C179 Ding Ding Ding

Ding Zhaoyun had a sarcastic expression on his face. He didn't even look at his opponent.

"You won't be able to see through my flaws. You have indeed performed very well. He was very serious, very natural, and very engrossed. Unfortunately, among the hundred or so people, I saw you at first glance. Perhaps it was because your performance was too outstanding, too outstanding... It's also a kind of sorrow in itself!"

The assassin leader was angered by his words. "Don't be complacent and arrogant. Today, you can be considered lucky. Don't think that you can jump around for long. I..."

It was simply too rude. The leader of the assassins only said half of his words. Ding Zhaoyun had already answered him with his fist. It was a straight punch. It was not fancy at all and did not seem to have many techniques. It hit his opponent in the head, and the rest of his words went back into his stomach. He would never be able to say a word again.

He didn't know whether his own name or some other force would follow behind the word "I." In short, with the death of the last assassin, this assassination had become an unsolved case. No one knew the origin of these assassins and the reason for their assassination.

The people of the White Horse Battalion had already skillfully dragged all the assassins away and buried them. Their own people, including those who had lost their lives, had also withdrawn. Some people had dug up the dirt that was stained with blood and washed the dirty stone boards.

In the blink of an eye, the entire street was restored to its original state. After a while, the bold pedestrians would return to the streets. The noisy peddling sounds would resound, and everything that had just happened would seem as if it had been a lifetime ago.

In this chaotic world, people were as lowly as dogs, and the deaths of more than ten people were extremely common in the eyes of the world. Only the teahouse that had collapsed by half seemed to have opened its huge mouth. It was narrating the indifference, violence, and ugliness of this world.

Ding Zhaoyun, who was still standing in the middle of the street, lowered his head slightly and looked at his right fist. This fist was his most loyal partner. Its speed was very fast. Before the opponent's muscles twisted and squeezed, the bones broke and pierced into his muscles, and blood burst out. The person was sent flying and fell into the dust.

He taught the opponent one thing. In a battle, never speak too much. No matter what, speaking would always distract one's attention.

Unfortunately, this opponent would never have the ability to learn and improve. He could only let down his good intentions.

Furthermore, he did not want to hear his opponent say that he was going to introduce himself. There was no need to know your background. He only needed to know one thing: You want my life, so I'll kill you first. It was so fair.

In the martial arts world, there were no eternal friends, and no eternal opponents. Before the assassin stupidly introduced himself, he would first help him keep the secret forever. It was also his favorite choice, as long as everything was not put on the table. Without announcing it to the world, everyone could still pretend that nothing had happened. Maybe they could even sit at a table and enjoy the wine.

Perhaps, this was the martial arts world, a martial arts world filled with blood and fire, wine and tears.

His pair of iron fists were like the iron hooves of a galloping horse, accompanying his master through thousands of mountains and rivers, passing through mountains and seas of fire, conquering numerous bloodthirsty opponents armed to the teeth. They never complained, remained silent, and never betrayed him.

Other than that nightmarish encounter, they no longer obeyed his orders. All of his pride and freedom had been taken away and trampled on. He did not even want to think about that encounter.

However, those true existences could not be destroyed no matter what.

The only things that could wash them off were blood and destruction.

Unfortunately, the former was what he had, while the latter was something he couldn't do.

Because he still had something he could not bear to part with.

Just as he was thinking about this troublesome matter, a wave of inaudible footsteps suddenly sounded from afar. The person held his breath, hid his figure, and bypassed the layers of hidden cards. He sneaked into the living room, taking advantage of the swaying of the light when a gust of wind blew past. With a flash, he hid in the shadows.

Then he moved at a very, very slow speed, even slower than the little turtle, all the way to the back of the pillar on his left side. Only then did he stop moving.

After about half an incense stick of time, taking advantage of the time when he raised his head and lightly moved his sore neck, the person finally thought that it was the best time to make a move. He thrust his sword at his left ribs.

This sword was fast and ruthless, and what was even more terrifying was that... The man did not hold back at all. He did not seem like an ordinary assassin at all. If the attack missed, he would flee a thousand miles away. There were very few assassins who were willing to risk their lives for him.

The sword wind was awe-inspiring. In the blink of an eye, it had already reached him. Only then did Ding Zhaoyun calm down. He did not make any movements. He slightly leaned his body to the side and stretched out his right thumb and index finger. With a muffled sound, the assassin's long sword was broken into two.

He heard the sound of half of the long sword falling to the ground. It was made of wood. However, judging from the fierce momentum of the sword, even if the wooden sword stabbed into his body, he would still be seriously injured if he didn't die.

The incomer was dressed in black clothes. Seeing that his sneak attack was useless, his long sword was broken again. He did not turn around to escape, but instead threw the broken sword in his hand onto the ground. He threw a punch at Ding Zhaoyun's throat with his right hand. Along the way, his fist turned into a finger. His attack was extremely ruthless.

Ding Zhaoyun didn't say anything. When his opponent's fist was about to hit him, he raised his right arm. After sealing his opponent's incoming fist, the assassin's fist hit Ding Zhaoyun's arm. A muffled sound was heard. It was obvious that the strength of this punch wasn't light. However, Ding Zhaoyun did not move at all.

The assassin threw a few more punches at Ding Zhaoyun. No matter where the punches came from, they all landed on the same spot on Ding Zhaoyun's arm.

Ding Zhaoyun remained calm. The assassin finally lost his patience. He turned around and walked four feet away. He stomped on the ground and pulled the black cloth off his face, revealing the face of a young girl.

The girl looked to be about eleven or twelve years old. She was tall and slim. She had a bulging oval face, and her skin had the smell of sunlight. The freckles on her cheeks looked playful, and her big eyes were unusually lively. He looked like a lively and handsome little girl, but her skills were quite impressive.

"I'm not going to fight anymore, I'm not going to fight anymore. It's always like this every time. Why did I work so hard to practice martial arts, but I didn't make any progress at all!"

The angry look of the young girl added a bit of cuteness. She sat down on the eight-immortal chair in front of the hall, picked up the cup on the table, and drank a few mouthfuls without caring about anything.

It turned out that this girl was Ding Zhaoyun's only daughter. Her grandfather named her Ding Hui'er. Her mother, Han Zifei, was a loving couple with Ding Zhaoyun. However, when Ding Hui'er was three years old, in an ambush against Ding Zhaoyun, Han Zifei was unfortunately seriously injured and died. Only Ding Hui'er was left with her father.

Ding Zhaoyun never married again, and he loved his little daughter even more.

Han Zifei gave Ding Hui'er a nickname called Ding Ding. In order to commemorate her mother, Ding Hui'er had only asked people to call her "Ding Dingding." Ding Hui'er's name was rarely used.