THUD!
A dull thud echoed.
Before the burly young man could even get near Gu Zheng, Sun Zhenyao shot out a kick, sending him flying. The cleaver flew from the young man's grasp and landed in the bushes.
'Idiot! How dare he?'
Sun Zhenyao cursed inwardly, glaring at the portly middle-aged man. "Wang Yaocai," he roared, "goading your simple-minded subordinate into attacking an official is a capital offense! Do you have a death wish?"
"What capital offense?"
The portly middle-aged man looked bewildered and protested, "Did I goad anyone? I was just asking him what to do about people showing up at our door looking for..."
SHING!
A line of light from the blade cut through the air, crossing a distance of ten paces to graze the portly middle-aged man's neck.
The portly middle-aged man's words stopped abruptly.
