The morning breeze drifted past Xia Tian's secluded home. Though there were a few other families scattered around the suburbs, his house stood nearly a mile away from the nearest neighbor. His father, eccentric and withdrawn, preferred peace and quiet—so he had chosen this place.
That was why, even if the people from Liusha killed him here, no one would ever know.
Xia Tian wasn't confident about facing three opponents alone. He only knew two Tai Chi forms taught by Master Fan—barely passable, not genuine at all. They might work against small-time thugs, but if he met a real master, they would be useless.
His greatest asset now was his X-ray vision—an ability that not only saw through clothing but also revealed a person's physical weak points. If he could seize the right moment, he might still have a chance.
"Xia Tian, I advise you to think carefully about where your father hid the item. Our patience is running out," the man in gray said coldly. After Xia Tian's previous escape, they had realized that if they didn't find what they were looking for soon, he would slip from their control entirely.
"I don't know what my father left behind, and I haven't found anything. What exactly do you want?" Xia Tian glared at them, defiant. Even if he did find his father's belongings, he would never hand them over. How could he casually give away what belonged to his father?
"It seems you've decided to go against Liusha," the leader in gray said grimly. "Don't think that just because you beat two of Ah San's men, you can fight us. If the three of us attack together, even Ah San would die."
Ah San's name carried great weight in Jianghai City—known across both the underworld and legitimate circles. He was the Xu family's most trusted enforcer.
His reputation wasn't mere talk—it was earned through blood and sweat. Xu Qinghua's current position as head of the Xu family was largely thanks to Ah San. The fight for that title had been ruthless—brothers turning against each other, assassinations, betrayals—but in the end, it was Xu Qinghua who prevailed.
Everyone knew it was Ah San who had cleared the path for him.
Even among Liusha's three elite killers, none could defeat Ah San one-on-one—but if they joined forces, even he would fall.
"Xia Tian, who are they?" Zeng Rou rushed out of the house, her voice trembling as she looked at the three strangers.
"Go back inside. No matter what you hear, don't come out," Xia Tian said with a reassuring smile. Seeing his calm expression, Zeng Rou reluctantly returned indoors.
Once she was gone, Xia Tian faced the three men in gray. He didn't bother using his X-ray vision to see their faces—their appearances didn't matter.
"I told you, I can't find it. If you want it so badly, come and take it yourself."
He knew this fight was unavoidable. He had to stay alert—one mistake could mean death. Judging by Ah San's attitude toward these men, they were definitely not to be underestimated.
From inside, Zeng Rou nervously peered through the window.
"So you're forcing us to act?" The gray-clad leader gave a nod.
In the next instant, one of the gray-clad men lunged forward with astonishing speed. If he had entered a track competition, he would've won easily. In a flash, he was in front of Xia Tian, his fist driving straight toward Xia Tian's face—fast, precise, ruthless.
Xia Tian instantly activated his X-ray vision, tracing the attack's trajectory. He stepped back, grabbed the man's arm, and threw him over his shoulder.
But the gray-clad man wasn't easy to deal with. He twisted mid-air and countered with a spinning kick.
Bang!
Xia Tian barely had time to react. He raised his arms to block, but the impact forced him back more than ten steps before he could steady himself.
"This kid used Tai Chi just now. He must be connected to Fan Zhuifeng. We can't let him live—if he escapes to Green Forest Villa, we'll never get him," the leader said coldly.
The man who had been thrown felt a tingling pain in his arm. His opponent's strength was monstrous. If not for the protective charm around his neck that reinforced his body, his bones would have shattered.
"It seems I underestimated these three," Xia Tian thought grimly. Although he could see their weak points, his lack of real combat skills left him helpless. He only knew how to redirect force, not inflict real damage.
The attacker didn't give him time to think—another punch came flying toward his face. Xia Tian reflexively softened the blow, but it was a feint; the man suddenly switched fists and struck from the other side.
Such tricks wouldn't fool an experienced fighter—but Xia Tian had no battle experience. If not for his X-ray vision catching the true strike at the last second, he would've been finished.
"Damn it, what should I do? Am I really going to die here?" Panic raced through Xia Tian's mind. His father had never taught him martial arts—not even basic physical training.
"No… I can't die."
An intense fighting spirit erupted within him. As the man's punch came at him again, Xia Tian didn't dodge. Instead, he met it head-on with his own fist. At that instant, a golden light surged through his body and gathered in his right arm.
Boom!
Crack!
"Ah!!" The man in gray screamed as he was sent flying. His arm hung limp—shattered by Xia Tian's blow.
"How is this possible?" the leader muttered, frowning. Even he was shocked by the sheer power Xia Tian had unleashed. His thoughts instantly turned to Xia Tian's father.
"Didn't that man swear never to involve his son in martial arts? He never trained him. Then what was that power just now?"
The leader hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled a pistol from inside his jacket. They were killers, not honorable martial artists. Since Xia Tian had escaped their control, they couldn't afford to let him live.
The memory of Xia Tian's father still filled them with dread—letting Xia Tian grow stronger was a risk they couldn't take.
A gun.
Xia Tian gave a bitter smile. He had seen such weapons before—but now, twice in two days, he was staring down a real one. He knew he couldn't dodge a bullet; even if his X-ray vision showed him the bullet's path, his body couldn't move fast enough.
"Even though killing you might make it harder to find the item, letting you live would be far worse," the leader said, aiming the gun at Xia Tian.
"So this is how I die… again?" Xia Tian sighed. He had thought his life had begun to change after gaining his strange ability. He finally had a chance to learn the truth about his father's death and his missing mother.
But now, with the cold barrel pointed at him, he felt utterly powerless once more.
Suddenly, Zeng Rou ran out and stood in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Xia Tian frowned. "Go back inside!"
"No. Even if I die, I'll die with you." Zeng Rou's voice trembled, but her eyes were firm. She couldn't imagine what life would be like without him. After finally finding a glimmer of hope, she refused to lose it again.
"Why would you do this? I'm just a poor orphaned student," Xia Tian said helplessly.
"Because somewhere along the way, I started to like you. I can't control it. I don't know what I'd become if I couldn't see you again." Tears welled in her eyes.
Xia Tian's heart softened. He remembered how Zeng Rou had once insulted him with money, but now he understood—she had only been protecting herself. Beneath her sharp words, she was vulnerable. And now, at this moment of life and death, she was standing by him. That alone erased her past mistakes.
"You still have time to flirt before you die," the gray-clad leader sneered, attaching a silencer to his pistol. Though there were no nearby houses, gunshots could still carry. "Fine then—I'll send you off together. A pair of doomed lovers."
Clang!
Was it the wind? The sand? The rustle of leaves? No—it was the sound of a body landing lightly on the ground.
A man stood there, dressed entirely in white. His attire was strange—ancient in style, bound together by a white jade belt. Under the blazing summer sun, his clothes looked unbearably hot. Even the men in gray wore short sleeves.
He had a clean, striking appearance—light brows, deep eyes—but an unreadable mystery hid behind them. In his hand was a sword.
What era was this? The twenty-first century—yet someone stood before them, wielding a blade.