In the end, Wen Wen didn’t step in personally, probably because Ji Jue pleaded and submitted too quickly. After taking just a couple of hits to the head, he collapsed to the ground crying and didn’t get up. Beating him up when he was in that state gave no sense of achievement at all.0

In the end, Mr. Zhang took over.0

Mr. Zhang was ninety-seven years old, with a very ordinary, common name: Zhang Daqiang[1]. Judging by the photos on his phone fifty years ago, his name was literal. He had truly been big and strong!0

Back then, at over forty, Mr. Zhang was in his prime. His body was brimming with firm, bulky muscles. All oiled up and standing under stage lights, he flexed his arms slightly, each muscle coiling like steel wire ready to burst forth.0

He was basically a walking, breathing Devil Muscle Man[2]. Now, he claimed his prime was over. Age had sapped his strength, and he looked like any other wiry old man in Cliff City with a tank top, baggy shorts, slippers dangling from his feet, and a pair of walnuts never leaving his hands. His days were spent tending flowers and grass, emphasizing longevity above all else.0

“So don’t be afraid,” he said. “We’re friends, just talk to me as if I’m your peer.”0

Ji Jue didn’t trust him for a second.0

If he was truly just an ordinary health-conscious old man, how could he maneuver...0