Chapter 121: The Wind Follows the Tiger

The five young men followed closely behind the man, their expressions obsequious. The man followed their pointing fingers and turned his gaze toward Zhang Xiaofan.

"It's over; they've brought reinforcements." Xia Shihan covered her heart with both hands, appearing terrified. In reality, she felt not a shred of fear, but rather a sense of anticipation. If she remembered correctly, the man leading the group was none other than Feng Conghu, the "Battle Maniac" of the North District’s Feng family.

"Why don't you run? These reinforcements look pretty formidable," Xia Shihan suggested.

"Run? Are you joking? Do I look like the type to run?" Zhang Xiaofan replied indifferently, standing his ground with a calm expression.

Before long, Wang Hao and his group reached them. Wang Hao looked arrogant, glaring at Zhang Xiaofan with a vicious expression that seemed to say, "Kid, I've come for revenge."

"So, you're the one who beat up my men?" The man, standing six feet tall, looked at Zhang Xiaofan and spoke coolly. It had to be said that his tone and demeanor were remarkably similar to Zhang Xiaofan’s own.

Zhang Xiaofan smiled. "That's right. What of it?"

Feng Conghu was taken aback. He hadn't expected someone to remain so composed in his presence, let alone speak with such disdain. He realized that this kid probably wasn't from the capital and didn't know who he was, which made the reaction somewhat understandable.

Feng Conghu chuckled. "Nothing much. I'm just here to settle the score. In this part of town, very few people dare to challenge the authority of Feng Conghu."

"Is that so? Then I suppose there's one more person today?" Zhang Xiaofan raised an eyebrow and said calmly, "Are you coming at me alone, or are you all going to attack at once?"

Zhang Xiaofan knew that more talk was useless; if it was a fight they wanted, then so be it. He knew of the North District’s Feng family from his previous visits to the capital; they were a powerful and influential clan. The capital was different from Jinghai; each of the four districts, along with the central district, held powerful families with significant strength. But even if the Feng family were masters of the North District, so what? They were here to step on him—did they expect him to kneel and apologize? Hardly.

Zhang Xiaofan’s words stunned Feng Conghu. Since he had made a name for himself, it had been a long time since anyone dared to speak to him like that. This person was truly arrogant—even more so than Wang Hao had described. His dignity had been challenged again, and Feng Conghu was furious.

Xia Shihan watched Zhang Xiaofan in astonishment. *This guy is truly wild… does he even know who is standing across from him?* The lackeys following Feng Conghu were equally incensed.

"Young Master Feng, why should you bother with this insolent outsider? Let me handle him." Seeing Feng Conghu's anger, a man with a red shoe tattooed on his neck stepped forward. His real name was Li Ao, but after joining Feng Conghu, he renamed himself Feng Ao. He was Feng Conghu’s top fighter, nicknamed "The Scorpion." In terms of combat prowess, he was undeniably a formidable fighter in the North District.

Feng Conghu remained silent, which was as good as giving his consent. The Scorpion’s ability was decent; in his eyes, it should be enough to deal with this youth.

"You're sending a stray cat or dog to handle me?" Zhang Xiaofan looked at The Scorpion and smiled with utter contempt.

This comment only fueled the rage of Feng Conghu’s group. What kind of bizarre person were they dealing with today?

"You're courting death..."

Enraged, The Scorpion lunged forward instantly. He kicked off the ground and launched a powerful, lightning-fast strike toward Zhang Xiaofan. It was clear he was obsessed with physical conditioning, or he wouldn't possess such explosive power.

However, in Zhang Xiaofan's eyes, it was not enough to even warrant a flicker of serious effort. Zhang Xiaofan had a principle: he would not use his cultivation power against those who were not martial practitioners. In that split second, Zhang Xiaofan unleashed a kick of his own.

*Thwack!*

His foot landed precisely on the sole of The Scorpion's foot. The Scorpion’s body was sent flying backward, slamming into a camphor tree by the roadside. Upon landing, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

The Scorpion's eyes filled with shock. He couldn't believe that as one of Feng Conghu’s top fighters, he had been defeated in a single exchange. *What immense power in that kick! How could someone so young and thin possess such strength? Could he be a martial arts master like Young Master Feng?*

Feng Conghu was also stunned; he could not believe The Scorpion had been crippled in one move.

"I told you you were just a stray cat or dog, didn't I?" Zhang Xiaofan shrugged with a smile, though to Feng Conghu and his men, that smile was the height of arrogance.

"You... are you a martial practitioner?"

Although The Scorpion had lost all face, he wouldn't feel so humiliated if his opponent were truly a martial practitioner. Once one reached that level, it was no longer a fight between equals. The reason The Scorpion respected Feng Conghu was precisely because he was a martial practitioner—what they called a "martial arts master."

"Do you think I need the strength of a martial practitioner to deal with you? Your power is too weak, and your physical condition is too poor. That is all," Zhang Xiaofan said calmly.

These flat words made The Scorpion spit out another mouthful of blood. He had started training at age six and had been obsessed with combat since his teens. It was no exaggeration to say he could fight dozens of strong men alone. He had always been confident in his strength and physical conditioning. But now, he was being dismissed as utterly worthless. And indeed, the fact that he had been taken out in one kick left him with nothing to say.

Even though Zhang Xiaofan didn't explicitly admit to being a martial practitioner, Feng Conghu could see it clearly. If he wasn't, how could he have crippled The Scorpion so easily?

"Heh... I really didn't expect you to be a martial practitioner. Truly, a fierce dragon wouldn't cross the river unless it was strong. But as for running wild on my turf, we shall see if you have the qualifications..." Feng Conghu chuckled. Despite realizing Zhang Xiaofan’s nature, the battle maniac showed no intention of backing down, for he, too, was a martial practitioner.

"Blah, blah, blah... just come at me. If you lack confidence, you can all attack together. Don't worry, I won't mock you; there is strength in numbers, after all," Zhang Xiaofan said with a faint smile.

Xia Shihan watched Zhang Xiaofan with great interest. *This guy... isn't he being a bit too arrogant? But his strength is real. Could he really be a martial arts master?*

Feng Conghu no longer spoke of arrogance, for he realized this man had the capital to be arrogant. He didn't waste another word, instead adopting the Tiger Stance of the Five Elements Fist. It was stylized and intentional; at a single glance, Zhang Xiaofan knew that Feng Conghu had achieved a certain level of mastery in the art.

*Tiger Fist, is it?*

Zhang Xiaofan smiled, then curled his fingers into claws. It was the Dragon Claw Hand—one of the seventy-two legendary techniques of the Shaolin Temple.

In that instant, Feng Conghu’s expression shifted. He had learned his Tiger Fist by chance, and it was a true, ancient martial art. Seeing Zhang Xiaofan’s movements, he immediately realized that Zhang Xiaofan was employing the ancient Dragon Claw Hand. But now, Feng Conghu had no other thoughts—only the need to fight!

Feng Conghu moved, truly resembling a ferocious tiger. His movements were swift and savage, full of pouncing force—steady, agile, and vicious. His punch came like a tiger descending from the mountains, the wind whistling with the force of his strike. His technique contained endless follow-up moves; Feng Conghu was indeed no ordinary fighter.

Judging solely by his technique, the man was impressive, but in terms of cultivation, Feng Conghu was merely at the late stage of the Mortal Realm. Zhang Xiaofan didn't want to bully him, so he kept his own power suppressed to the same late Mortal stage.

Zhang Xiaofan met him head-on. Feng Conghu's attacks grew increasingly fierce, like a tempest, accompanied by the faint sound of a tiger’s roar! The young men and Feng Conghu’s lackeys cheered him on, secretly thinking that under the Young Master’s fists, their opponent would soon be crushed into the dirt.