Chapter 28 Another Petal Falls

Huang Xiansheng reversed his grip on the dagger, slashing to the right and carving a deep gash in a team member’s waist. He followed up with a powerful elbow to another’s abdomen. Without missing a beat, his left shoulder rammed like a battering ram into the chest of the teammate behind him, instantly breaking the encirclement.

Supporting himself against the alley wall with one hand, he vaulted up like a gecko, darting along several steps to finally escape the siege.

At that moment, Ning Zhiheng and his men had blocked off the mouth of the alley, arriving just in time to witness Huang Xiansheng’s seamless escape—clean and decisive!

Inwardly, Ning Zhiheng marveled. What remarkable skill—so many operatives lying in ambush, yet Huang Xiansheng managed to injure one and slip away.

Truthfully, this was partly due to Ning Zhiheng’s own orders. No matter how skilled Huang Xiansheng was, escaping unscathed from six agile operatives was impossible. But before the operation, Ning Zhiheng had instructed that they must capture him alive; thus, none of the men had used their firearms. Even during the fight, they held back, which unexpectedly gave Huang Xiansheng the chance to wield his dagger and injure a teammate.

With veterans like Huang Xiansheng, any lapse could have catastrophic consequences.

Now, having broken free, Huang Xiansheng rushed toward the alley’s entrance. Seeing Ning Zhiheng and his men blocking the exit, he gritted his teeth, showing no hesitation, and charged straight at Ning Zhiheng.

He had no choice—when two paths cross, the brave prevail. He could only force his way through.

Before Ning Zhiheng could act, a team member beside him darted forward. After all, Ning Zhiheng was the captain; there was no need for him to personally confront such a desperate foe.

This operative was not unarmed, having noticed Huang Xiansheng’s dagger, he quickly raised his leg, drew a short blade from his calf, and lunged at Huang Xiansheng with a direct thrust.

The two men crossed paths, their gleaming daggers clashing with crisp, metallic sounds. In mere seconds, their blades met countless times, sparks flying with each collision, dazzling the onlookers.

Ning Zhiheng was astonished by the scene before him.

Honestly, in these ten short days, his impression of his operatives had not been favorable—certainly not as he had imagined. In their first operation days ago, eight men were killed or wounded—six dead, two injured—a devastating loss.

These so-called military elites hadn’t shown the combat prowess they should have. In the end, it was Ning Zhiheng himself who captured Fu Cheng.

He had harbored a hidden disdain for these so-called elite troops. Yet today’s events made him realize he had underestimated them.

The six operatives at first were swift and coordinated, overwhelming Huang Xiansheng, leaving him unable to defend. Only because they held back, avoiding lethal strikes, did he find an opportunity.

Now, the operative dueling Huang Xiansheng was even more formidable. His dagger movements were simple and direct—lunging, twisting, stabbing. Every action was efficient, delivering the most violent attack in the shortest possible time.

Ning Zhiheng knew that if he himself had to withstand such attacks, he wouldn’t be able to hold out.

Huang Xiansheng was no different; within seconds, he was stabbed twice. His opponent had avoided his vital points, refraining from killing blows.

Clearly, in this close-quarters fight, Huang Xiansheng was at a disadvantage.

The operative fighting him, however, remained unscathed, clearly a cut above Huang Xiansheng in skill.

Huang Xiansheng didn’t wish to linger—his goal was to break out and escape, not to duel to the death. Brief contact had made it clear he was no match for his opponent.

His left shoulder had taken two stabs; though not deep and not in vital spots, the wounds bled profusely. If he lingered, his strength would soon wane, making escape impossible.

As he brushed past, he drew near Ning Zhiheng. Feigning a move, he suddenly spun and stabbed at Ning Zhiheng.

But Ning Zhiheng was ready—rather than retreat, he advanced, his left hand swiftly pushing away the incoming dagger, his hips and torso thrusting forward, slamming into Huang Xiansheng’s side.

At the same time, a powerful elbow struck Huang Xiansheng’s ribs, the force so great that Huang Xiansheng coughed up blood.

Ning Zhiheng had studied close-quarters combat at the military academy, though his grades were mediocre. But after his body had been nourished by the green leaves of the Bodhi tree, his physical abilities soared—speed and strength rivaling those of seasoned fighters.

This gave him the confidence to face Huang Xiansheng himself. As expected, with careful planning, he dealt a heavy blow at their first contact, thrilling him with newfound confidence—his adversaries were nothing special!

But at that moment, a sudden, inexplicable fear surged in his mind—a warning of imminent danger, just as he had felt when capturing Yanagi Shukichi and preparing to throw a grenade.

Last time, he escaped in time; what about now?

This time, he was clearly late. Though Huang Xiansheng was gravely wounded, blood pouring from his mouth, his response was swift. He suppressed the pain and stifled his instinct to recoil.

His left hand clamped desperately onto Ning Zhiheng’s elbow, entwining himself tightly. In Ning Zhiheng’s shocked gaze, his right hand plunged the dagger into Ning Zhiheng’s chest with lightning speed.

He pulled out, and stabbed again—Ning Zhiheng’s chest struck twice.

Their exchange lasted only a fraction of a second, too quick for anyone else to see clearly. Huang Xiansheng traded injury for injury, decisively defeating Ning Zhiheng.

This was a textbook case of a battle-hardened veteran besting a rookie whose physical prowess matched his own. Victory lay in Huang Xiansheng’s resilience and ruthlessness, overwhelming his body's instincts with sheer willpower, seizing a fatal lapse in his opponent to trade wounds for life.

When he first charged at Ning Zhiheng, he hadn’t expected his opponent to react so quickly—the heavy blow nearly incapacitated him.

But his opponent lacked real combat experience; having never faced expert fighters, he couldn’t imagine how terrifying they could be.

Huang Xiansheng succeeded, stabbing his opponent’s chest twice, grievously wounding him—one final push and he could break through.

Ning Zhiheng, stabbed twice, felt his strength drain away, as if a balloon suddenly punctured.

Yet the warning in his mind was not entirely useless. As it sounded, Ning Zhiheng’s consciousness became sharply focused.

As the first stab landed, he endured the pain, directing his awareness into the spiritual space within his mind.

He appeared beneath the Bodhi tree, as always, but at that moment, the gentle chanting erupted into a thunderous roar, shaking his ears.

The Bodhi tree trembled violently, and the eighth newly formed green leaf dropped from the branch.

It landed on Ning Zhiheng’s infant-like projection, instantly dissolving into a jade-green liquid that merged with him.

A surge of immense life energy filled his body almost instantly.

The speed of thought in this spiritual space transcended time; though all this happened within, in reality, only a heartbeat passed.

Ning Zhiheng’s real body underwent a dramatic transformation. The wounds that should have gushed blood suddenly coagulated, the flesh writhing rapidly, healing almost as soon as the dagger withdrew.

The second stab followed, but the process was the same—upon the dagger’s exit, his flesh restored itself in an instant.

Thus, his chest bled only briefly; even before blood could seep through his torn clothes, the wounds healed in an eerie manner.

His consciousness sensed the danger had passed and quickly returned to reality, the entire process occurring in a mere instant—time seemed not to exist.

The power of the Bodhi tree was undeniable, its miraculous force manifesting wonders impossible in the real world.

It was so irrational, so unscientific—and yet, it was real!

Ning Zhiheng’s gaze toward Huang Xiansheng changed from astonishment to cold resolve, his eyes clear and unwavering.

Damn it! Was he really about to be assassinated so easily? His first confrontation with an enemy in this era, and he was eliminated?

What about protecting his loved ones through tribulation? What about a second life free of regret? Was it to end before it even began?

If not for the Bodhi tree in his spiritual space, his soul’s guardian artifact, all would have been lost!

Ning Zhiheng was furious—utterly furious!

He had led a team to ambush a single opponent, with numbers and strategy on his side, yet ended up as the chief target, nearly decapitated.

Was this not humiliating? Was this not disgraceful?

It was a slap in the face—humiliation beyond measure!

He gripped Huang Xiansheng’s wrist tightly, twisted his hips and waist, focusing all his strength into a single motion.

With a forceful wrench and a crisp crack, he snapped Huang Xiansheng’s wrist, drawing a piercing scream as the man collapsed.

Already gravely wounded, Huang Xiansheng never expected that the opponent he had stabbed twice in the heart would seem unaffected.

It was as if the vicious strikes had landed on rubber. He could clearly feel the dagger penetrate his enemy’s flesh—a sensation he’d experienced many times, never once mistaken.

Yet his opponent showed no reaction, not even bleeding.

Having suffered two minor wounds, then a devastating blow from Ning Zhiheng, Huang Xiansheng was already at the end of his rope; now, with his wrist broken, he lost all combat power, his body limp and immobile.

The capture operation was at last a success!