The seven people who had stolen the jackal jaws and fish were all within Wang An's line of sight.
Therefore, Wang An concluded that those who ambushed him must be another group, or a different faction of this group.
Just as Wang An's head took a blow from a club and he felt a bit dazed, he felt several more blows land rapidly on his back and thighs.
Wang An knew clearly that he had been ambushed, and that it wasn't just one person, but several.
Primarily, if a single person were swinging a club, the frequency wouldn't be this fast.
But knowing it was useless; in a fight, the worst thing is to be ambushed and knocked to the ground, especially in a one-against-many situation.
Because once you hit the ground, you simply cannot get back up. Under the suppression of a group, there truly is no opportunity to stand.
Some people might not understand, thinking that as long as they endure it, they can stand up—you must absolutely not have that idea.
First, you simply cannot endure it. Even if the opponents aren't using weapons and are only using simple fists and feet, you still can't endure it.
Secondly, even if the opponents don't hit you and just give you a nudge each, you still won't be able to stand because you can't find your center of gravity.
Finally, even if you manage to struggle up, you will quickly fall again because people are attacking you from all directions with combined force. With the strength of one person, how can you resist?
Fortunately, Wang An was currently wearing hunting gear: a cotton cap on his head, a cotton overcoat over a small cotton jacket on his upper body, thick cotton trousers on his lower body, and thick roe-skin *yeng-xue* shoes on his feet.
Overall, Wang An was dressed quite thickly.
However, despite the thick clothing, the pain was still significant. This was mainly because the tools in the opponents' hands didn't seem to be clubs, but rather hoe handles.
A hoe handle is thicker than a club and has a flat shape, so when it hits a person, its penetration is much stronger than that of a club.
Wang An knew that at a time like this, he shouldn't think about getting up; he should just lie flat and take the beating.
However, he had to protect his head, even if he was wearing a cotton cap.
Thus, Wang An wriggled forward, diving his head beneath a man's crotch, then locked his arms around the man's two legs, hiding his head entirely between the man's thighs.
He left his entire body exposed, allowing the others to swing their hoe handles and pummel him as they pleased.
To be honest, Wang An's actions at this moment were subconscious and habitual.
Due to years of fighting, Wang An knew very well how to protect himself.
Although this posture was truly embarrassing, it had to be said that it was currently the simplest and most effective method—the best way to protect one's head that Wang An had summarized through countless trials.
In Wang An's view, being embarrassed was far better than losing one's life.
Although Wang An was being beaten, he felt lucky in his heart—lucky that although it was already spring, the temperature was still very low.
Because only when the temperature is low does everyone wear cotton caps and cotton trousers.
If this were fucking summer, and he wasn't wearing a cotton cap and the opponent wasn't wearing cotton trousers, and he still dove his head into the guy's crotch...
Holy shit, how smelly would that be!
Finally, while Wang An was secretly feeling lucky and lost in thought, the opponents finally grew tired of hitting him!
Wang An didn't know exactly how many blows he had taken; there were simply too many to count.
But Wang An knew it was time for his counterattack.
Fighting is incredibly exhausting—one could say it's countless times more tiring than doing manual labor—and one-sidedly beating someone is even more tiring than a mutual fight.
Because this is pure violent output, and violent output delivered in a very short amount of time.
Wang An believed that the opponents definitely didn't have as much fighting experience as he did, meaning that while they were swinging those hoe handles at him, they definitely didn't think to hold back any strength.
So, as Wang An endured the pain throughout his body and crawled out from beneath the man's crotch, he saw a total of five people surrounding him.
One of them was slightly older and was likely the leader of the group.
As for the kid whose crotch had protected Wang An's head, he was still covering his eyes and wailing.
If he guessed correctly, one of Wang An's previous whip lashes had struck the kid's eye.
In other words, the kid might not be able to open his eye for a while; whether he would go blind was uncertain.
However, Wang An didn't care about these issues right now, because his entire backside, including his buttocks and the backs of his legs, hurt everywhere—it hurt severely.
Most importantly, Wang An was about to counterattack!
Wang An directly pulled out his Type 54 pistol, chambered a round in one smooth motion, and pointed it at the five panting men.
Seeing the gun in Wang An's hand, the five men were immediately intimidated and instinctively retreated.
Seeing this, Wang An bared his teeth and glared, scanning them one by one, and the five men immediately dared not move.
While pointing the gun at the five men, Wang An squatted down to pick up the horse whip he had dropped on the ground.
But this squat was no small matter; Wang An almost sat right down on the ground, unable to get back up. The backs of his thighs, including his calves and buttocks, felt a piercing, heart-wrenching pain!
Wang An endured the pain, gritted his teeth, and stood up, but the rage in his heart surged straight to the top of his head.
To be honest, if this weren't in the county seat, and if they weren't in front of the supply and marketing cooperative, Wang An would have sent them all to see the Buddha with one shot each long ago.
Unfortunately, at this moment, Wang An truly didn't dare shoot these bastards dead.
In this day and age, fighting was no problem, and fighting with hoe handles or whips was no problem, but using a gun—that would be a huge deal.
Even if Wang An was a militia member, it wouldn't matter.
Speaking of the militia, at this time, not only was Wang An a militia member, but Mu Xueli and Wang Li were also militia members.
However, the "profession" of a militia member came with neither an ID card nor written proof; it was simply a registration on file at a certain unit.
Therefore, even if one claimed to be a militia member, others wouldn't necessarily believe it, because there was no way to prove it.
Zhang Shuya had only mentioned it to Wang An in passing while chatting during the tiger-hunting incident.
The scene at the time was
Zhang Shuya said, "Xiao An, you three are militia members now. I've handled the paperwork for you."
After Zhang Shuya finished speaking, she took no further action.
Because Wang An didn't understand, he instinctively asked
"Big Sister, where's the certificate? The militia certificate?"
Zhang Shuya had asked back with great confusion
"Certificate? What certificate? Where is there a certificate?"
Wang An was bewildered. He drew a small rectangle in the air with his index fingers and said
"Just a little booklet. There isn't one?"
Wang An's question was met with loud laughter from Zhang Shuya and Wu Dong's group of six.
Once the six of them had laughed enough, Wu Dong explained it to Wang An.
The gist of the explanation was
Militia members have no booklets, no certificates, and no written documents. If you don't mention you're in the militia, no one knows; if you say you are, still no one knows.
(End of Chapter)