It has begun—the two are ganging up on one!

Bai Haonan had always believed that his success on the field came from his mind, not brute force. The same principle applied now: though it looked as if he was charging with Isa into that chaotic group of local men, his eyes were actually flicking toward the motorcycles behind them.

Isa truly was as ferocious as she seemed; the gentle, delicate girl from last night in the hay now wielded her steel blade without a moment’s hesitation—she was really hacking at them!

She was genuinely slashing at people!

Bai Haonan was terrified!

He knew nothing about blades, of course, and didn't realize that in the eyes of certain enthusiasts, this straight-edged, pointed steel blade was more like an oversized dagger than a traditional curved saber; in fact, calling it a short sword might be more accurate.

Why are blades curved, anyway? Because that curve helps with chopping. Unless you’re wielding something as heavy as an axe, a blade can’t split mountains with force alone; it relies on that instant of contact to use the curvature of the edge to slice open a wound.

It’s like how most knife edges aren’t that dangerous if you just press your finger to them, but a gentle slide along the edge can easily cut you.

So Isa and her people must be familiar with such injuries, accustomed to fighting this way. Judging by the blade’s dull edge, she wasn’t so much killing as whipping at them with a bar of iron.

Still, several of the older men, when struck by her long blade on their thick robes, went rolling away clutching their torn coats, faces twisted in pain—more hurt than injured, too exhausted to muster the strength to fight back.

Surprised, Bai Haonan relaxed a little, and following Isa’s lead, he leapt into the fray, kicking at bodies and using his sheathed sword as a club.

As long as he didn’t stab with the blade, there was little real harm done.

But Isa had clearly gone a bit mad, shrieking and cursing in a language he couldn’t understand as she chased down those who could barely defend themselves, especially one particularly rat-faced man. When Bai Haonan tried to restrain her, she screamed and jabbed fiercely at him with the point of her blade!

Frightened, the man could only roll on the ground, and those with enough energy left to try to fight back found themselves knocked aside by Bai Haonan, who guarded Isa like a bodyguard.

At this moment, the motorcycles finally came bumping and swerving up the uneven hillside. Bai Haonan, under the guise of accident, nudged Isa aside in that direction; as he bent to kick at a man on the ground, he secretly snatched up a fallen blade—he’d been trying to kick these weapons out of reach all along.

Anyone who’s been on these barren hills knows: though they look bare, the slopes are riddled with holes and ruts, making motorcycle riding difficult. But with a bit of skill and speed, the main advantage is that you don’t tire out—any runner on foot would be worn down sooner or later. Old Chen used to bring a motorcycle to make the boys run laps on the field.

Bai Haonan wasn’t about to fall for that again. When Isa stumbled and nearly fell, he hurled the unsheathed blade at the oncoming motorcycles.

A gleaming blade spinning through the air would startle anyone. The two men riding were thrown into a panic and crashed. Bai Haonan immediately leapt forward, landing a kick on each of their heads, then grabbed Isa with his left hand, shoved her blade back into her hands and urged her breathlessly, “Go! Hurry!”

He quickly grabbed the still-running motorcycle, pushed it upright. These 125cc bikes were all made in Jiangzhou—Bai Haonan had stolen Old Chen’s to take girl athletes for rides back in sports school. Now, he mounted expertly, glancing back to see Isa still angrily kicking at the men on the ground, and shouted, “Hurry up! Or I’m leaving without you!”

That did the trick. The next instant, the wild girl was in tears, clambering onto the bike and clutching his waist tightly as Bai Haonan gunned the engine and bounced them violently down the hillside.

Actually, there were still a few motorcycles coming out of the town road; some pursuers had already dismounted to block their way, others were turning around in confusion, but Bai Haonan, having taken a wide detour, sped off ahead.

As long as they weren’t all starting from the same place on foot, Bai Haonan felt no panic. He even had time to tease Isa, “Why are you crying? You were the one beating them up! Now you look like you were the victim!”

The girl, clutching two blades crossed over Bai Haonan’s chest, sobbed, “It’s because they do this sort of thing all the time. That’s how my sister was ruined—by scum like them!”

Bai Haonan, frequently called scum himself, replied, “Alright, let’s go. You can’t stay here anymore. We’ll talk once we’re clear of this place.”

The motorcycle bounced up the dirt slope and shot onto the road like a rabbit.

Isa, however, collapsed against his back, sobbing her heart out.

If the situation weren't so dire, Bai Haonan would have turned around to comfort her.

For her to have resolved to leave this place so early in life, perhaps this seemingly picturesque, romantic town had darker shadows hidden behind its beauty.

Chased by several motorcycles and watched by countless eyes, Bai Haonan steered the bike back onto the street. He’d already noticed that the local police were only interested in collecting park entrance fees and catching fare-dodgers—no one cared about these daily street brawls. Instead of taking the outer road to escape, he dared bring the bike right back to the scene. Isa, now silent, gripped her blade tightly.

Of course, Bai Haonan had come back for Chen Sufen. Sure enough, she was still standing atop the flower bed like a traffic light, as if she’d known Bai Haonan would return for her—though she probably hadn’t expected him on a motorcycle. She jumped down and waited at the roadside; as Bai Haonan braked, she was about to climb onto the back, but seeing Isa pressed tightly to his back, she scoffed, swung her long legs over, and sat right in Bai Haonan’s lap on the gas tank, making him curse, “What the hell are you doing? You’re blocking me...”

But with his bandaged right hand, he still twisted the throttle hard.

Ten minutes later, the three of them, disheveled and desperate, were in a white little Polo, winding down the mountain road and leaving the scenic area behind.

Even with his right hand inconvenient for shifting, Bai Haonan could still make the most of the hatchback’s low chassis on these winding roads—he’d driven sports cars for years, after all. Soon he’d lost their motorcycle and pickup truck pursuers. Just as he was about to relax and slow down, Isa, who had been silent in the back, suddenly warned, “Hurry up, don’t go to the county! If they call ahead, we’ll be stopped!”

Bai Haonan had no choice but to floor the accelerator. “Fen, navigation! Turn on the GPS!”

Surprisingly, Chen Sufen in the passenger seat took her time, “What’s the rush? I haven’t offended anyone. I don’t even know this Ah Zhu girl…”

Before she could finish, Isa lunged from the back seat, locking her arm around Chen Sufen’s neck from behind and yanking hard. “I’ll kill you! I’ve had enough of you…”

This move would have been fatal against ninety-nine percent of women—but against Chen Sufen? Bai Haonan just rolled his eyes. In an instant, Isa shrieked in pain, “Ahhh! You’re killing me! You murderer… *%￥#@” and burst out in a torrent of invective in her native tongue.

Chen Sufen had easily twisted Isa’s arm into a painful angle. “That’s a warning. Don’t think you can act as wild here as you do on your mountain…”

Her tone was calm, but all the more menacing for it.