Teahouse Shakedown

The rickety door of the teahouse scraped open, revealing a menacing figure clad in black. It was the assassin, his features obscured by a dark hood. His eyes, however, glinted with a cold, predatory gleam.

"There you are," the assassin rasped, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Trying to hide, little rat?"

Wu Jianyu gripped the tea tray tighter, his knuckles turning white. The adrenaline thrumming through him masked the pain radiating from his chest. He forced himself to appear calm, though his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

"Who are you?" Wu Jianyu croaked, his voice hoarse. "Who wants me dead?"

The assassin scoffed. "You shouldn't ask questions you aren't meant to know the answers to."

He lunged forward, a wickedly curved dagger flashing in his hand. Wu Jianyu reacted instinctively, channeling the unfamiliar energy coursing through him. As the blade arced towards him, he raised the tea tray in a desperate block.

There was a sickening clang as metal met wood. To Wu Jianyu's surprise, the tray held. Not only that, but the impact seemed to carry an unexpected force, pushing the assassin back a step. His eyes widened in disbelief.

This was the power of the Primordial Chaos? It felt raw, untamed, yet undeniably potent. Emboldened, Wu Jianyu seized the opportunity. He slammed the tray down hard on the attacker's leg, eliciting a yelp of pain.

The assassin stumbled, clutching his injured limb. Wu Jianyu pressed his advantage, using the momentum to launch a surprise attack. He lunged forward, smashing the tray into the assassin's chest. The wood splintered against the man's body, knocking the wind out of him.

The assassin crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. His dagger clattered across the dusty floor, clattering to a stop just out of reach.

Wu Jianyu stood over him, his chest heaving and his vision swimming with dizziness. The effort of using the newfound power had drained him considerably. He wasn't sure if he could hold out much longer.

He raised a shaky hand, ready to deliver the final blow. But as he met the assassin's desperate gaze, a sliver of doubt crept into his mind. This man was just following orders, a pawn in a larger game. Who was the real enemy here?

Before he could make a decision, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. It came from outside, echoing through the deserted market square. His heart lurched. Was it someone he knew? Someone caught in the crossfire?

He couldn't stand here deliberating any longer. With a final steely glance at the incapacitated assassin, Wu Jianyu knew what he had to do. He had to get out of there, find the source of the scream, and hopefully understand why he was suddenly the target of such deadly pursuit.

He stumbled towards a boarded-up window, the energy within him flickering like a dying fire. He channeled its last remnants, imbuing his fist with a surge of power. With a desperate roar, he smashed through the brittle wood, creating an escape route.

Moonlight spilled into the dusty teahouse, illuminating the path ahead. Wu Jianyu clambered through the broken window, ignoring the sting of splinters digging into his flesh. He winced, his chest throbbing in protest, but his resolve was unwavering. He had to find out who wanted him dead, and more importantly, why the Primordial Chaos had chosen him.

He disappeared into the moonlit night, leaving behind the bewildered assassin and the echoes of his own unanswered questions. The once quiet teahouse now stood as a testament to the first tremor of a power yet to be fully understood, and the desperate flight of a man caught in the storm.