Spring Chronicle of the Embroidered Uniform Guard

In the midst of a torrential downpour, a bolt of lightning, like a chain of fire, flickered briefly beneath the night sky, followed by a thunderclap that sounded as if the heavens themselves were shattering, echoing in all directions and shaking the earth.

Yang Ning opened his eyes. Once he took in his surroundings, he made an irrevocable decision—he was going to act.

If a problem could be settled with fists, he preferred not to trouble his intellect.

The scene before him was infuriating: three or four burly young men were beating a ragged, disheveled fellow. The victim lay curled on the ground, arms over his head, offering no resistance.

Yang Ning had no objection to fighting. In fact, he rather enjoyed the sensation of his fist landing on an opponent. But bullying with numbers was something he detested. Anyone who made him unhappy would find he could make them even more miserable.

“Stop!” Yang Ning shouted, his voice ringing out as he tried to assert dominance and intimidate the crowd.

But his voice fell short of the thunderous force he’d intended; it sounded weak and powerless.

Even so, it was enough to make the group pause and turn to look at him.

Only then did Yang Ning see clearly that the attackers were no cleaner than their victim. They too were unkempt, their clothes worn and filthy—each looked every bit the beggar.

“Little Mink...?” one young man with hair like a mop gawked at Yang Ning as he staggered to his feet, astonishment plain on his face.

Yang Ning felt a strange weakness in his body but set i