The visibility in the rain isn’t very good.
But a big living person is standing in the middle of the road waving his hand.
With the help of the headlights, Zhang Feng can still see him.
"Could it be a robbery?"
Xiaolin also sees the man waving from tens of ters away.
"If it is, we can’t avoid it..."
Zhang Feng steadies the steering wheel with one hand, and pulls out the steel pipe from under the seat slightly with the other.
"If they’re robbers, there must be others nearby, scattering spikes or sothing ahead.
So, since we can’t avoid it, let’s take this person as a hostage first.
The premise is, he’s indeed a robber."
Zhang Feng has been in the martial world for many years and understands that the road bandits nowadays are ruthless, but not like border desperadoes who would watch their companions in soone’s hands, then still shoot recklessly.
If they were truly that fierce, they wouldn’t be robbing.
They’d go directly to the border for burning, killing and looting, then extort drug lords; it’s faster money.
"Take him as a hostage..." Hearing such violent words, Xiaolin suddenly finds Brother Zhang very unfamiliar.
He doesn’t seem to be the honest and simple person throughout their journey.
But if they truly encounter danger, Xiaolin knows this is the best plan.
"I’ll listen to Brother Zhang..." Xiaolin also pulls out a steel pipe from under the seat and grips it tightly with both hands.
Zhang Feng glances at him, "Put it down, don’t hold it up."
"Why?" Xiaolin asks, then guesses on his own: "Is Brother Zhang afraid they’ll be prepared if they see it?"
"Not afraid of being seen by others." Zhang Feng keeps his eyes on the man ahead, getting closer and closer, "But in case there’s a pit ahead, or if we need to brake suddenly.
You might hit yourself before others hit you."
"Uh..." Xiaolin understands and soon puts down the steel pipe.
Sigh—
Then Zhang Feng, under Xiaolin’s sowhat nervous gaze, stops the car ten ters in front of the man.
"Thank you, master, thank you, master!"
The man drenched in rain bows his hands repeatedly, then walks towards Zhang Feng.
anwhile,
Zhang Feng watches his steps and realizes this man is sowhat skilled!
His martial arts should be slightly weaker than drug smugglers’.
’Really a level 2 world, you can et people with martial arts skills anywhere.’
Zhang Feng isn’t too panicked with a few thoughts.
With a steel pipe under the seat and his own overclocking burst.
Even if the drug dealers co, one swing of the pipe and they are done, even faster and more directly than before.
But judging by his slightly chubby, affable face and the ordinary sportswear of the tis.
Zhang Feng observes him for a few monts and feels he doesn’t fit the bandit leader’s image.
Instead, he truly looks like the ’soaked martial artist’ stopping the car.
Once the man reaches the hood of the car.
"Get on from the passenger side." Zhang Feng directs him to the passenger seat.
At the sa ti, Zhang Feng looks at the slightly nervous Xiaolin, "Steel pipe and you both go to the back, hide under the seat."
"Okay..." Xiaolin swiftly moves and places the steel pipe at his feet.
"Excuse , excuse ." The man cos to the passenger seat, sees the door open, and instead of getting right in, he adeptly, without feeling awkward, takes off all his soaked clothes.
In a few seconds, he’s left with just one pair of red shorts.
Then he holds the wet clothes and steps onto the car step.
"Sorry about this." He doesn’t sit on the chair, but stands at the door squeezing water from his shorts, and asks:
"Do you have an old towel and a plastic bag? To cover the seat, my shorts are wet too.
This can’t be wrung dry; it’d be bad to get your seat wet."
As he says this, he humorously continues, "Mr. driver graciously gave a ride, if I now carelessly sit down, it’s not what a real man should do."
"Pfft..." Xiaolin sees the man’s plight and genuine words, and can’t hold back a laugh.
"Sit down, we all face inconveniences when going out." Zhang Feng takes out a towel, "Don’t cover it, just wipe yourself and your hair, it’s late autumn, don’t catch a cold."
"Thank you, master." The man takes the towel, wipes himself a bit, then reaches outside the vehicle to wring out his clothes piece by piece.
Just like an ordinary person wringing clothes.
Zhang Feng glances at him but can’t discern his exact power, because with such loose sportswear material, one piece at a ti, ordinary people can wring it out completely too.
"Sorry to trouble you, master." Once the man finishes wringing his clothes, he sits on the seat.
But doesn’t touch it directly; it’s a horse stance.
One is practicing martial arts, two is he’s afraid to wet the seat of the kind master.
’This person is quite particular.’ Zhang Feng sees the muscles bulging in his thighs and calves, and concludes he’s grounding.
"I’m Zhang Feng." Zhang Feng quite likes dealing with such people, so he first offers his na.
"Brother Zhang." The man sees Zhang Feng is much older than him, "I’m Tian Changxu, call Tianzi or Old Tian, either is fine."
He says this, then familiarly turns to Xiaolin in the back seat, "Brother, what’s your na?"
"I..." Xiaolin is about to respond politely by leaning forward slightly.
Clatter—
As he moves, the steel pipe rolls out.
Xiaolin then smiles awkwardly.
Zhang Feng doesn’t speak, sensing that Old Tian might be a seasoned person, so he probably understands the proverb ’have precautions against others but no evil intentions.’
"Whoa!" Old Tian hears the clatter of the pipe rolling and happily says: "Thanks, Brother Zhang and this brother here, for the drum and gong welco, I’m flattered, truly flattered."
He jokes and hands the steel pipe back to Xiaolin.
"Brother Tian! I’m Lin Jinggui!" Xiaolin now feels relieved of his nervousness and finds this big brother quite nice and articulate.
"Everyone sit tight." Zhang Feng then shifts the gear again, steps on the gas, and while looking ahead, asks, "Old Tian, where are you headed?"
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