GODS HELPING HAND

The rain was pouring down from the heaven, then all of a sudden, a sharp lightning pierced through the sky, which was like a huge chain caught on fire and then vanished. Right in a second, an earsplitting thunder came from the sky, roaring and shaking the vast land.

After figuring out what was happening before him, Yang Ning made his choice that he was going to take the lash.

If things could be worked out by fist, then why bothered the brain?

It really pissed him off to see that a bunch of young adults were taking their rages on a ragged man, who was only able to shrink into himself so as to withstand those fierce punches and kicks.

Yang Ning was never against fights, as a matter of fact, he enjoyed punching out his rivals, however, he’d never enjoyed bullying the weak with the strong. And he would never stop thinking about what he could do to take care of those who had pissed him off.

“Stop it!” Yang Ning let out a roar, trying to make a preemptive strike and scare them off.

Yet, the roar was somewhat faint and feeble instead of loud and strong.

Fortunately, that roar of disapproval - not that earth-shattering though, did stop the crowd and draw their attention back to him.

It wasn’t until then did Yang Ning find out that these bullies were in no better shape than the guy who got bullied. They all looked messy and shabby like beggars.

“Er… Ermine!” A mop-headed young lad recognized Yang Ning and rose staggering to his feet, with an unexpected look on his face.

Yang Ning felt a little bit piece of unease crossing his body, yet he was too focused on the current situation to worry about that. He then said in a cold voice, “A man should always fight one-on-one. What’s the point of winning an unequal fight?”

The mop-head walked slowly towards Yang Ning while sizing him up, then he let out a quirky smile, saying, “You’re still alive?” He stopped in front of Yang Ning, reached out his hand and trying to pat him on the shoulder.

Yang Ning saw that the other party reached a hand out, he subconsciously protruded a hand and grabbed his wrist. Before he realized, Yang Ning moved and tied his hand behind his back. Then he pressed his arm, and there was a sound of crack. The scream of that mop-head man instantly sounded.

He was the best at this kind of empty-handed fighting. It really took no effort to remove one arm of the other party.

The mop-head man screamed, with his arm down, and he pressed against his shoulder with the other hand. He sweat a lot on his forehead, and his face became pale.

Several other guys looked at each other, and the two beggars were holding a stick respectively and approached Yang Ning.

Yang Ning smiled slightly and glanced down on the ground. There was really a wooden stick next to his feet, so he picked it up and held it in his hand.

With a loud roar, the two men waved the sticks and struck Yang Ning from the two sides.

Yang Ning sneered, and struck with the wooden stick in his hand like lightning. In his years of special training in the military, one of the subjects was to use everything as a weapon. The momentum of these two men was fierce, but in Yang Ning's eyes, it was nothing. If he were not somewhat exhausted, he could beat them easily with bare hands.

At this moment, he had a wooden stick in his hand. Therefore, of course there was no reason for him to be in the disadvantage.

With two clicks, the wooden stick swayed, and Yang Ning stepped sideways. He punched on the face of a person with his right fist, and kicked back like a scorpion between the other man's legs. The two men both screamed in pain. One locked his legs and fell down, while the other man dropped off his stick and raised his hand to cover his bleeding nose.

Yang Ning shook his head. His opponents were really not challenging, which made him feel almost no sense of achievement.

Yang Ning looked up to the front, and there was still a man holding a wooden stick, looking at him dumbly.

Yang Ning raised his arm and pointed at him with the stick, he said to the last man, "Come on, it's your turn!"

His body used to be stiffened and exhausted, but after some exercise, he was actually more comfortable.

The man looked at his companions, shaking the hand that was holding the stick. He suddenly dropped the stick on the ground, barely smiling, "Ermine, I... I won't fight with you..."

"Ermine?" Yang Ning was surprised, since it was the second time that he had heard this name, "What Ermine?" And he couldn't help but move forward with the wooden stick.

The man was shocked and saw that Yang Ning was still pointing at him, he immediately said with pity, "Ermine, this... this is not my idea. I... I am forced..." Then he raised his hand and pointed to the mop-head man whose arm was broken by Yang Ning before, "It's... It's Monkey. It's Monkey's idea..."

Yang Ning glanced at the mop-head man, he frowned and realized something. He lowered his head and glanced at himself. His face suddenly changed.

He felt strange before when he saw these people's clothes were rotten, but at this moment he found that his clothes were even worse than theirs. He was in rags and his dirty and stained skin was exposed.

He looked around. It was a very dim place surrounded by mottled walls, and there was a bonfire on the side. A crackling sound came from above his head. Yang Ning looked up and saw that the roof was covered with thatch and there were a lot of cracks. Many places were leaking raindrops.

Oh my god!

Yang Ning was sure that he was dreaming, but this dream seemed too real.