Chapter Forty-Five: A Fierce Struggle

On the small path by the greenbelt, a cold wind whistled, rustling the leaves overhead with a harsh sound. Evening was drawing near, and the sunset had begun to reveal its dazzling brilliance in the sky.

Tiger and his companions encircled Xiao Lin in a semi-circle, while Sun Feifei, with his three lackeys, blocked off Xiao Lin’s retreat.

Xiao Lin glanced around, smiling faintly. “You all chose your spot well. Seems you’ve put in some work—knowing there are seldom passersby on this path.”

“Tiger, don’t waste words with this punk. Let me take care of him quick, then Fei can treat us to a drink. Why talk so much in this freezing weather?” The young man with dyed blond hair cracked his knuckles, eyeing Xiao Lin like a predator sizing up prey.

“Fine. Blondie, you try him out first. The rest of you, get your weapons,” Tiger nodded.

With Tiger’s command, the blond youth took a swift step toward Xiao Lin. Seizing the moment before Xiao Lin could react, he swung his fist and landed a punch squarely on Xiao Lin’s nose. Feeling the satisfying impact, Blondie instantly retreated a step and assumed a defensive stance—one hand guarding his head, the other his stomach. Though he didn’t take Xiao Lin seriously, years of brawling had taught him to strike and then pull back, never getting tangled up, always watching for the next opening.

When Xiao Lin showed no reaction after the blow, Blondie relaxed his guard, grinning smugly. “Tiger, this kid’s a rookie. One punch and he’s out of it.”

No sooner had he finished than Xiao Lin chuckled from where he stood. “Not bad. Fast move—much better than Sun Feifei’s lot.” Wiping blood from his nose, which now trailed down to his lip, Xiao Lin’s eyes flashed with an unusual, bloodthirsty gleam. “But your strength was lacking.”

“What did you say?” Blondie exploded with rage, charging again, fists aiming straight for Xiao Lin’s eyes.

This time, Xiao Lin gave him no chance. He dodged nimbly aside, slipping behind Blondie. Seizing the moment as Blondie stumbled from his missed punch, Xiao Lin landed a solid kick to his backside. Blondie sprawled face-first into the frozen ground with a heavy thud and a howl of pain. Winter had hardened the earth, and Xiao Lin hadn’t held back—Blondie was done for. Had it been Sun Feifei or his gang, they’d likely be unconscious.

Brushing off his hands, Xiao Lin looked down at the toppled Blondie with indifference. “Nice pose. Who’s next?” As he spoke, Xiao Lin shrugged off his brown down jacket, revealing a black turtleneck sweater, and draped the coat over his bicycle. He didn’t want it dirtied; it would be hard to explain to his grandmother at home.

Tiger’s face darkened as he glanced at Blondie, still writhing on the ground, and heard Xiao Lin’s taunt. “You’re arrogant, kid. Get him, boys—cripple him for me!”

Tiger’s two remaining henchmen had been itching for action. Their companion had just been knocked down, and this brat was still mouthing off—did he think they were made of clay? With their boss’s order, Chengzi drew a twenty-centimeter watermelon knife from his sleeve and lunged at Xiao Lin, while the other man slipped on a knuckle-duster, flanking to form a pincer.

As Chengzi closed in, he suddenly bent his wrist, half-crouched, and slashed the knife diagonally at Xiao Lin’s thigh. The second man accelerated, aiming the knuckle-duster straight for Xiao Lin’s stomach. Their timing was perfect; no matter how Xiao Lin tried to evade, one of them would land a blow, and that would put him out of the fight.

Tiger smirked coldly. Chengzi and his partner had practiced this maneuver often—rarely did they miss. He could already picture Xiao Lin writhing and howling on the ground.

As the blade closed to within half a step, Xiao Lin gave a cold snort. He didn’t dodge; instead, he lunged forward, his right hand snapping out to seize Chengzi’s knife-wielding wrist. With a powerful squeeze, the knife clattered to the ground. In the same motion, Xiao Lin sidestepped the man with the knuckle-duster, still gripping Chengzi’s wrist. Then, with a sharp thrust, his right knee crashed into Chengzi’s face—a faint crack sounded—and with a final swing, Xiao Lin flung Chengzi aside.

Chengzi felt an iron grip on his wrist; his hand went limp, and the knife fell. Before he could straighten up, agony exploded across his face, forcing a howl from his lips. Blood and mucus smeared his cheek, and as he raised a hand to check, he found himself airborne. Dizziness washed over him, his vision went black, and he passed out with a groan.

“Chengzi!” shouted the man Xiao Lin had dodged, alarmed. He swung at Xiao Lin’s face, but before he could close in, Xiao Lin delivered a clean, powerful kick to his stomach. With a scream, the man flew a full meter before crashing to the ground. He tried to rise, swaying, but Xiao Lin gave him no chance—one swift step, then a sharp right hook to the temple. This time, he fell without a sound, unconscious.

From the start of Chengzi and his partner’s attack to its end, barely twenty seconds had passed. The entire exchange was crisp and decisive.

With both men down, Xiao Lin turned, smiling amiably at Tiger.

Tiger's eye twitched as he looked at his three fallen men, stunned. In all his years running the streets, he’d never met a student who could fight like Xiao Lin.

As for Sun Feifei and his cronies, Xiao Lin’s ferocious prowess had left their legs trembling. None dared utter a word.

“Not bad, kid. But this is where it ends,” Tiger said with a cold snort, then darted toward Xiao Lin with surprising agility for his burly frame.

Xiao Lin raised his hands in a defensive guard, one clenched in a fist, the other fingers splayed, eyes tracking Tiger’s every move. He knew Tiger would be tough, and braced himself fully.

Within seconds, Tiger reached him, swinging a massive palm at Xiao Lin’s face while the other hand protected his stomach. Xiao Lin narrowed his eyes, hands darting to catch the oncoming strike. But Tiger grinned wickedly, suddenly dropping his hand to grip Xiao Lin’s waist, fingers locking tight. Before Xiao Lin could react, Tiger’s other hand joined in, locking him in a crushing hold. With a roar, Tiger lifted Xiao Lin off the ground in a bear hug. Xiao Lin’s face turned ashen, sweat beading on his forehead as Tiger’s grip tightened mercilessly around his waist, pinning him and sapping his strength.