Holding the original shares, they fought all the way to the Korean War!

One day later.

Zhou Tianyang and his group left Nanjing.

They walked along a winding dirt road on the south bank of the Yangtze River.

Ma Yong walked at the front of the group.

The soldiers behind him were spread out, with each pair spaced twenty or thirty paces apart, and from a distance they looked like several groups of pedestrians going their own way.

Liu Ping walked beside Zhou Tianyang, looking much better than he had a few days ago.

This stretch of road was much easier than when we passed through the Japanese-occupied area; there were no checkpoints or patrols.

Occasionally, you might encounter a few people hurrying along, but they all keep their heads down.

"At this speed, we'll reach Suzhou in two more days."

Liu Ping turned his head to the side, his tone carrying a rare hint of relaxation.

Zhou Tianyang nodded without saying anything.

His gaze swept across the reeds in front of him, then looked at the few small boats on the river in the distance.

This area may seem peaceful, but the calmer the place, the more vigilant we must be.

They walked for about half an hour.

The dirt road ahead narrowed, and the reed beds on both sides gradually turned into a mixed forest.

Ma Yong's pace suddenly slowed down.

Zhou Tianyang noticed this change.

His right hand fell silently to his waist.

About a hundred paces ahead, several dead tree trunks lay across the middle of the road, as if someone had deliberately piled them there.

Several figures were standing behind the tree.

Ma Yong stopped in his tracks.

The soldiers behind him also stopped at the same time; no one spoke, and no one looked around.

Zhou Tianyang quickened his pace and walked to the front of the line, standing next to Ma Yong.

His gaze swept past the few withered tree trunks and across the faces of the people behind them.

There were about twenty people, some carrying old Hanyang rifles, others holding machetes.

The leader was a middle-aged man in his forties, a big and burly man.

There is a scar on his face that runs from his left eyebrow to his jaw.

The man took two steps forward, carrying a machete in his hand.

He looked Zhou Tianyang up and down, then glanced at the people behind him.

Then he grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Hey, this time a bunch of big fish have come."

The people behind him also joined in the commotion.

Zhou Tianyang remained silent.

He stood there, calmly looking at the people.

Seeing that he remained silent, the scarred man assumed he was frightened and his smile widened.

He slung the machete over his shoulder, took another step forward, and spoke with a nonchalant arrogance.

"Brother, this road is our Green Dragon Gang's territory."

"If you want to pass through here, you have to leave something behind."

"There are so many of you, I won't ask for too much. Three silver dollars each, just enough to make a round number, one hundred dollars will do."

The bandits behind him burst into laughter.

Zhou Tianyang glanced at him, his tone calm.

"The Green Dragon Gang? I've never heard of them."

Scarface's smile froze for a moment.

He narrowed his eyes, lowered the machete from his shoulder, and his tone turned colder.

"It's okay if you haven't heard of it before, it's enough that you've heard of it today."

"If you know what's good for you, leave the money here and I'll let you pass."

"If you don't know what's good for you..."

He brandished the machete in his hand.

Zhou Tianyang didn't look at him. His gaze swept past the scarred man's shoulder and swept over the rabble behind him.

Several people were carrying guns, which looked like old guns that hadn't been used for years.

He felt confident.

More than twenty bandits, just a motley crew.

"Ma Yong".

He turned his head to the side, his voice not loud, but very clear.

"Tell the brothers to pack up their weapons."

Ma Yong was stunned for a moment, but quickly reacted and turned around to shout to the team behind him.

"Pack up your weapons! Put everything away!"

The soldiers all lowered their hands, which had been touching their waists.

To the bandits, that action looked like a surrender.

Seeing this, Scarface nodded in satisfaction, and a grin spread across his face again.

"That's more like it!"

"Those who understand the times are wise."

"You guys... huh?"

He stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence.

Because he saw the person walking at the front take off the bundle on his back.

Then he moved his wrists around, as if he were doing a warm-up exercise.

The scarred man's expression changed from smug to confused in just a few seconds.

The confusion turned into a bad premonition.

He instinctively tightened his grip on the machete.

"What are you doing?"

Zhou Tianyang did not answer him.

He simply said something to someone behind him.

"Hold your breath, I have something to ask you."

The scarred man hadn't yet realized what those words meant.

Ma Yong has already made a move.

He didn't draw his gun, or even his dagger.

He took two steps forward, spread his right hand, and slapped the nearest bandit holding a Hanyang rifle across the face, as if swatting a fly.

The man's Hanyang rifle slipped from his hand, tumbled twice in the air, and fell into the ditch by the roadside.

Then came the second one.

The bandit had just raised his machete when a hand grabbed his wrist.

He heard a very clear, crisp sound from his wrist bones; the sound wasn't loud, but it was very distinct.

Then he knelt down and rolled on the ground, clutching his wrists.

The third bandit was carrying an old-fashioned rifle. Before he could even raise the muzzle, he was kicked in the chest.

He stumbled back several steps and landed hard on his backside, unable to catch his breath for a long time.

The remaining soldiers also moved.

They didn't use guns, knives, or any other weapons.

Each person's movements were extremely concise, as if they were the most direct coping methods left after countless trials and tribulations.

Some people simply take a step forward, raise their elbow, and smash it into the other person's jaw.

Some people would grab the other person's wrist holding the knife and twist it downwards, causing the machete to fall to the ground.

Some people would simply step aside and, after the other person missed, casually slap the back of their neck.

The entire process took less than forty seconds from start to finish.

More than twenty bandits, not one of them was standing.

Some lay curled up in the middle of the road, clutching their stomachs, while others leaned against trees, covering their shoulders.

The worst off was the guy with the old-fashioned barrel; he got kicked in the chest.

He was still sitting on the ground, panting heavily, his face deathly pale.

Ma Yong stood in the middle of the road.

His face was expressionless as he glanced at the bandits lying on the ground.

Zhou Tianyang walked up to the scarred man and squatted down.

The man was lying on his side on the ground, one hand covering his cheek, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

The blow he just received was delivered by Ma Yong with a backhand strike.

Zhou Tianyang looked at him, his tone calm.

"How long have you been on this road?"

The scarred man looked at him, his lips trembling several times, as if hesitating whether or not to speak.

Zhou Tianyang didn't urge him; he just squatted there and waited.

After a few seconds, Scarface finally spoke, his voice muffled and unclear.

"Five...five months..."

"They just robbed ordinary people who were crossing the road?"

"And...and I've also robbed some small business owners..."

"Rush them and then release them?"

"Release...release them..."

"We won't release them... we're afraid it'll cause trouble..."

Scarface's voice grew softer and softer.

It's as if even I think these words sound a bit shameful.