The Way of Restraint

Chapter 123: The Mastermind Begins to Emerge

‘If I expose this opening, he’ll definitely go for a throw… and that’s when my chance comes.’ Su Jie suddenly stepped back.

As expected, his opponent seized the moment—flipping his dagger forward, aiming it right along Su Jie’s retreating motion.

But Su Jie dropped low instead, surging forward close to the ground. Using the move “Black Dog Burrows Under the Gate,” he slipped under his enemy’s legs. With a swift slash, his blade severed the tendons at the man’s thigh and calf.

Thud!

The opponent collapsed instantly.

Su Jie followed up with a hard kick to the temple, knocking him out cold and ensuring he could cause no more trouble.

“All done on my side,” he messaged. 

Soon after, Zhang Manman and Zhang Jinchuan came over, pulling lighting equipment from their packs.

The man Su Jie had subdued was in his thirties, his face sharp and cruel—the textbook image of a professional killer.

“This is Hungry Wolf, the one who slipped away. He’s the strongest of the lot, and you actually knocked him out,” Zhang Manman said, giving Su Jie a look. “He’s one of Feng Hengyi’s most trusted men. Even under these circumstances, you didn’t kill him. Truly, your righteousness is unmatched.”

Su Jie couldn’t tell if she was mocking or praising him. “So what now? This group was just a small ambush. If Feng Hengyi himself comes after us for killing Dalu, we won’t stand a chance. We’ll really die here.”

“Relax. I already notified my dad—he’s sent people, and he might even come himself. If Feng Hengyi dares to show up, my father will see to it that he dies here. It’ll be the perfect chance to get rid of a plague.”

“I really want to meet your father one day, to see just how high his level truly is.” After these days together, Su Jie had learned that Zhang Manman’s father was a formidable figure in the mercenary and security worlds. Even powerful warlords respected him. He had served as a senior instructor at several world-class training camps. Both Master Ma and Master Luo had mentioned him by name—Zhang Hongqing—a name spoken in the same breath as Odell.

But while Odell occasionally appeared in the media as a coach for world champions, Zhang Hongqing never once showed up in public reports.

Even the Zhang family didn’t seem to run any companies—no one knew what they actually did—yet they were extremely wealthy.

That kind of background placed them firmly in the realm of underground power.

“Su Jie, you’re still too soft. These people came here to kill us. If you don’t finish them, they’ll just keep coming after you. Don’t tell me you think he’ll turn out like Gale—someone you can reform with compassion?” Zhang Jinchuan said coldly. “Gray Wolf, Hungry Wolf, Ghost Wolf, Nether Wolf, Demon Wolf, Cunning Wolf, Evil Wolf—these seven wolves are Feng Hengyi’s real enforcers. They’re vicious, their hands stained with countless crimes. Killing them a hundred times wouldn’t be excessive.”

“I’ve been thinking—sometimes, restraint is harder than killing,” Su Jie replied calmly. “I’m actually training my own mentality. When a person feels the urge to kill, in a law-governed place, acting on it is hard. But in a lawless land, that impulse is easily unleashed. Take now—I could kill Hungry Wolf. In fact, I probably should—it would save me endless trouble. But if I can restrain myself here, it strengthens my mind.”

“Your thinking is contradictory,” Zhang Jinchuan frowned. “That’s not good. Training martial arts requires unwavering resolve.”

Su Jie shook his head. “I wonder—if martial arts pursued something other than killing, could they still reach the highest realm? A new era needs a new spirit to replace the old one. When the world is peaceful, with no killing anywhere, will martial arts lose their meaning? I don’t think so. Martial arts will always exist, but killing skills will not. One day, killing arts will vanish, while true martial arts endure. Without relying on slaughter, martial arts can still reach their peak.”

“So that’s your pursuit,” Zhang Jinchuan exhaled deeply. “It’s true—since ancient times, martial arts were killing skills, born on battlefields and in gang fights. Even in the West, their origins lie in war, gladiator arenas, even man’s struggles with beasts. History proves that pure health practices and performance arts can’t match real combat styles. But you raise a good question—peace is the trend of the future. If war disappears, will martial arts stagnate? Even for you now, though you don’t kill, just facing constant threats to your life hones your skill. But if no one fights at all one day, how will you improve?”

“That’s exactly what I’m exploring,” Su Jie nodded. “Others may be searching their own paths. This is mine. I just hope I can walk it to the end.”

“You might get yourself killed,” Zhang Jinchuan said. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of course I’m afraid. But after facing so many bullets, my fear has lessened.” Su Jie’s answer was honest.

“Hahahaha!” Zhang Jinchuan burst out laughing.

“Let’s go. My van still runs—help me lift it up,” Zhang Manman said, stepping forward. “As for Hungry Wolf, we’ll bring him along alive. He’s worth more this way. He knows plenty of Feng Hengyi’s secrets, not to mention his price on the international bounty market. Since you won’t kill him, we’ll haul him back breathing.”

As she spoke, she pulled a syringe from her pack and jabbed it into Hungry Wolf’s neck vein.

“This is a strong sedative—keeps him asleep for three days straight. Weaker bodies will suffer for it, but that’s not my problem.”

The three of them worked together to right the van. Although the vehicle was badly damaged and its windows shattered, it could still run.

“This van is incredible. Domestic-made really is tough—the quality is unmatched,” even Zhang Jinchuan had to admit.

They drove off again, now with Hungry Wolf in tow.

*****

Meanwhile, dozens of kilometers away, in an abandoned factory.

The factory still bore scars of bombing, long deserted.

In its center sat Feng Hengyi, clad in dusty yellow camouflage gear, fully armed. He wasn’t here to show off. For all his martial prowess, he was still flesh and blood. Enough bullets would kill him like anyone else.

One shot was all it would take. His body, however strong, was no different from an ordinary man’s when pierced by a bullet.

So he wore a bulletproof vest, helmet, gloves, even a protective collar around his neck against shrapnel. His helmet could drop down into a face shield.

In short, nearly every vital point was armored—his safety much increased.

“Boss, Hungry Wolf’s operation has begun. Not sure if he can take down Zhang Jinchuan and the others,” a soldier hurried in. Built like Gray Wolf, this was Demon Wolf, one of Feng Hengyi’s lieutenants. His real name was unknown—the codename was all anyone used.

“You think Zhang Jinchuan is the biggest threat? He’s crossed my family many times, tricked my elder brother and made him suffer. But truthfully, he can’t do us much real harm. That Su Jie, though… who’d have thought a nobody would turn out decent? Back at Minglun Martial Arts Academy, I should’ve crippled him completely.” Feng Hengyi stood.

“When do we move, Boss?” Demon Wolf’s masked face was unreadable, his voice low and sinister, like the devil his codename suggested.

“Wait for news,” Feng Hengyi said. “What’s the word from Awasi? I killed his top fighter, Dalu. He ought to show some response. That man made Awasi a fortune. Without him, he’ll lose face in the arena against the neighboring warlords.”

“I’ll call in Ghost Wolf—he’s in charge of intel.” Demon Wolf turned to leave, but rushed back moments later, his voice ice-cold. “Boss… Boss…”

“What is it?” Feng Hengyi shot up to his feet.

“Ghost Wolf and all our patrols—they’ve all been knocked out. Next to Ghost Wolf, words were written on the ground. I didn’t dare touch anything. You should see for yourself.”

Expression unreadable, Feng Hengyi strode out. 

At one of the defensive points, sure enough, Ghost Wolf lay unconscious. No bullet wounds. No knife cuts. Just… gone, without even a chance to cry out.

Next to him, words were carved into the ground:

[Touch my daughter, and I’ll kill you.]

The handwriting was elegant, but each stroke was like a sword—brimming with murderous intent.

“Zhang Hongqing,” Feng Hengyi spat the name, scanning the surroundings. Suddenly, he vaulted upward, racing around the factory perimeter. Everywhere, his men lay collapsed, all unconscious—taken down without a sound.

“Zhang Hongqing! Show yourself!” Feng Hengyi roared. “Come fight me face to face! What kind of man skulks in the shadows?”

But the factory echoed empty, no reply.

Reaching Ghost Wolf, Feng Hengyi pressed acupoints, but the man didn’t stir.

His face darkened. Examining again, he realized the truth. Murderous aura burst from him like a storm—so fierce that even Demon Wolf stumbled back in fear.

“Boss… Ghost Wolf?” he asked cautiously.

“His brain took a massive blow. Permanent damage. He’s a vegetable now. Useless. Ruined,” Feng Hengyi said grimly. “We’re leaving.”

“What about the others?” Demon Wolf shivered. 

Their comrades had been disabled without a sound. Was Zhang Hongqing even human? How had he done this?

“Put a blade in them all.” Feng Hengyi gave the order and left without a backward glance.