Chapter 52: Knowingly Breaking the Law

Just as the patrol officer raised his long spear, ready to knock Ding Nan unconscious,

Ding Nan suddenly twisted around and leaped, landing a whip-like kick to the officer’s face.

Ding Nan’s reaction caught the patrol officer off guard.

He blocked the kick with his spear shaft, sliding backward.

“You… are all in on this together?”

Ding Nan glanced forward and back, narrowing his eyes.

“A sharp kid. Didn’t expect you to be so decisive. Not everyone can react that fast, and even those who do might hesitate.”

The patrol officer twirled his spear and rubbed his chin.

Assaulting an officer was still a crime in the modern world, with a minimum sentence of three years.

But in this Cultivation World, resembling an ancient society, attacking a patrol officer was a serious offense.

At the very least, it meant branding and exile; at worst, immediate execution—harsher than the old China of Ding Nan’s previous life.

“Kid, you’ve got some moves. Interested in joining the Yihe Association?” the patrol officer asked.

Ding Nan noticed the subtle shift in his stance, coiled and ready to strike, and sneered, “You don’t seem sincere about wanting me to join.”

Gangs valued loyalty above all.

One condition for joining was having your background fully known; without an inside connection, it was nearly impossible to get in.

For an outsider like Ding Nan with a murky past, how could the gang genuinely invite him to join?

Having lived in this world for years, Ding Nan knew that every year, children went missing in Qingquan City.

There had once been many local toughs, and back in the day, his old man had even been invited by the City Lord to join a crackdown on crime.

When Ding Nan was young, he’d often heard Ding Wen boast about how he’d cut through gang members in his prime.

“Heh…”

The patrol officer pulled a hollow wooden box wrapped in cloth from his pocket.

The moment he infused Spiritual Qi into it, the surrounding sounds faded to a whisper, as if all the noise was drifting away.

A silencing artifact. Essential for committing crimes.

“Outsider, you saw something you shouldn’t have.”

With that, the patrol officer stepped back, blocking the entrance to the Dead End Alley, then called out to the two traffickers deeper in, “Hey, you two take care of him.”

“You got it, Liu Laoda.”

Ding Nan turned his head, eyeing the two traffickers closing in on him.

“I’d advise you not to struggle. You’re only at the Early Qi Refining Stage.

Save yourself the pain,” the Short Man said with a sinister tone.

Ding Nan didn’t speak.

He just clenched his fists.

This world was brimming with Spiritual Qi, in both living and non-living things.

Living beings either turned into monsters nourished by Qi or plants, becoming food or medicine.

Non-living things, like various mineral Spirit Stones, or crystals formed from condensed biological remains.

All taken from heaven and earth, returning to heaven and earth.

Humans, on a biological level, were a type of monster.

Human bones could condense into Spirit Stones.

That’s right—in this world, humans weren’t just labor; they were also a top-tier ingredient and premium fertilizer.

Grave robbers didn’t just steal burial goods.

Remains that hadn’t lost their Spiritual Qi were also on their list of items to steal.

So how could Ding Nan believe the lies of these three men?

He didn’t want to end up as fertilizer.

“Prepare to die!”

In an instant, the two men behind Ding Nan attacked.

Ding Nan had no weapons, and the area around him was empty—not even a branch.

The beggars had probably taken any sticks for firewood.

Helpless, Ding Nan had to fight barehanded.

Luckily, his opponents didn’t seem intent on using weapons either.

After a series of grunts and clashes, Ding Nan was backed into the alley by the two traffickers.

He rubbed his hands, nursing the bruises from the impact of bones.

The two traffickers, on the other hand, were battered and bruised.

The Thin Man had his nose broken by a punch from Ding Nan, and blood was streaming from his nostrils.

The Short Man had his lip split open by an elbow from Ding Nan.

Ding Nan retreated until his back hit the wall.

Then he spotted a Sack beside his hand.

On the sack, a sturdy rope was tied tightly around the opening.

Ding Nan’s eyes sharpened as he stared at the Thin Man and Short Man. He untied and pulled out the rope.

The moment the rope came free, the sack fell open, revealing a little girl inside, around eleven or twelve years old.

Her hair was streaked with white, and her face still had the soft, childish plumpness unique to young girls, fair and delicate.

A cloth gag was stuffed in her mouth, letting out only muffled sobs.

Her eyes were hollow, as if she’d suffered a great shock, staring blankly at the three men nearby.

In her gaze, the tip of the patrol officer’s spear reflected.

Her reaction to it was intense—her body trembled uncontrollably.

Seeing the girl exposed, the patrol officer frowned and urged,

“You two, your hand-to-hand skills aren’t cutting it. Use your weapons.”

The Thin Man and Short Man exchanged glances, then drew short swords from their belts, usually used for self-defense.

The blades glinted coldly, but that was all.

Having studied Artifact Refining under Luo Yao, Ding Nan easily saw that the swords were mediocre—just slightly more durable than average.

“Kid, get behind me!”

Ding Nan said.

He shielded the girl behind him.

Spreading his arms like a rooster, Ding Nan gripped the rope, adjusting his position to avoid accidentally whipping the girl behind him.

They tried to advance again.

With a shout like a beggar’s cry, Ding Nan lashed out, the rope striking the Short Man across the face, leaving a clear welt.

The Short Man flinched in pain, never expecting the rope to fly so fast.

Ding Nan struck again.

The Thin Man braced himself, trying to block, but blocking against a whip was useless—he only ended up hurting his own hand.

Ding Nan’s skilled Whip Technique startled both of them.

‘You know fist techniques, and now you’re skilled with a whip—a bizarre weapon?’

For years, Ding Nan’s Spiritual Qi hadn’t improved much.

During his gloomy, unwilling-to-cultivate days, he’d focused on honing his martial skills to comfort himself.

Ding Nan swung the rope with both hands, feinting and keeping the enemy on guard.

“Enough! You two at the mid Qi Refining Stage can’t even beat a kid at the early stage.”

The patrol officer stepped forward, thumb pointing back at the alley entrance.

“You two guard the door. I’ll show you how I’ll beat this brat to a pulp!”

The two traffickers retreated behind the officer.

“You’re not using a short sword? Going with a spear? Will that make them respect you?”

Ding Nan taunted.

“Hmph, aren’t you holding a whip?” the patrol officer replied shamelessly, gripping his long spear tightly.

Ding Nan made a face like Wang Defa.

His was just a common rope, while the officer wielded a sharp weapon that could skewer him through—and it was a long polearm.

At the Qi Refining Stage, cultivators only had a basic grasp of channeling Spiritual Qi.

They could manipulate very little, having minimal effect on the outside world.

They couldn’t control objects or fly on swords, so the longer the weapon, the stronger the advantage.

Leg techniques and weapon reach had a decisive impact on victory or defeat.

So this patrol officer was utterly despicable!

Ding Nan squinted, internally cursing the officer’s shamelessness.

“Kid!”

Suddenly, the officer dropped all pretense.

“Late Qi Refining Stage!”

Ding Nan felt the man’s late-stage Qi Refining aura and gasped.

“Don’t die too soon!”

The officer, pleased with Ding Nan’s reaction, flashed a vicious, brutal expression.