Zeng Yong, leader of the Salt Gang, thought for a moment. This man relies on his strength and comes to provoke us. We can't keep holding back forever. Since the other side had suggested fighting two against one, there was no shame in accepting. He shouted, "So you bully others with your skill? Zeng Qiang—let's test his strength together!"Indeed, as the saying goes: To fight a tiger, brothers must unite; to go to war, father and son must stand side by side.
The two men raised their palms in unison, sending fierce winds howling through the air as they attacked from front and back. Zeng Yong's left palm thrust forward, while Zeng Qiang's right hand chopped down in a flash. But Thunder Hand Ge Long drew a circle with his right palm, deflecting Zeng Yong's push, spun around gracefully, and slid past him. Shifting his stance, he sent a slanting strike toward Zeng Qiang. His movement technique—fluid and unpredictable—combined offense and defense in one. Despite the sudden two-on-one assault, the father and son gained no advantage.
The Salt Gang members watching expected their leader and deputy to subdue the intruder within a few moves. Surely, they thought, even if the man wasn't killed, he'd at least be severely injured. Yet, to their shock, Ge Long not only held his ground but fought evenly against both.
Within moments, the three had exchanged over ten fierce blows. Though Zeng Yong and Zeng Qiang attacked together, their palms could not touch Ge Long. His "Thunder Palm Technique" was a blur of feints and real strikes, unpredictable and deadly. Suddenly—bang!—their palms clashed. The father and son staggered backward seven or eight steps, nearly losing balance.
Ge Long laughed wildly. "Still so stubborn when death is near? I'll ask one last time—will the Salt Gang join our side or not?"
Cold sweat beaded on Zeng Yong's brow. His face had gone pale. "The Salt Gang," he said through clenched teeth, "has long declared neutrality. I advise both sides to act with restraint and stop pressing us further."
Ge Long's eyes gleamed coldly. "Don't say I gave you no chance. Submit now, and wealth and glory await you."
Zeng Qiang, though clearly on the brink of collapse, still managed to say, "Why must you force us? The Salt Gang only wants to mind its own trade. Whom have we offended?"
Ge Long sneered. "You two won't give up until you're dead. Enough talk—time to send you both to the Western Paradise!"
Hearing this, Zeng Yong's hair stood on end, a chill creeping up his spine. Not good, he thought. Ge Long's Thunder Palm is unmatched—once he strikes, the Salt Gang will be doomed.
The Salt Gang members grew anxious, fear written across their faces. Just then, a cold voice rang out from behind Ge Long:"Thunder Hand Ge Long—your words are far too vicious."
The speaker was unseen, but the voice alone froze the air. Ge Long spun around in alarm, wary of an ambush. Out of the crowd stepped a young man—no more than twenty. Ge Long exhaled in relief, thinking, So it's just a kid. Still… strange. He appeared behind me without a sound—his skill must be extraordinary.
He barked, "Who are you? This matter doesn't concern you—stay out of it!"
At first, Zeng Yong couldn't see the youth's face clearly. But as Ge Long spoke, realization struck—his eyes widened with joy."Master Wu Tong, leader of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness! What wind brings you here? Why have you come to the Salt Gang?"
To him, it was like drowning in the sea and suddenly seeing a plank drift by—he clung to it at once.
Wu Tong clasped his hands politely. "Leader Zeng, it's been a long time."
Ge Long's expression hardened. So this is the famed Wu Tong! He scowled. "Ah, the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness… and what, you think I'm in your way?"
Wu Tong smiled faintly. "The Salt Gang spoke politely and acted with respect, yet you repaid them with cruelty. Don't you think that's excessive?"
Ge Long froze—those were nearly his own earlier words thrown back at him. His face darkened with fury. "So you're here to cause trouble after all!"
Wu Tong met his glare calmly. "I merely stand against injustice. The Salt Gang only seeks an honest living. You've smashed their pots and bowls and still threaten to send them to the afterlife—how is that righteous?"
Ge Long let out a cold laugh. "They say the leader of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness is a skilled man. Let's see if that's true!"
Before his words even faded, Ge Long leapt forward, lightning-fast, his palm surging with power like a crashing wave.
Wu Tong swiftly executed "Southward and Northward," one of the Eight Cloud Hands. His body slid aside, steps light and graceful as a drifting cloud. The onlookers gasped in admiration at his elegant, fluid motion.
Ge Long thought, So he can block my Thunder Palm… impressive. Despite his arrogance, he now felt a flicker of caution—Wu Tong's reputation was clearly deserved.
Wu Tong steadied himself, eyes sharp as lightning. "Ge Long, your Thunder Palm may be fierce, but it cannot defeat me. The Salt Gang has done no wrong. If you persist in your bullying, don't blame me for striking back."
Ge Long's face darkened. Though wary, he refused to back down. "Wu Tong, you may be famous, but I'm not one to fear. Let's see if your skill matches your name!"
With a roar, he charged again, both palms striking like thunderbolts. Wu Tong moved with calm precision, his steps light as willow leaves in the wind, effortlessly dodging each blow. Their strikes clashed in a storm of power, palm winds howling through the hall as the duel raged—so fierce that every onlooker held their breath, torn between fear and awe at the young hero's astounding skill.