Ahead, a burly enemy with a face full of jowls gripped a large axe in both hands and hacked viciously at Liang Song’s back. He Chenguang felt a jolt of alarm; he quickened his pace and reached the enemy’s side in an instant. With a sharp shout, he raised his arm high, his iron rod tracing a fierce arc through the air. The arc moved like a meteor across the night sky, accompanied by a piercing whistle as it struck the enemy’s wrist with precision. A muffled "crack," like the sound of snapping bone, echoed out as the enemy’s wrist took the heavy blow. The axe immediately lost its trajectory and clattered to the ground. The enemy’s face went deathly pale from the sudden pain, cold sweat pouring down his forehead as he grimaced, screamed, and scrambled backward while clutching his injured wrist.
At that moment, two more enemies flanked them from either side—one wielding a long blade, the other a short club—attempting to box He Chenguang in. Calm under pressure, He Chenguang tilted his body slightly, cleverly evading the edge of the long blade. He then spun around instantly, his iron rod darting out like a serpent from its hole to strike the knee of the enemy with the club. With a dull "thud," the rod landed squarely on the kneecap. The enemy’s leg buckled as if struck by a heavy hammer, and he collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain, clutching his knee as his face contorted in agony and he let out a pig-like howl.
In the heat of the fray, He Chenguang shouted, "Keep up, ever…
Chapter 372