The Way of Restraint

Chapter 107: A Moment of Weakness in the Heart

Su Jie saw the occasional passing pickup truck loaded with soldiers armed to the teeth. It was impossible not to feel nervous.

Although his martial arts were solid, his mental fortitude strong, and he’d been through multiple real-life combat scenarios—believing himself to be someone who could stay calm even if Mount Tai collapsed before him—the sight of armed soldiers in a foreign land shattered that illusion. He realized he wasn’t as psychologically resilient as he had imagined.

It was a moment of self-awareness.

At the same time, he came to appreciate just how safe things were back home.

Only in a war-torn region does one truly understand the value of a powerful and peaceful nation.

Back home, even if life was tough, people could still pursue education and work hard to build better lives. But here, survival was uncertain from one day to the next—it was hard to see any hope at all.

“This is your first time here. You’ll get used to it eventually,” said Zhang Manman. “Everyone needs time to adapt. The first time I came to a conflict zone to do business, I barely slept for the first month, had constant nightmares, and was always on edge, worried about stray bullets or armed robbers. But eventually, I got used to it. You’re handling it far better than I did at the start.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, a burst of gunfire erupted not far away—intense and close.

Su Jie’s body instantly tensed up like a pouncing leopard. He crouched low, ready to spring into action.

Zhang Jinchuan also instinctively ducked his head, seemingly experienced in finding cover within the vehicle—his movements fluid and practiced, clearly not his first encounter.

Zhang Manman, however, remained calm. She slammed the brakes. The van slowed down and turned sharply to the roadside before coming to a stop. She immediately got out of the vehicle.

“Never stay inside a car during a situation like this. It’s too large a target and can easily become a priority for attackers. And unless it’s an armored vehicle, regular cars can’t stop bullets—using them as cover is useless,” Zhang Manman explained as she stepped out, wearing a tan camouflage uniform that blended in well with the local terrain, allowing her to hide among grass and dirt.

Naturally, Su Jie and Zhang Jinchuan were dressed in the same gear.

Each of them carried a backpack filled with various essentials—most importantly, medical kits, military rations, and water.

They also had military-grade knives tucked into their sleeves.

It was full-on field-ops special forces gear—who knew where Zhang Manman had sourced it from.

However, none of them carried firearms—for obvious reasons related to local sensitivities.

After exiting the vehicle, the trio quickly moved a few hundred meters away and took cover by the roadside.

Suddenly, another wave of gunfire rang out—loud and rapid.

“Down!”

Zhang Manman hit the dirt.

Su Jie felt his scalp tingle. A surge of danger overwhelmed him. Acting purely on instinct, he leapt forward and flattened himself to the ground like a snake, trying to press himself into the earth.

Just where he had been standing moments ago, several small craters appeared in the dirt. No bullets were visible—no one knew where they had ricocheted off to.

Had he not reacted so quickly, he might’ve been shot.

Life and death had hung on a split second.

“Were we being attacked?” Zhang Jinchuan was also lying flat, blending in with the terrain like a dead leaf. His expression was serious but composed.

“No. There was a small skirmish in the city up ahead. Stray bullets just happened to land here,” Zhang Manman assessed calmly. “It’s a common occurrence. Once the shooting stops, we’ll move on.”

“Hey! Scared?” Zhang Jinchuan called out to Su Jie, still lying on the ground.

But Su Jie didn’t answer. His mind had entered a strange state.

In that split second, he’d almost been hit by a stray bullet. The consequences were unthinkable.

Movies and TV often show people getting shot and continuing to fight, with only some blood at the wound. In reality, bullets tear through flesh, leaving massive, gaping holes. Without immediate medical treatment, disability or death is almost guaranteed.

He was just a student from back home, suddenly thrown into a foreign war zone, nearly dying from a stray bullet with no rhyme or reason.

It had truly been a brush with death.

He had fought in many matches and even been attacked by Grey Wolf with a knife—but compared to stray bullets, all that now seemed like child’s play.

‘Life and death are unpredictable.’

It took more than ten seconds for Su Jie to come back to himself. Just now, it had felt like a dream—surreal and disconnected. But looking at his arm, now scraped and bleeding, he realized everything was terrifyingly real.

And what came next might be even more dangerous.

Two conflicting thoughts arose in his mind. One was a desire to embrace danger—knowing that if he survived it, his psychological resilience would reach a new level.

Huang Dingyi had said Su Jie’s “Hoe Strike” technique had the flavor of ancient warriors charging into battle, but lacked the genuine essence of lived combat. It was all mental suggestion—untainted by blood and fire.

Now, having dodged a bullet—literally—Su Jie had tasted that essence.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more of it to make the “Hoe Strike” truly unstoppable.

The second thought was to turn around and go home. Live a quiet, safe life. Why risk dying in a foreign land? Martial arts can be practiced slowly. Money can be earned over time. Lose your life, and it’s all over.

Especially if he died not by some enemy’s hand, but by a random stray bullet during someone else’s firefight—that’d be a senseless, meaningless death.

But in the blink of an eye, Su Jie realized this was the soft, comfort-seeking part of his psyche speaking up. In peaceful times, such thoughts are easily hidden. But in a harsh environment, they surface, trying to erode resolve and weaken willpower.

“Destroy it!”

Su Jie smashed his fists together, thumbs locked like bull horns. It was a mudra from the “Thirteen Protectors Iron Body”—a symbol of inner strength clashing against weakness, cultivating an immovable diamond-like spirit that crushed fear, cowardice, and distracting emotions.

As his fists met, a jolt ran through his body. His senses sharpened. That second thought—of retreat and comfort—was smashed into oblivion.

‘Be vigilant in times of peace. Even in a peaceful era, one must remain cautious and hardened. Forget war, and danger follows; love war, and destruction comes.’

He recalled the ancient wisdom.

“All right.”

The gunfire in the distance had subsided. Zhang Manman listened intently for a while before standing. “Let’s move. We have a base in the city run by the Zhang family. We’ll settle in first, then negotiate with the local armed group that seized the shipment.”

“No problem,” Zhang Jinchuan replied. “Your family has plenty of connections. Convincing the militia leader shouldn’t be hard. The real concern is that since the Feng family made a move, they’re probably prepared for that too.”

“Su Jie, you seem different,” Zhang Jinchuan said, narrowing his eyes, sensing a change in Su Jie’s demeanor.

“Just a bit of aftershock,” Su Jie replied. “I’m good now. Let’s keep moving. You two are seasoned. I’m the newbie here—I’ll observe before making any calls.”

Back in the van, they noticed the windshield had been shattered—clearly hit by a stray bullet. Zhang Manman seemed unfazed. They cleaned out the glass and resumed their journey.

As the van approached a ruined urban area, more people began to appear.

Groups of soldiers roamed—three to five at a time—with no clear purpose.

There were also makeshift military camps.

“One, two, three—go!”

Just then, Su Jie heard something familiar—Chinese.

He spotted a fellow countryman filming with his phone in front of a group of neatly lined-up soldiers, all holding rifles and making peace signs, singing in awkward but intelligible Mandarin:

“Zhang Yingying! Happy birthday… Happy birthday to you…”

They sang the whole song—over a minute long.

“All right, next video—everyone shout, ‘Liang Liang is so handsome!’”

“Third video—hold up these boots and say, ‘Top-notch quality!’”

Su Jie watched in stunned silence as the soldiers sent birthday wishes, praised some guy’s looks, then promoted a pair of boots for a commercial.

“This is normal,” Zhang Jinchuan chuckled. “You can order this kind of video on any e-commerce site back home. Pay a few hundred yuan, and these soldiers will shoot a promo for you. It’s a business opportunity someone came up with over here. See? He’s paying them.”

Sure enough, the countryman filming was handing out cash to the soldiers.

They looked delighted, clapping shoulders and giving awkward thumbs-up.

“Lao Tie, 666…” they chimed in broken Chinese.

Their attitude was warm and cheerful.

Su Jie thought about it—he had seen reports like this online, but never paid much attention. Having been on edge all this time, the moment of lightheartedness relaxed him.

The countryman finished filming and waved at the van, approaching them.

“Don’t head into the city just yet. There was a small skirmish earlier. It’s quiet now, but still a bit unstable. Tomorrow should be better,” he advised.

Su Jie noticed the young man had deeply tanned skin.

“Bro, you’re something else—found a niche business in a warzone,” Su Jie greeted him, genuinely warmed by meeting a fellow Chinese abroad.

“Just a small thing. Got lots of orders. These soldiers are happy, too—it’s a source of income and it’s safe. Now they all protect me, worried I’ll get hurt and stop paying them. A lot of people here are tired of all the fighting. If there’s a way to make money that’s also fun, why not?” the young man grinned. “I’m here for engineering work. What about you guys?”