Chapter 27: The Guilty System Wrings Its Hands

Just as Jiang Xiaxia was about to ask her uncle what the object inside was, a cold glint suddenly erupted. A dagger shot out from the lounge like a bolt of lightning.

Jiang Xiaxia’s expression shifted instantly; her once-puzzled eyes became as sharp as a hawk’s. Her reaction was lightning-fast. She shoved Jiang Jing’s shoulder, and using that momentum, she sprang up like a coiled spring. In the same motion, she twisted her waist mid-air, delivered a fierce kick to an unknown object, and used the force to arc through the air, darting straight toward the direction from which the dagger had come.

"Xiaxia!"

The moment Jiang Jing was shoved aside, he watched in horror as the dagger flew directly toward the girl. A chill surged from the soles of his feet to his scalp, his heart nearly stopping in terror as he roared, "Xiaxia!"

Jiang Xiaxia, however, seemed not to hear him. There was no fear on her face; she merely tilted her head slightly. The dagger, trailing a cold gust of wind, whistled past her, grazing her head and shearing off a few strands of her blonde hair. Her momentum didn't falter; she remained like a small cannonball fired from a chamber, crashing directly into the person who had thrown the blade.

With a heavy "thud," the man in the lounge was knocked to the floor by Jiang Xiaxia. She quickly whirled around to face the woman hiding in the room. Just as the woman prepared to strike, a large hand shot out and clamped onto her wrist.

A sharp *crack* echoed through the room, like the snapping of an icicle. With her wrist bone dislocated, the woman’s face turned deathly pale, and her captured hand hung limply at her side. Yet, a fierce glint flashed in her eyes. With her other hand, she whipped out a second dagger from behind her back, aiming once more for Jiang Jing’s face.

Jiang Jing shifted his weight with a light step, dodging the strike with a side-step. He instantly grabbed the woman’s shoulder and performed a clean, decisive shoulder throw. The woman’s body arced through the air and hit the carriage wall with a dull thud, sliding down to the floor, limp and unconscious.

Watching her uncle’s fluid movements, Jiang Xiaxia clapped her small hands excitedly. "Uncle, you're amazing!"

Seeing the little girl sitting atop the unconscious man, Jiang Jing was still shaken by what he had just witnessed. He strode over, his heart still pounding with lingering rage and fear. He reached out, grabbed the little girl, and smacked her bottom twice. "What were you doing back there? You saw a blade and ran straight into it! Are you tired of living, or are you trying to scare me to death?"

Jiang Xiaxia clutched her bottom, her little eyes filled with confusion and grievance. The moment she saw the dagger fly, she had already calculated its trajectory in her mind—there was absolutely no way she would have been hit! She pouted, aggrieved. But hearing the frantic thumping of Jiang Jing’s heart, she knew he was worried about her, so she obediently admitted her fault: "I'm sorry!"

*Next time, I’ll just knock Uncle unconscious instead of pushing him away. That way, I can save him too, right?*

Jiang Jing couldn't read the girl's mind, but seeing her hang her little head, looking as if she were only feigning regret and would do it again, the veins on his forehead throbbed. He raised his hand, intending to discipline her further.

Realizing the danger, Jiang Xiaxia grabbed his hand and pointed to a dry, bundle-wrapped object nearby, from which bits of white bone and blackened flesh were visible. "What is that?"

Jiang Jing suddenly remembered what he had seen the moment he pushed open the lounge door. It was a man, slowly taking off his coat to reveal a corpse strapped to his back!

With a headache, Jiang Jing looked at the two corpses scattered on the floor. He carried Jiang Xiaxia to the side, checked on the knocked-out train attendant, and then pried open the bundle. When he saw what was inside, he sighed—tomb robbers, just as he suspected.

With the current crackdowns across the country, market regulations had naturally loosened. Even if these two were turned in, they wouldn't receive a heavy sentence for the artifacts alone. However, judging by their combat skills, they likely had blood on their hands. If the investigation focused on that, they could definitely be put away for good.

Just as he was thinking this, the train police officer, having finished his rounds, returned. Seeing the scene, he shouted, "Who’s there? Come out!"

Jiang Jing walked out carrying Jiang Xiaxia and, seeing the officer pointing a gun at him, immediately produced his identification. "Comrade, I came over here to ask a question and happened to catch these two knocking out the train attendant! That’s why I stepped in to subdue them."

Once the officer verified Jiang Jing’s identity, he rushed inside to revive the attendant. After hearing the account, the officer looked at Jiang Jing with gratitude. "Comrade soldier, thank you so much! Our colleague, Officer Xie, said this man disguised himself as an elderly cleaning staff member. She felt the scent on him was strange, and since he was cleaning while the train was in motion, she followed him, only to stumble upon their meeting! If it weren't for you, they might have harmed her after their handover."

Jiang Jing nodded slightly. "It’s best to tie them up. They have some combat skills, and I suspect they have murder cases on their records. When we reach the next station, have the Public Security Bureau take them into custody."

"Yes, of course!" The officer and his colleague hurried to secure the pair.

Jiang Jing put Jiang Xiaxia down and walked over to the withered corpse, intending to uncover the white cloth. But just as his hand reached out, a small hand slapped his away.

Jiang Xiaxia set her little face in a stern expression and glared at him. "It’s dirty. Don't touch it!"

*How can my uncle have so little survival awareness?* If he touched that thing, would he turn into a zombie in front of her eyes? According to the data in her mind, many of the viruses extracted by humans in the apocalypse were harvested from corpses.

Jiang Jing didn't understand her concerns. Seeing her little face set in a stern, scolding expression, he laughed. "What’s dirty about a dead body? When I was on the battlefield, I flipped over plenty of enemy corpses!"

Seeing him reach out again, Jiang Xiaxia was so angry she headbutted his waist. Watching him stumble and sit on the floor, the little girl folded her arms and huffed, "If you don't listen, I'm telling Grandma!"

*This thing has been dead for who knows how long—how can you compare it to a fresh one?*

The train officer, who had finished securing the lounge, looked at the pair and, suppressing a laugh, handed Jiang Jing a handkerchief. "Comrade, you’d better wipe your face."

"Wipe my face?" Jiang Jing looked at him, confused.

Beside him, Jiang Xiaxia couldn't help but look down at her own small feet. Her aura deflated, and she guiltily took a few steps back.