Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Shen Qinghou suddenly plucked the strings.

hum-

A deep sound wave exploded from the strings, like a heavy hammer slamming into Lao Zhang's chest.

The sound of ribs breaking was as crisp as snapping a pair of chopsticks. Bone fragments pierced his internal organs, and Old Zhang's body suddenly arched, gushing out mouthfuls of blood that sprayed onto Shen Qinghou's trouser leg. The warm blood clung to his skin, burning him.

His eyes widened, his pupils dilated little by little, and his hand was still raised, as if trying to grab something, before finally slamming heavily to the ground, raising a little dust.

Shen Qinghou released his foot and roared at the corpse, his voice so loud it made the walls of the alley crumble: "This is my revenge!!!"

Suddenly, a screeching sound of brakes came from the alley entrance, and the tires screeched sharply as they rubbed against the ground.

Shen Qinghou didn't need to turn around to count the footsteps—seven people, the weight of their footsteps on the concrete, and the clinking of their gun holsters.

He stood beside the corpse, his fingers still dripping blood, holding the broken zither in his arms, the broken strings stained with blood and mud.

Three security vehicles blocked the alley entrance. Seven security guards rushed in and saw the two bodies on the ground. When they saw Old Zhang's chest caved in, the squad leader's eyes instantly turned red, and his roar shook the alley: "Old Zhang!!!"

Some people drew their guns, the dark muzzles pointed at Shen Qinghou.

Some people picked up batons and riot forks, their knuckles turning white from the force.

The squad leader, gun raised, roared furiously, "Drop your weapons!!! Put your hands behind your head and crouch down!!! Or we'll shoot!!!"

Shen Qinghou looked at the gun barrels, but felt no fear.

He let them go earlier because he didn't want to kill innocent bystanders.

Now that he has killed Lao Zhang, these people will not let him go, and he has no intention of backing down.

"Get out." Shen Qinghou's voice was hoarse.

Nobody left.

The two security guards at the front rushed forward with riot forks raised, the steel forks gleaming coldly, aiming to stab him in the chest.

Shen Qinghou pressed his fingers on the broken string and plucked it sharply.

hum-

The sound waves were like an invisible wall, crashing hard into the two people.

They were thrown backward as if hit by a truck, their backs slamming against the brick wall behind them with a dull thud, and the riot forks fell to the ground with a clang.

A shot rang out.

The bullet grazed Shen Qinghou's shoulder, leaving a deep, bone-revealing gash. Blood spurted out and splashed onto his face.

Shen Qinghou howled, his whole body trembling with pain. He turned around abruptly and fired a final sonic boom towards the direction of the gunshot.

The squad leader had just fired his second shot when he felt a tremendous force slam into his right arm. The excruciating pain of shattered bones instantly spread throughout his body. He screamed, dropped his gun, and his right arm was bent at an odd angle, with white bone fragments piercing through his clothes and protruding.

"Shoot! Kill him!" someone roared.

More shots rang out, bullets whistling through the air, hitting the ground at Shen Qinghou's feet, splattering gravel and mud, and striking the walls, leaving a dense array of bullet holes.

As Shen Qinghou retreated, he frantically plucked the strings, sending out wave after wave of sound waves. The security guards who rushed up were knocked to the ground, some screaming in pain while clutching their heads, and others coughing up blood while covering their chests.

His mental energy was being rapidly depleted. His temples felt like they were being repeatedly stabbed with steel needles, the pain making his vision go black. Warm blood began to flow from his ears and drip down his chin.

I can't die here.

He hasn't sought revenge on Gu Mingyuan yet.

He hasn't made those who trampled on him pay the price yet.

Shen Qinghou roared, using the last bit of his mental strength to unleash the most powerful sound wave.

The sound waves exploded along the ground, instantly cracking the concrete. The three security guards at the front were thrown out and crashed heavily against the wall, losing consciousness.

He turned and ran, stepping on the blood and gravel on the ground, rushing towards the end of the alley.

Gunfire continued behind him, bullets followed his footsteps, hitting the wall, and flying pebbles grazed his back, cutting open bloody gashes.

At the end of the alley is a sewage river. The railings are rusted and crumbling, and the river water below is as black as ink, emitting a pungent stench.

Without the slightest hesitation, Shen Qinghou flipped over and jumped down.

The sewage was waist-deep, icy cold, like countless needles pricking his wounds.

The gunshot wound on his shoulder was soaked in sewage, and the pain almost made him cry out. He gritted his teeth and walked towards the middle of the river. The river water quickly rose above his chest and choked him, choking him with a bitter and foul smell.

Beams of flashlights swept wildly across the riverbank behind them, and someone yelled, "He jumped into the river! Chase him!"

"Go down and search! We need to find them alive or dead!"

Shen Qinghou held his breath and crawled into the culvert under the bridge.

Darkness instantly engulfed him; only the gurgling sound of sewage pouring into his ears and the frantic pounding of his own heart echoed in his ears.

He didn't know how long he had been in the water.

The current carried him downstream, his wounds turning white from being soaked. The pain nearly made him faint several times, but he bit his tongue, using the pain to force himself to stay awake.

Until the sounds from the shore grew fainter and fainter, until the sirens drifted on the wind and then slowly disappeared.

He emerged from the culvert and drifted along the riverbank towards a deserted area.

When he climbed ashore, his fingers were so weak that his nails dug into the mud on the bank, pulling himself up little by little.

He looked as if he had been pulled out of the mud, his whole body was soaked, covered in silt and blood, and he was still holding the broken zither in his arms, with water plants wrapped around the broken strings and dripping black and smelly sewage.

He lay prone in the grass, panting heavily, waves of excruciating pain surging through his chest, each breath accompanied by frothy blood.

The city lights in the distance were bright, sirens wailed, and the red and blue police lights were so bright they hurt your eyes.

He struggled to his feet, his legs trembling, his hands trembling, his whole body trembling.

The guqin in his arms was digging into his chest and it hurt, so he hugged it even tighter.

Gu Mingyuan is still alive.

The person who destroyed everything for him is still standing in the sunlight, holding his championship trophy, living in a big house, and serving as the president of the music association.

His revenge is not yet complete.

Shen Qinghou turned and darted into the roadside green belt. Thorns scratched his face, and branches snagged his clothes. He rushed forward without regard for anything else, his shoes making a sticky sound as they stepped on the rotting leaves and mud.

The city behind us receded into the distance, and the sound of sirens grew fainter.

He ventured into the dense alleys of the old town, disappearing into the deepest darkness.

The wind swept through the alleyway, carrying the chill of late autumn, making his soaked clothes cling to his body, chilling him to the bone.

He touched the photo of his mother in his pocket; the plastic wrap was wrinkled from being soaked in water, but his mother's smile was still gentle.

Mom, wait a little longer.

I will soon make all those who harmed us come down to join you.