a lightning-fast punch to Dong Chu’s abdomen.

A resounding thud signaled the impact of fist on flesh.

Counterattack!

Do not move unless your enemy moves; move first when the enemy intends to strike!

Qin Cheng’s unexpected blow not only disrupted Dong Chu’s attack but also struck at the precise moment when Dong Chu’s defenses were at their weakest, inflicting a brutal wound. For when one attacks, one’s own defense is at its lowest.

Dong Chu had no time to react; he didn’t even see how Qin Cheng moved. All he felt was a sharp pain in his gut, and with a muffled groan, he staggered helplessly backward.

Seizing the moment, Qin Cheng advanced in a sliding step, positioning himself at Dong Chu’s right side. At this critical instant, Dong Chu displayed his skill as a squad leader; though unable to halt his retreat, he knew well the peril of allowing Qin Cheng to close in. Any surprise at Qin Cheng’s uncharacteristic move vanished from his mind, replaced only by the imperative to win the fight. His left fist snapped out, clean and decisive, swinging toward the approaching Qin Cheng.

As Dong Chu’s punch was about to land on Qin Cheng’s head, Qin Cheng’s left hand shot up, blocking the blow at the final moment. Then, twisting his waist with lightning speed, he hammered his right elbow into Dong Chu’s jaw.

Another heavy thud—this time bone against bone.

A cry of pain escaped Dong Chu as, already off-balance, the force of the elbow sent him flying half a dozen feet before crashing heavily to the ground.

Such was the power of a single elbow.

Still lost in confusion, Dong Chu could never have imagined that this unremarkable soldier before him was no longer the weakling he used to dominate. His gut and jaw throbbed with agony, blood trickled from his lips, and his mind faded into a daze. That devastating elbow, with which Qin Cheng had KO’d countless opponents in his former life, once again rendered his adversary helpless.

Just three strikes, and the battle was over—without suspense.

The abdomen and the jaw: two of the most vulnerable points on the human body. With his wealth of fighting experience and formidable skills, Qin Cheng had thoroughly bested Dong Chu.

Struggling up from the ground, Wu Daliang and the two other sentries stared wide-eyed, mouths agape—enough to fit an egg inside—gaping at Qin Cheng, who walked nonchalantly toward the fallen Dong Chu. For a moment, they couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired.

Good heavens! What did I just witness? This “weakling,” Qin Cheng, had taken down their squad leader—the man renowned as the best hand-to-hand fighter in the entire garrison—in just two moves, leaving him utterly defenseless? No! The three soldiers shook their heads in disbelief, feeling as though their world had been turned upside down.

Wasn’t this Qin Cheng always the one who endured Dong Chu’s bullying with silent submission, never daring to even show a hint of displeasure? What happened today? Had the boy been possessed by a spirit? And when did he become so formidable?

At last, Wu Daliang pinched the thigh of the soldier next to him. The man yelped in pain, and only then did Wu Daliang mutter, “I’m not dreaming. Damn it, this is real!” He paid no heed to the aggrieved look in his comrade’s eyes.

Qin Cheng, meanwhile, ignored the reactions of the three sentries. This was precisely the effect he wanted.

His years of training in military close combat, Jeet Kune Do, and Muay Thai—his true power far exceeded what he’d just shown.

Crouching beside Dong Chu, Qin Cheng seized him by the collar and hauled his upper body up, bringing their faces close.

He controlled his strength perfectly—his elbow had rendered Dong Chu temporarily helpless but had not knocked him fully unconscious.

“Dong Chu?” Qin Cheng asked, his tone slightly questioning.

“What?” Dong Chu, still seeing stars, could only mumble in response.

“Dong Chu?” Qin Cheng repeated, more forcefully.

“My name isn’t for the likes of you…” Dong Chu finally realized Qin Cheng was calling him and, out of habit, grew angry and tried to curse. He got only halfway through before a sharp slap rang out and fire blazed on his cheek, cutting his words short. Stunned, he finally began to regain his senses. Immediately realizing what had happened, he roared, “Qin Cheng, are you mad? You dare hit me?! I’m your—”

Another crisp slap landed, evening out the pain on both sides of his face. Dong Chu had meant to declare his authority as squad leader, to scold Qin Cheng for insubordination, but the slap knocked the fight out of him. Looking into Qin Cheng’s calm eyes, he couldn’t help but recall being sent flying only moments before. Suddenly, Dong Chu realized Qin Cheng was no longer the man he used to be.

Nor was Dong Chu alone in this realization. Wu Daliang and the others now stared at Qin Cheng as if he’d become a monster, especially as he delivered those slaps with such nonchalance. Each strike made their own hearts skip a beat.

This was simply too much to take in!

“Dong Chu?” Qin Cheng asked again, his tone light and patient.

“Uh?” Dong Chu, now gradually regaining his senses, felt an unfamiliar and terrifying aura emanate from Qin Cheng, leaving him uncertain of what to do.

Another crisp slap landed on his face. This time, Dong Chu felt not anger but fear, staring blankly at Qin Cheng, at a loss.

“Dong Chu?” Qin Cheng asked, unhurriedly.

“Yes,” Dong Chu responded at once. Now, looking at Qin Cheng’s effortless demeanor, he felt terribly awkward and only wanted to escape from this unnerving man. If he couldn’t leave, at least he hoped the slapping would stop—after all, his three subordinates were standing right there. He’d never been more humiliated.

“Very good.” Qin Cheng finally allowed a faint smile. Seeing that, Dong Chu felt a wave of relief—until Qin Cheng’s next question choked the breath in his throat: “Am I a deserter?”

“What?” Dong Chu blinked, unable to process the abrupt change in topic.

Qin Cheng, evidently resolved, delivered another slap without hesitation. Strangely, the humiliation that would once have driven Dong Chu to violence now only filled him with dread. There was an inexplicable, bone-deep wariness.

“Am I a deserter?”

“No, you’re not!” Dong Chu, finally coming to his senses, shouted his answer.

“Very good.” Qin Cheng’s smile grew even brighter, so much so that Dong Chu, nearly on edge himself, forced a nervous smile in response. But Qin Cheng was not yet finished. Glancing at the lightning-struck tree nearby, he continued, “When lightning struck that tree, I happened to be sheltering from the rain beneath it. That’s why I was knocked unconscious for so long—right?”

“Uh—yes! Yes!” Dong Chu, now well-trained, no longer cared whether he understood the question; he answered affirmatively first, lest he be slapped again. Understanding could come later—the slap waited for no one.

“You’re clever,” Qin Cheng “praised” him, still smiling. Dong Chu, oddly flattered, scratched his head in embarrassment, like a child praised by his elders. Qin Cheng went on, “Since you know everything, you’ll testify for me when we get back, won’t you?”

“Yes! Yes!” Dong Chu replied quickly. But as he saw Qin Cheng’s sly smile, a sense of dread crept into his heart.

“Dong Chu?”

“Hmm? Yes!”

“When we return to camp, you won’t betray me, will you?” Qin Cheng’s smile was even more charming.

“Yes, yes! …No, no, absolutely not!” Dong Chu declared with conviction, though inwardly he was in agony. Staring into Qin Cheng’s smiling face, for the first time, Dong Chu felt on the verge of collapse—a silent, bitter despair with no outlet.

“Excellent!” Qin Cheng finally released Dong Chu, stood up, and swept his gaze over the other three soldiers, saying lightly, “Our squad leader is wise. He’s investigated thoroughly and will clear my name, proving I’m not a deserter. You all saw it, didn’t you?”

“Uh?” Wu Daliang and the others, still in shock and confusion, instinctively echoed, “Uh…” But as their eyes met Qin Cheng’s smiling yet menacing gaze, a chill ran down their spines. Wu Daliang was the first to recover and answered, “Yes!” The other two soldiers quickly followed suit.

“Good.” Qin Cheng’s smile shone all the brighter in the sunlight as he swept his eyes over the four men. “We’re all in the same squad. We should unite under our squad leader—no infighting, agreed?”

“Yes, yes!” they all chorused, hearts pounding. Though not all of them were especially clever, Qin Cheng’s meaning was crystal clear: anyone who spoke out of turn back in camp would have to answer for it. As for the “under the squad leader’s leadership” part, Dong Chu was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief—at least in public, he would remain the boss, and Qin Cheng wouldn’t challenge him for the limelight. With Qin Cheng’s overwhelming strength to support his warning and Dong Chu’s own accumulated authority, Dong Chu was sure today’s events would remain a secret. For a fleeting moment, he even felt a touch of gratitude toward Qin Cheng.