Chapter Forty-Eight: Comrade, Please Wait

Outside the first floor of Xiuyuan Tower, a Red Flag sedan sped over and came to a halt in the open space beside the building, right next to the corpse of the wealthy young man who had been thrown from the upper floor.

Just as Li Yunfei kicked the man flying, two young men stepped out of the car, inspecting the body on the ground. Both wore black Zhongshan suits and sported close-cropped hair, dressed much like Chen Zhen himself, each gripping a black, sheathed Tang horizontal saber.

Hearing the collision from above, their eyes sharpened. They straightened, exchanged glances, and nodded to one another. The next moment, their legs bent slightly, and with a subtle motion, they leaped into action.

They vaulted four or five meters high, spanning more than ten meters to approach the building's exterior wall. As if in a martial arts drama, they alternately stepped up the wall, swiftly ascending.

“Look!”
“That’s qinggong, real qinggong from our Xia!”
“Quick, film it, film it!”

Excited by the scene, the crowd cried out, pulling out their phones to record. More and more people gathered.

Now that the resurgence of spiritual energy and the existence of cultivators had been publicly revealed, restrictions on concealing such abilities had loosened. Usually, practitioners and awakened individuals could not display their powers in public, to prevent chaos. But in moments like this, special circumstances took precedence and speed was the priority.

…

Upstairs.

Bang!

A dozen meters were crossed in an instant as Li Yunfei slammed his fist into the man's abdomen, causing him to vomit blood. Although power-type awakened were mighty and tough, their speed could not match Li Yunfei's, nor did they know any fighting techniques—they were little more than punching bags.

That blow nearly took his life, but Li Yunfei was not finished. He raised his left fist and delivered a swinging punch to the man's face.

Bang!

The man was flung sideways over ten meters, hitting the floor and lying motionless, finally passing out.

At that moment, the two young men dressed like Chen Zhen vaulted through the shattered window, broken by the fallen rich kid.

---

Upon seeing Li Yunfei clad in scale armor, the two men’s expressions shifted.

One moved in a flash to shield Zhang Ziying behind him. His right hand rested on the saber’s hilt, left thumb pressed against the guard, pushing the blade out of the sheath a little.

The other approached Li Yunfei, mimicking the same gesture. At the base of the Tang saber was a latch—called the “zujin”—which prevented the blade from sliding out. Because the zujin fit tightly with the sheath, drawing the saber had resistance and was not smooth. In a contest between experts, even a split second’s delay in drawing could decide the outcome.

So, to draw smoothly in a fight, martial artists using Tang or imitation Tang sabers—like the samurai swords—would push the zujin out with their thumb first.

Facing Li Yunfei, the man called out loudly, “Yingzi, what’s going on?”

Zhang Ziying hurriedly replied, “Brother Bin, don’t misunderstand. The one lying on the ground is the killer. This man defeated him.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Bin’s alertness eased. He released his hold on the saber, thumb returning the blade to its sheath, signaling that the hostility was gone.

He looked at Li Yunfei and asked, “Comrade, where are you from? Have you registered at Zixiao?”

Li Yunfei glanced at him in silence, channeling spiritual energy into his legs, then suddenly turned and dashed toward the fire escape.

“Comrade, please wait!” Seeing this, Liu Bin quickly pursued, using his own movement technique.

Zixiao did not forbid skilled individuals from existing outside its ranks, nor did every civilian expert have to join Zixiao and serve the nation. But Zixiao had to ensure that every discovered expert was recorded—this was necessary for societal stability.

This only applied to self-trained practitioners with known backgrounds. Awakened individuals without such backgrounds had to be brought under control; they were far more dangerous than those from martial families or sects.

Their power appeared suddenly, without deep lineage or tradition, and lacking the tempering of time, they could easily lose their way.

Martial arts had been declining for ages, but never vanished. True martial artists trained from childhood, understanding the dangers of arrogance and recklessness. They knew their own strength and refrained from casual violence, aware that one blow could break the law.

Modern society was no longer the era of warrior bandits ignoring the court.

Awakened individuals were different—frankly, they had no sense of restraint.

Although Liu Bin had not seen Li Yunfei fight, the marks on the wall told him all he needed to know.

---

For experts like this, Zixiao had to keep records or else society would face instability.

Yet Liu Bin realized he could not keep up with Li Yunfei’s speed. The man moved with the agility typical of an awakened individual.

Usually, when dealing with unruly agile-type awakened, they would use firearms. Liu Bin had a pistol at his waist, but since Li Yunfei showed no hostility or illegal intent, he could not draw.

Besides, judging from the traces left by his actions, Li Yunfei was not simply an agile-type awakened. Not to mention, his scale armor weighed at least sixty pounds—firearms might not even affect him.

To run so quickly in such heavy armor, he was likely someone with ancient martial heritage, not an awakened individual.

Except for those preserving old traditions, who else in modern times would wear such armor?

“Jiang Rui, block the exit downstairs. Don’t let him get away.”

“But unless he attacks you, don’t use force—just block him.”

“Understood.”

Jiang Rui, who had protected Zhang Ziying, handed her his sidearm without a word and leapt out through the window.

Zhang Ziying expertly disengaged the safety and chambered a round, then positioned herself three meters from the unconscious man.

Until her companions or the police arrived, she would guard him closely.

…

Li Yunfei, having dashed into the fire escape at a speed far beyond Liu Bin’s, quickly descended to the third floor.

At the fire door, he stowed his armor and four talisman papers into his system’s pack.

He didn’t exit, but instead turned and ran back upstairs, this time at a normal pace and stride.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the stairwell. As he reached the fifth floor, he collided head-on with Liu Bin, who was chasing him.

Li Yunfei deliberately showed a look of surprise, glanced at the Tang saber in Liu Bin’s hand, and stepped aside.

Liu Bin thought nothing of it, passing by him without pause.

But just as he passed Li Yunfei, he suddenly stopped, turned, and looked back at him.