CHAPTER 63: PARANOID

Lin Fan was backed into a corner—literally and figuratively.

Three hostile disciples surrounded him, voices rising, postures aggressive.

His hands were already clenched, ready to fight.

Bruised from earlier, he didn’t care.

He wasn’t about to let anyone push him around.

But just before he lunged in, he saw salvation.

Or at least... a fat silhouette waddling into view.

Lin Fan’s eyes lit up:

’Perfect!’

Without a second thought, he raised his arm and dramatically pointed toward the figure now peeking around the corner.

"You want to mess with me? Then you have to mess with us!" Lin Fan shouted loud enough to shake dust from the bricks.

All three bullies blinked, momentarily stunned.

Their heads slowly turned to follow Lin Fan’s outstretched finger.

Standing there was a very confused, very round, Zhao Chun.

"...Me?" Zhao Chun asked, pointing at himself with a stunned expression.

His eyes darted from Lin Fan to the three goons and back again.

But seeing the situation—three against one, and the lone disciple clearly injured—he felt his inner sense of justice stir.

He let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping:

’I just wanted to check it out... but fine.’

Straightening up, Zhao Chun stepped forward, planting himself beside Lin Fan like a wall of pudding.

"I think it’s best if you three beat it," he said firmly, arms crossed.

The air shifted slightly. The three bullies hesitated, eyes scanning Zhao Chun’s robes.

"...You’re an inner disciple too," one of them scoffed:

"What’s this? Fatty’s trying to play hero?"

"Careful," another muttered. "I think he’s with the Saint. I saw him talk with him... Might want to keep our teeth."

That gave them just enough pause.

Lin Fan blinked, clearly surprised Zhao Chun had gone along with it.

’Wait, that worked?’

However, one word echoed in Lin Fan’s head like a hammer striking a bell:

"Saint."

The moment one of the bullies muttered it, his eyes sharpened and immediately zeroed in on the man beside him—Zhao Chun.

’Wait... Hei Long? This guy knows him?’

His thoughts twisted into suspicion.

That one word was enough to turn his momentary relief into icy distrust.

’Could this be a trap? Did Hei Long send him? A fat bastard spy in disguise?’

Lin Fan clenched his fists slightly tighter, keeping his guard up, though he didn’t let it show.

For now, he wouldn’t speak. Not until he figured out what was really going on.

Meanwhile, Zhao Chun was still riding the high of his successful intervention.

He stood firm, chest puffed out, looking—at least in his mind—like a heroic figure straight out of a cultivation tale.

"Tch. If you’re not guilty, why are you hesitating?" he said.

The three inner disciples hesitated for a second longer—glancing at each other nervously.

Finally, one of them bowed his head slightly.

"...You’re right. We apologize."

They turned tail and bolted, not wanting to risk getting into trouble with someone who might be connected to the Saint.

Better to live and stew in resentment than get publicly humiliated or worse.

As their footsteps faded into the distance—

Zhao Chun rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"There we go. All sorted." He turned to Lin Fan, giving a thumbs-up:

"You should be in the clear now. Just... try to stay out of trouble, alright? No need to go picking fights with those bastards."

"..." Lin Fan didn’t respond. He didn’t even nod.

His eyes remained fixed on Zhao Chun, a quiet intensity behind them:

’Is this all some setup by Hei Long? Or am I just being paranoid?’

Either way, he knew one thing for certain—he couldn’t trust anyone right now.

Just as Zhao Chun turned to leave, a familiar figure peeked around the corner—

Liu Yifei, her expression a mix of worry and curiosity.

"I saw three guys run off just now..." she said quietly, stepping closer:

"I was worried something might’ve happened to you."

Though she was mostly concerned that losing Zhao Chun might cut her off from her access to the Saint, her words still hit the big guy right in the heart.

Zhao Chun’s eyes watered immediately.

"Y-You really are... an amazing girlfriend!" he sniffled, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

He moved in for a hug, but Liu Yifei quickly raised her hand like a stop sign.

Zhao Chun froze, then laughed awkwardly:

"Haha... right, right. No hugs in public. You’re just modest, that’s all."

Liu Yifei rolled her eyes with a sigh:

"Anyway... who’s that guy?"

She pointed ahead, and Zhao Chun turned just in time to see Lin Fan striking his best cool guy pose, slicking his hair back with a grin.

"Hey," Lin Fan said, voice low and confident:

"The name’s Lin Fan..."

That was all Zhao Chun needed to hear.

His eyes widened.

A cold sweat ran down his back as Hei Long’s earlier warning echoed in his mind:

"Be careful of that guy, Brother Zhao. Lin Fan? He’s the kind who’d hit on anything that breathes. Friend, stranger, girlfriend—doesn’t matter. He’ll try to steal her."

Zhao Chun’s gaze darted from Lin Fan... to Liu Yifei... and back to Lin Fan, who was very clearly checking her out.

He didn’t even blink!

He’s already undressing her with his eyes!

Zhao Chun clenched his fists:

"You bastard!!"

Before Lin Fan could react—

Zhao Chun launched a powerful kick into his gut.

"GUHH—!"

Lin Fan’s body launched backward, flying into a nearby wall with a CRACK! that echoed through the alley.

Blood sprayed from his lips as he crumpled to the ground, groaning in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Lin Fan coughed out, dazed and in pain.

"Don’t ’Hey’ me like you’re some gentleman!" Zhao Chun snapped, standing over him:

"You thought I wouldn’t notice the way you were eyeing my girlfriend?!"

"I—I was just introducing myself!" Lin Fan protested.

Liu Yifei blinked in mild surprise... then took another step back:

"He did seem kinda creepy..."

Zhao Chun crossed his arms with a loud HMPH:

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

"What is wrong with you!?" As Lin Fan curled up on the ground groaning—

Zhao Chun turned to Liu Yifei with a big smile:

"Come on, let’s go. The air around this guy is probably cursed."