The Beautiful Boss's Personal Bodyguard-Chapter 35 - Be the First to Strike
35: Chapter 35 Be the First to Strike
35 -35 Be the First to Strike
After saying that, he walked away with big steps towards the sky, hands in pockets, legs outwards in a “bah” character shape, humming the most common “Love Trading”, completely looking like a hooligan.
Where did the cold arrogance from before go?
I am utterly unrestrained, as if detached.
In such a manner, Ye Tian arrived above the Shuanghong Bridge, where two massive cables crisscrossed the sky, like two giant bows or like Gongsun Muyang’s somewhat hunched back.
Wearing a green shirt, long robe, braids, with his big pipe alternating brightness like a firefly.
“Ran into trouble?” fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
“Yeah, just a few dogs, what about you?
How long have you been here?”
“Not long, just smoked a few puffs.”
Speaking of smoking, Ye Tian touched around, took out a cigarette, it was Gou Xuan’s Red Mountain Tea, this was still the first time he smoked this cigarette.
Before, he had only seen the old captain smoke this cigarette, at first, he was very envious, but later he found out that though the old captain had Red Mountain Tea in his pocket, what was actually in the Red Mountain Tea cigarette pack was the cheapest kind which is nearly out of production now.
Lighting the cigarette, the lighter faintly revealed a stunning lady in a swimsuit printed on it, with surging waves.
“Want one?” Ye Tian asked, holding up the cigarette pack.
Gongsun Ju lifted his pipe, “I prefer this.”
Almost as if they were telepathically connected, the two stopped talking.
Ye Tian smoked, leaning on the railing, looking at the pitch-dark scenery in front of him—the crooked willow trees by the riverbank, buildings half-demolished and half-constructed, piles of construction debris, newly erected streetlights, and the distant flashy bar street.
This was a place mixed with old and new.
But on this Shuanghong Bridge, these two men were merely two passersby.
Shuanghong Bridge was newly constructed, covered with asphalt which supposedly does less damage to vehicles than cement because it has shock-absorbing properties.
As Ye Tian’s leather shoes rubbed against it, it did feel somewhat soft.
Stopping the rubbing, he lightly stepped down… bulls*** materials!
A big hole appeared under his foot.
Seeing this, Gongsun Ju watched and his heart fluctuated with the dimming of his pipe, “You’ve been practicing Thousand Jin Fall for quite some years now, huh?”
Red Mountain Tea cigarettes were soft and sticky; Ye Tian stuck out his tongue, absent-minded, “Just playing around; after all, I can’t compare to the experts.” He spit, frowning.
After smoking too much Red Mountain Tea, he couldn’t enjoy this soft cigarette.
“Wait for me a moment; I’ll be quick.” Seeing Ye Tian throwing away the cigarette butt, Gongsun Ju said while sucking on his pipe.
“No rush, who knows if this was the last puff,” Ye Tian casually fiddled with the hole he had stepped out, pulling out quite some pebbles and cement.
A breeze blew, somewhat hot and stuffy.
He looked up at the sky; the moon hung there, not looking like rain was coming.
Strange.
Looking at the moon, Ye Tian suddenly remembered what a fortune-teller once said.
At the temple fair, after having his face and hands read, that blind man had only said four words, “Lonely Moon Bright.” Ye Tian asked him what that meant, the blind man shook his head, “The will of heaven must not…” Before he could finish saying “be revealed,” Ye Tian had turned away.
It was just about seeking some money; he wouldn’t give him any.
That fortune-teller, riding his deflated old bicycle, had stubbornly followed Ye Tian for two miles but hadn’t caught up.
Angrily, he cursed Ye Tian as a damn rabbit, for how else could he run so fast?
Thinking of this, Ye Tian smiled, “Shepherd.”
Gongsun Ju was startled, then also laughed, “What is it?”
“There was once a blind man who told my fortune, saying I was ‘Lonely Moon Bright.’ You know a lot, explain to me, what does that mean?” Ye Tian asked, looking up at the full moon.
“…You didn’t give that guy money, did you?”
He saw through it.
“No, what can a blind man see?”
Taking a puff of smoke, the brightness finally dimmed, the smoking pot was finished as usual, tapped against the sole of his shoe, the smoking pipe was rolled and wrapped around the shaft, “You don’t understand, the way a blind man sees people, that’s the most ruthless.”
It was finally about to begin.
A breeze brushed against their faces, the faces of two worldly society men.
Ye Tian stood there casually, with his hands in his pockets, relaxed and natural.
Gongsun nodded at him, “He has great talent.”
“Scrape, scrape, scrape!” The black and white cloth shoes made a somewhat harsh sound against the asphalt road.
From one spot to another, merely ten meters apart, Ye Tian’s pupils contracted sharply.
This old man was even more formidable than he’d imagined, truly an anomaly, the sole man who could infuse such momentum into his steps.
What kind of momentum?
Whistling like the wind, thunderous like lightning!
The Xingyi Fist’s horizontal cannon aimed at the chest, targetting the heart and lungs, the force bursting like an arching bow, explosive like thunder.
Being hit by this punch would shatter all internal organs!
The force of the punch was fierce, causing a flutter of the heart.
Just at the spot three inches from the heart, Gongsun’s fist stopped, staring straight at Ye Tian, “Is that Wing Chun’s Moon Marking Finger?”
“It’s the Panchen Finger.
But it’s similar, just the name is different.”
The index and middle finger together, Ye Tian’s right hand pointed under Gongsun’s armpit, to the left, the location of the heart, also at a distance of three inches.
Before one of them died, both wanted to live, so they both drew back simultaneously.
“Senior, stop playing these arm-swinging and fist-flinging games with me, a junior.
The title ‘Northern First Blade Man’ isn’t for sheer fun, Gongsun, it’s not just about herding sheep.”
“That’s interesting.” Bending down, he lifted his turquoise long robe, revealing the hilt of a grass-green blade on his left leg, pulling it out, the cold light flickered.
The leg scissor, though called a scissor was essentially a blade, often seen among the meat-eating ethnic minorities especially in places like Inner Mongolia and Qinghai, usually handmade by herdsmen, mainly because it was handy.
Gongsun’s blade had been with him for most of his life, it being a blade, he had no scruples; be it slaughtering pigs, chickens, or dogs, but what it killed the most, were people.
Gongsun Muyang’s leg scissor was nourished with human blood.
“Again?”
“Let’s go!”
Fast!
Never seen such speed!
Like a steel arrow bursting from an 800 Jin heavy Bull Horn Bow, piercing directly at Gongsun Muyang, the ground beneath his feet already shattered into a mess, the concrete mixed with asphalt was brutally smashed by the aftermath.
It’s not every time that striking second leads to dominating; the previous Panchen Finger was a desperate gamble by Ye Tian, and although winning, the fierce punch was not easy to endure.
This is an internal injury, even more severe than a 7.66mm rifle bullet, not just about withstanding or not.
Therefore, Ye Tian chose to strike first this time.
The leg scissor gleamed brightly, like a slanted crescent moon, slicing through the air, with an eerie and splendid angle; in the end, half of the blade still shone brightly, while the other half was stained with deep red.
