Seeing this, the three men immediately dropped into a crouch, shielding their faces with their arms.
A volley of iron needles flew straight at them. With nowhere to hide, several needles pierced their skin, sending a wave of numbness spreading through their flesh.
One of the men tried to reach up and pull the needles out. He had barely plucked one free when a wave of severe dizziness hit him. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the side. "They're poisoned..."
"Too late to realize that now!"
Song Qiming tore the veils from the three men's faces. He didn't recognize a single one of them; he had absolutely never seen them before.
He planted the sole of his shoe squarely on the face of the man who had been barking orders and demanded harshly, "Speak. Who are you? Why are you coming after me?"
"Who sent you?"
The man clamped his jaw shut, refusing to utter a word. His gaze shifted to something behind Song Qiming, a dark glint flashing in his eyes.
Song Qiming delivered a vicious kick to the man's face with his right foot. A premolar snapped at the root, filling the man's mouth with the metallic taste of blood.
"If you won't talk, I'll hand you over to the magistrate."
The man clawed at the ground, dirt packing beneath his fingernails.
Not only did this kid carry hidden weapons, but he was also completely ruthless. Had he known, he would have demanded a lot more money for this job.
Seeing the man still wouldn't speak, Song Qiming was just about to pull his foot back and go fetch the authorities when a heavy club smashed violently into his back.
He stumbled forward, barely catching himself with his hands before hitting the ground.
A sudden gust of wind whipped past his ear, ruffling his loose hair. Song Qiming's eyes snapped wide open. Using his momentum, he immediately tucked into a forward roll, tumbling twice before springing swiftly to his feet.
Before he could even make out the figures, the overlapping shadows of two clubs swung toward him simultaneously.
He threw up his arms to block the blow. Taking a closer look, he realized there were far more than just two attackers. A dark mass of men loomed before him—at least seven or eight of them.
With his path home completely blocked, Song Qiming spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction.
Two alleys away on a narrow path, Ji Youming frowned slightly, a faint trace of worry weighing on his mind.
"The annual exams are tomorrow. Are you confident?"
Since Hu Fengye hadn't managed to outscore Song Qiming in the last monthly exams, Ji Youming was genuinely worried that his friend wouldn't make it into the Upper Academy.
Hu Fengye shook his head with a sigh. "If only they would open up two more spots this year."
Ji Youming glanced up at the sky. "Not a chance. The quota hasn't changed in decades."
"Help!!!"
The desperate cry echoed from a distance. Both boys immediately snapped their heads toward the sound.
They caught a fleeting glimpse of a youth in a dark cyan short jacket darting from the left side of the street to the right. A second later, seven or eight masked men sprinted after him, vanishing into the alleyway.
Hu Fengye froze in his tracks. Pointing toward where the figures had disappeared, he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty, "Was that Song Qiming just now?"
Ji Youming nodded. "I think so."
The two exchanged a single glance. In the next second, they took off as if their feet were on fire, sprinting madly in the direction Song Qiming had vanished.
It was the bitter cold of winter, and it had snowed that morning. With the freezing wind howling through the streets, the roads were already completely deserted by evening; not a single soul was in sight.
The townspeople, huddled around their hearths indoors, heard the cries for help. Cracking their windows open just a sliver to peek outside, they only saw the receding backs of a group of people running frantically down the street.
One woman shot a fierce glare at her husband and muttered bitterly, "It's definitely the thugs from the gambling den out hunting someone down again. Heaven knows how much debt was racked up this time."
Her husband silently turned his head away, not daring to utter a word.
"Don't run! Stop right there!" Ji Youming bellowed, dragging a broom behind him. The snow kicked up by his boots splattered right into the peering woman's face.
Hu Fengye gripped a heavy rock tightly in his hand. Plumes of white vapor puffed from his mouth in rapid succession as he gasped for air. His voice came out in broken fragments, his throat burning from the frigid air.
"They're running too fast... I can't keep this up."
Ji Youming grabbed his friend's sleeve, practically dragging him along. "Hurry! They're going to beat Song Qiming to death!"
Staring at the backs of the two boys as they disappeared down the road, the woman wiped the snow from her face and raised a brow in confusion. "Why are there two scholars chasing them? What on earth is going on?"
Rounding yet another corner, Hu Fengye braced his hands on his knees. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, his face completely numb from the cold.
"I really can't go any further."
He pointed toward the alleyway on the right. "Let's cut through the side path and climb the wall. I seriously can't run anymore."
It made sense that the masked thugs had incredible stamina, but how was Song Qiming such a fast runner? They had been running for ages and he still hadn't stopped!
He might as well have stopped and fought them—at least then he and Ji Youming would have been able to catch up.
Meanwhile, the masked men were growing increasingly anxious as they failed to close the distance on Song Qiming.
Even though the streets were empty, if the boy kept screaming for help like that, there was no telling how many people he would alert.
In a panic, one of the thugs completely disregarded their employer's strict orders to only cripple the target and spare his life. He hurled his dagger straight at Song Qiming's back.
"Watch out!" Ji Youming leaped down from the top of the wall, swinging his broom to swat the flying dagger away.
Song Qiming skidded to a halt, his face registering pure shock. "What are you guys doing here?"
Hu Fengye jumped down from the wall next and took his place beside Ji Youming, raising his rock, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"Your screeching was so awful it was hurting my ears," Hu Fengye quipped.
Three against eight. The odds were heavily against them.
Song Qiming stepped out from behind his friends to stand at the front. He lowered his voice and said, "I'm their target. You guys get out of here. Go find my sister and tell her to come save me."
Neither of his friends looked like they knew the first thing about fighting; they were going to get themselves killed.
Ji Youming only gripped his broom tighter. The veins on the back of his hands bulged, and the muscles beneath his thick winter coat visibly tensed.
"If we leave, you'll be dead long before your sister gets here."
Hu Fengye pulled Song Qiming back behind him, his eyes locked fiercely on the eight thugs. "The youngest stays in the back. Get ready... we charge on my mark."
The lead masked man sneered. "You really think we're a bunch of pushovers? Get them! Cripple all three of them!"
