"Understood!"

"You two... flank them! You must kill them before they reach the airport!" Lihun knew clearly that if Qinglong and Liu Xinbei made it to the airport, trouble would ensue.

The airport was swarming with police and plainclothes officers. Especially in the last year or two, due to the high number of criminals operating in Hainan, airport security had become exceptionally tight, and the crowds made it difficult to strike decisively.

"Understood!"

Three cars immediately pursued the black sedan ahead, igniting a high-speed chase on the road. Seeing the pursuers in the rearview mirror, Liu Xinbei showed no hesitation, thrusting an arm out of the window...

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Screeeeech...

Tires grated fiercely against the asphalt, and bullets ripped through the darkness as streaks of fire, slamming into the hoods and headlights of the pursuing cars.

"Damn it! They have guns!" Lihun was furious. This was his first encounter with men from the Qing Gang, and his first time feeling so helpless, having only knives while they possessed firearms.

"What do we do now? They have guns, and they're driving; we'll have a very hard time catching them," the driver from the Xiaoyao Sect asked.

Crack—Thwack—Boom!

The bizarre gunfire only fueled Lihun's rage. "Hmph!" With a cold snort, Lihun shouted to his men, "Flank them and ram them off the road!"

"Whoa, this is a real show! These guys are seriously unhinged!" Fatty Lin, sitting in Yang Yi's passenger seat, exclaimed with an excited expression.

"The best part is yet to come; let's get ahead of them first!" Yang Yi smiled faintly, pressed the accelerator, and sent their entire car hurtling down another stretch of pavement.

Those two fellows—they thought Qinglong and Liu Xinbei were headed straight for Hainan Airport, but who would have expected them to suddenly appear on a parallel track, driving while observing this spectacle that even movies would struggle to replicate?

"Bang! Bang!"

At this moment, the cars chasing Qinglong were closing in. The Xiaoyao Sect men swiftly coordinated a collision maneuver against Qinglong's car, sandwiching it precisely between them.

"Damn it!" Qinglong felt a danger like never before. He immediately jammed his foot down, straining to break free from the crushing pressure of the two flanking cars and overtake them.

But the drivers of the two surrounding cars were clearly no fools; they kept Qinglong firmly locked in place. The three vehicles screeched down the avenue leading to the airport, leaving behind streaks of friction, piercing noises, and an overwhelmingly noxious blue smoke.

"Old Liu!" Qinglong exclaimed urgently.

Liu Xinbei understood instantly. He raised his hand, and gunfire followed. "Screeeeech!!!"

"Boom!" A bullet shattered the windshield to Qinglong's left and shot directly toward the car pinning them in.

"Whew!!! So thrilling, just barely missed it! Hahaha!" Fatty Lin watched the heart-stopping scene, amazed that this shameless fellow could still laugh.

Yang Yi, driving on the side, paid it no mind, maintaining an unnervingly calm expression, occasionally glancing sideways, mostly focused on the road ahead. If any police officer had been present, they surely would have demanded, ‘Sir, are you aware you are driving in the wrong direction?’

The situation continued to escalate, growing more intense. Sparks flew as the cars repeatedly scraped against each other. Those inside were most affected; the passenger could feel the crushing force of the impact that the driver registered, almost jarring their souls loose.

Suddenly, the three cars in the lead began to sway violently from side to side. In less than half a minute, a resounding "CRUNCH!" echoed.

"Bad!" Qinglong clearly felt the chassis of his car twist slightly under the relentless pressure he was applying to the steering wheel.

"Smash!" The car on the right slammed into them forcefully.

"Brake!" The car on the left executed a sharp stop.

"Quick, ram the right side of their car!" Lihun seemed to spot the perfect opening and immediately commanded.

"Brake!" The pursuing car accelerated slightly before braking hard, causing the vehicle to swerve sharply to the right, precisely clipping the corner of Qinglong’s car, which resulted in a dull thud...

Boom... Boom... Bang!

The three cars came to a halt simultaneously—no, to be precise, four cars, as Yang Yi's silver-white vehicle had also stopped not far behind them.

"Heh heh, showtime," Yang Yi muttered with a sinister smile, his gaze fixed sharply on the distance.

"Out of the cars!"

Lihun opened his door and leaped out in a fluid motion. Qinglong and Liu Xinbei, up front, were clearly not going to stay put; their agility was also more than adequate.

Now free of the vehicles, they bolted toward a densely wooded area nearby.

"Ha... ha! Hooooh!"

Deep, ragged breaths escaped the mouths of Qinglong and Liu Xinbei. Liu Xinbei gasped, "Gang Leader, what do we do? They won't stop chasing us...!"

"Faster, we're almost there! The airport is just ahead. Once we reach it, we won't have to worry." Qinglong felt, for the first time, a desperate reliance on the airport—specifically, on the police presence there, because neither the Xiaoyao Sect men nor anyone else would dare engage in a major confrontation once inside the airport grounds.

Unfortunately, Qinglong may have severely underestimated martial artists, especially those steeped in the traditions of ancient sects.

"Cloud Ascending Steps!"

"Don't make a fuss; this isn't some supreme martial art. Every major sect has its own techniques. If you get the chance later, go take a look inside the Xuanmen," Yang Yi remarked, rolling his eyes as Fatty Lin expressed astonishment at the lightness skill Lihun and his men were employing.

"Really? They truly have every martial art?" Fatty Lin asked softly.

"Hmm? Well, not every martial art. For instance, they might have a version of the Shaolin Seventy-Two Ultimate Techniques, but those legendary skills like the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, Six Meridian Divine Swords, or Great Heavenly Shift—those kinds of ultimate skills are absent. But most ordinary ones, yes," Yang Yi mused, recalling information as he spoke.

"Damn, Brother Yi, you have to take me to Xuanmen someday!" Fatty Lin didn't care much about the specific names of the arts Yang Yi mentioned; only the possibility of seeing the Seventy-Two Ultimate Techniques of Shaolin sparked his interest!

"Alright... no problem. Consider it compensation for tonight's events," Yang Yi said with a faint smile. He certainly intended to let Fatty Lin study the complete Shaolin secret manuals someday.

Indeed, the Muscle Tendon Changing Classic, the Flower Plucking Finger, the Indestructible Vajra Body, and the set of Flying Dagger techniques Fatty Lin was slowly mastering recently were all fundamentally derived from variations of Shaolin martial arts lore. It was hard to say what Yang Yi's true long-term goals were.

In truth, Yang Yi didn't know himself. Many, many years from now—how many, he couldn't say—but at a time when he himself was decades old and entering fatherhood, Fatty Lin would become the primary martial arts tutor for his son. These were matters neither of them realized at the moment, so they were best left unspoken for now.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Six or seven figures suddenly surrounded Qinglong and Liu Xinbei. The pair immediately sensed danger, their expressions tense, their eyes sharply fixed on the six or seven assailants.

"Qinglong, I told you, did you really think you could escape?" Lihun narrowed his eyes.

"Hmph! Lihun, don't think you can deal with us so easily either!" Qinglong coldly snorted. There was a time when Lihun wouldn't have dared wear such an expression in front of him; this felt truly like the moment a tiger descends into the plains only to be bullied by dogs.

"Qinglong, I'll give you one last chance. Where is my young master hidden?" Lihun demanded coldly.

"Hmph, no comment!" As soon as Qinglong finished speaking, he and Liu Xinbei exchanged a look, and both opened fire simultaneously.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Swish! Swish! The figures dodged and weaved, showing no fear of the bullets. Martial artists were always inherently confident, but against true power, bullets were merely a contest of speed against the warrior.

"Since you’re so eager to die, I'll grant your wish. Kill them!"

Peeeow!

Upon hearing Lihun’s command, the Xiaoyao Sect men immediately drew their own weapons—grotesque blades shaped vaguely like crescent moons or sickles. Blade light flashed, enhanced by the moonlight, suddenly invoking the saying, ‘A dark and windy night is perfect for murder.’

Bang! Bang! Bang! The gunfire continued, but Qinglong and Liu Xinbei were forced to evade, as the speed of the Xiaoyao Sect martial artists was simply too great; the bullets couldn't even touch them.

"The footwork of these people is truly... bizarre," Fatty Lin muttered as he watched.

"It seems this grand show is nearing its end. It's becoming dull; the gap in skill is like the difference between heaven and earth," Yang Yi observed the constantly shifting figures. Qinglong and Liu Xinbei could only fire blindly while desperately trying to dodge the attacks of those bizarre blades by capitalizing on the brief pauses in their enemies' movements.