After leaving the village, Song Shichao drove us down the mountain road. Concerned, he said, "Uncle, there’s still a distance to Jianyang. Why don't you take a nap?"

"Alright then. Thank you," I replied.

"Oh, we’re family. There’s no need to be so polite!" laughed Song Shichao.

I lay in my seat in repose. An unknown amount of time passed before the car came to an abrupt stop. Waking up from my nap, I assumed we arrived at the railway station but I found the vehicle parked by a deserted stretch of the mountain road. Left and right of us were cliffs.

Turning to Song Sichao, I asked, "Why did we stop?"

Song Shichao patted the dashboard, "That’s strange, why have we run out of gas? I’m certain I filled the tank when I left..."

The three of us got out and examined the vehicle. I immediately caught a whiff of gasoline. Looking down, I found the fuel tank intact. However, Song Xingchen went around the other side and called, "Young Master, over here!"

We walked over and discovered a small hole in the fuel tank that appeared to have been caused by a bullet. In movies, cars exploded once the fuel tank was hit but in truth, that was all fake. A bullet to the fuel tank wouldn’t really cause an explosion.

Someone obviously used a silencer when shooting a hole in the fuel tank while we were traveling at high speeds. Since the shot was made from the other side of the fuel tank, I surmised our shooter had sharp marksmanship.

I felt a chill crawl up my spine at such a thought. If this bullet had been aimed at my head instead of the fuel tank, I would be a headless body right now.

Song Xingchen frowned, "Something’s wrong. We have to go."

"Uncle Xingchen, what are we going to do about your luggage?" asked Song Sichao.

"Forget about that. Our lives are more important!” urged Song Xingchen.

As soon as the words fell from his lips, we noticed a fleet of trucks around the bend of the Panshan Highway. The three of us exchanged a look of consternation.

“Run!" shouted Song Xingchen.

A big truck accelerated instantly towards us, slamming into the off-road vehicle. The railing on the other side of the road collapsed and the vehicle was pushed over the cliff. Rolling and bumping along the rocks, it finally fell to the bottom.

The truck stopped on the side of the road with half of the front almost suspended in midair. A group of burly men jumped out of the truck with iron rods, axes, watermelon knives and other weapons in their hands, reeking of ill intent.

Song Xingchen quietly placed his hand on his Tang Sword and coldly asked, "Hello there, which mountain are you from?"

Upon hearing Song Xingchen speak in Jianghu slang, the leader of these men sneered, "Don’t worry, we’re not here to kill anyone. We just want to borrow something from you."

"What is it?" I asked.

"One of your bones,” he pointed to my nose.

He spoke in such an understated tone that I wondered if I misheard him. Is this something you could borrow?

Song Xingchen whispered, "You two run and I’ll deal with them!"

"No, I’m a martial Song as well,” protested Song Sichao. Turning to me, he said, “Uncle, you hide while we deal with them.”

Song Xingchen slowly pulled out his sword halfway, "I don't know if you’re crazy or are up to something. Whatever it is, you’ll have to go through me if you’re thinking of hurting him!”

"If you know what’s for your own good, you’ll get out of the way,” spat the leader. “But since you don’t, you asked for it! Get him!"

Upon his command, the other men charged towards us. With a graceful slash, Song Xingchen broke the iron rod in one of the men’s hands and kicked him in the abdomen so he fell on his companions.

Song Shichao’s hands were positioned in Fanged Snake Style as he charged into the crowd, aiming at their throats–a quick and cruel strategy.

The two resembled lions entering a flock of sheep. In the blink of an eye, they beat the gang black and blue. In fact, Song Xingchen showed them mercy, or else they wouldn’t still have their limbs.

Sinking his foot onto the leader's chest, Song Xingchen demanded, "Who sent you?"

"I-I don't know..."

Before the man could finish speaking, Song Xingchen slammed the scabbard into his face and two bloody teeth flew out. Once again, Song Xingchen repeated his question. This time, the man replied with a mouthful of blood, "Someone offered a reward of ten million for one of his bones."

"Which one?" I asked, walking towards him.

He pointed to his right forearm. The mafia people often spent money to get rid of a leg or a hand, but I had never heard of them ask for a radius. Besides, if I gave him my radius, wouldn’t I be disabled?

"Who ordered it!" Song Xingchen kicked the man in the face.

I was tempted to prevent Song Xingchen from beating the man every time he asked a question, but that would be undermining him. Anyway, I was well aware of his violent tendencies so I kept my mouth shut.

"N-no one ordered me. It was..." muttered the man.

Right then, I noticed a red dot on his forehead.

"Get out of the way!" I shouted.

Poof! A bloody hole appeared on his forehead, his head swaying back and forth under the huge impact of the bullet. With that, he collapsed to the ground, eyes wide open and blood slowly dribbling out from the back of his head.

The three of us immediately retreated. Fortunately, the bullets came from above and our position under the cliff happened to be a blind corner for the sniper.

The gangsters convulsed as they were shot in the head, one by one. The sniper’s marksmanship was superb, and in the blink of an eye, all the gangsters were dead.

Under the cliff, the three of us didn’t dare make a move. Song Xingchen listened carefully for movement while I pulled out my cell phone and opened Baidu Maps. Due to poor reception, I refreshed the page for some time before exiting entirely. Our hiding place was right smack in the bend of the highway. Since the sniper occupied a commanding height, we would eventually be exposed to his bullets no matter which direction we went.

We didn’t have any other options except to stay and fight!

After remaining motionless for an hour, Song Shichao pointed to the truck on the side of the road and said, "I have an idea. Why don’t we run up to that truck and drive away?"

I shook my head, "It's too dangerous, not to mention the fact that the vehicle is parked in an unfavorable position. Even if we manage to reach the truck, it will take quite a few seconds to start the engine. That’s enough for him to kill all of us."

This sniper didn't seem to be aiming for my life since he had dozens of opportunities to attack before. Did he also want my bones like those gangsters?

I couldn’t help cursing on the inside. God only knows which criminal I had provoked to bring this upon myself!

Bang! A gunshot interrupted my thoughts. Frightened, Song Shichao trembled as he quickly checked himself. It turned out that the bullet hit the truck’s fuel tank and the gasoline started gushing out. Obviously, the sniper had overheard our conversation and intended to destroy our last chance of escape.

In shock, Song Shichao pulled out a cigarette from his pocket to smoke. Shaking his head, Song Xingchen held his lighter. There was gasoline all over the ground so the slightest spark could cause an explosion.

I was suddenly struck by an idea and pointed to my eyes, then to the top, and made a throwing motion.

What I meant was to use the Eyes of Yama to frighten the sniper so Song Xingchen could hit him with stones. However, Song Xingchen disagreed, mouthing the words, "It's too dangerous!"

Grabbing Song Shichao's lighter, I pointed to the fuel tank. If we could produce an explosion, the glare would instantly deprive the sniper of his sight. There might be hope for us to escape!