Chapter 138: Turning Corpses Into Spirits, Ding Jia Warrior
Inside the Guanghui Money House, sandalwood smoke curled faintly, and the clacking of abacus beads rang lightly.
Chen Shun’an looked at the densely packed handwriting on the IOU, a trace of profundity flashing in his eyes.
He vaguely felt that the Guanghui Money House was secretly engaging in some shady dealings behind the scenes.
Perhaps worried that Chen Shun’an would spot the traps in the IOU, Huo Ning kept speaking up to divert Chen Shun’an’s attention.
Huo Ning said, “Brother Chen, I really wore out my lips convincing him, and the Landlord only barely agreed. Adding this time’s three thousand taels, it’s a total of four thousand taels of silver lent to you, Brother Chen, but the interest has to be raised by four points, meaning six points per month, still continuing the previous term—at most three months from now, it must be repaid.”
Huo Ning said in a drawn-out tone, “In other words, Brother Chen, you have just over two months left… Please don’t be late, Brother Chen, or we’ll have to go by the IOU.”
Two more months?
Two months is enough for me to shear your money house bankrupt!
Chen Shun’an felt a slight joy in his heart, figuring it was because he had revealed his second-rate late stage strength, plus the Three Refinements Martial Body, which had increased his ‘commercial value’ at the Guanghui Money House.
Can add more investment.
“Great, great, great, many thanks to Landlord Zhao, I’ll sign and seal it right away.”
Chen Shun’an’s face instantly piled with eager delight, as if afraid the other party would back out, he snatched the ink pad and unhesitatingly slammed down his fingerprint.
Moments later, Chen Shun’an left joyfully, pocketing the banknote and carrying several hundred taels of silver, stepping lightly out of the money house gate, his figure soon blending into the street crowd.
After he left, Huo Ning exchanged a glance with the old clerk behind the counter, the false enthusiasm on their faces instantly fading, replaced by sly, cold smirks of a plot succeeding.
There were plenty of traps on that IOU.
Various compound interests and different calculations meant that for this four-thousand-tael King of Hell’s Account, after two months of interest rolling, it would require fully repaying nearly six thousand taels!
Moreover, the debtor’s wife and daughter, family property, could only be sold to the Guanghui Money House.
At prices far below market value.
Generally speaking, a second-rate expert’s monthly salary was around 30 taels, while a True Intent Master would naturally command much higher, with earning power worlds apart.
But no matter how you calculated it, even for a figure like Lu Jing, six thousand taels was no small sum.
After all, the higher the cultivation, the greater the consumption of various resources; just maintaining stable Qi and Blood and the body’s needs each month required a large sum of silver.
To cough up six thousand taels in hard cash all at once was a tall order.
Not to mention for a second-rate martial artist like Chen Shun’an.
Huo Ning slowly rolled up the IOU, carefully sealing it with sealing wax, and chuckled lightly,
“This Chen Shun’an is done for.”
A fine Chong He Martial Tendon Body had fallen into Zhao Guanghui’s pocket.
In the future, even if the Water Station Landlord Zhao Guangxi stood up for Chen Shun’an, even took it to court, as long as he produced this IOU, wouldn’t Zhao Guangxi be left speechless?
Huo Ning seemed to think of something else, his tone carrying a hint of teasing,
“Almost forgot, there’s a bonus—that Cheng Bin has also fallen into the trap.”
With that, Huo Ning abruptly stood, tucked the IOU securely against his body, gave a few instructions to the old clerk, then went out the back door, heading straight for Zhao Mansion.
Zhao Guanghui had instructed that once Chen Shun’an’s IOU was signed, it must be delivered to him for safekeeping and not left in the money house, just in case of any mishaps or theft by thieves.
……
Chen Shun’an left the Guanghui Money House and saw that it was about time for lunch, and right across from the money house was a shop selling sheep intestine soup, so he ordered a bowl of mutton soup loaded with offal and plenty of meat, adding chili oil, garlic chives, and all sorts of seasonings without holding back, piled high.
“Eh? Old Cheng?”
Chen Shun’an was eating with sweat beading on his nose when he saw a familiar figure emerge from behind the money house’s screen wall.
Cheng Bin looked wary, glancing around the street, and seeing no acquaintances, he buried his head and hurried away.
Chen Shun’an noticed that Cheng Bin’s waist pouch was bulging, as if he had just taken out a loan and was carrying silver on him.
Seeing this, Chen Shun’an sighed.
Cheng Bin had been acting off these past few days, often taking leave and missing work, hardly seen all day.
From today’s appearance, he had probably pawned his house deed and taken out another loan from the money house.
He had likely prepared to flee with his beauty, default on the debt, and get far away from Wuqing County.
Chen Shun’an could eat granary fraud and library, shear loans without repaying through his skills.
But others didn’t have such means.
He gazed at the leftover soup in the bowl, hesitated slightly, and finally set down his chopsticks.
“Forget it, for the sake of being colleagues.”
If he had no ability himself, like a clay Buddha crossing the river, Chen Shun’an naturally wouldn’t want to meddle.
But now, with his strength advancing, he was already at the top tier of Wuqing County’s martial world, and Chen Shun’an couldn’t just stand by coldly while friends and family nearby suffered.
Especially with that little vixen Xiao Man actually badmouthing him behind his back.
This was slandering his innocence!
An old man’s innocence is still innocence!
Setting down the large porcelain bowl drunk clean, tossing down a dozen coppers, Chen Shun’an silently left the shop and quietly followed that panicked figure from afar.
……
Outside Zhao Mansion’s gate, a pair of stone lions stood imposingly.
“Brother Huang, take care.”
“Brother Zhao, no need to see me off, we must get closer in the days ahead!”
“Hahaha, of course, of course!”
Zhao Guanghui personally escorted the Landlord of Wanlong Pounding House, Huang Xing, to the stone steps at the mansion gate.
The two linked arms and chatted amiably, laughing heartily, with repeated invitations and refusals, a scene of utmost warmth.
Huang Xing stepped onto the sedan stool into the sedan chair, waved his hand, and left with a smile.
Zhao Guanghui watched Huang Xing’s sedan disappear at the alley’s end before turning back into the mansion; the moment he crossed the threshold, the smile vanished from his face, turning expressionless.
“Landlord.”
A voice came from not far away, and Hong Junxian, dressed in thin cotton trousers and jacket, came up and tentatively asked,
“I wonder what this Huang Xing came here for?”
Zhao Guanghui didn’t hide it and chuckled lightly,
“People from the Pounding House say they’re willing to help me contest for the wellhead position, even lend elite forces to help eliminate major enemies, but only if I do some things for them… They sure have guts, reaching their hands into the water station.”
Hong Junxian felt a chill in his heart, thinking this matter should be reported to the Temple Keeper Chen immediately, but his face showed no ripples, merely squeezing out a suitable puzzled expression as he said,
“These Pestle Overlords never move without profit; they’re probably up to no good.”
“Of course.”
Zhao Guanghui sneered: “A pack of ruined dogs, they lost the contest for the Capital City’s various wells back then, and now they want to use our hen to lay their eggs… Pure wishful thinking!”
Although Zhao Guanghui was also contesting for the wellhead and hated his brother Zhao Guangxi to the bone, increasingly disliking even that old man Chen Shun’an.
But he had no intention of colluding with outsiders or using poison or assassination to get rid of Chen Shun’an, Zhao Guangxi, and others.
First, for the water station to become one of the Four Overlords of the Capital, the primary thing was internal unity; harming colleagues without just cause for personal gain was the water station’s red line—whoever crossed it died.
Although Zhao Guanghui was a later water station Landlord with little sense of belonging to the trade.
But he knew those old fellows above the water station were not to be trifled with; if they got serious, squashing him would be no harder than squashing a bug.
Cowardly.
Second, Zhao Guangxi was his own flesh-and-blood brother, close family—how could he allow him to be humiliated by others… If he dies, he can only die by my hand.
“I’ll take their goods and benefits, but won’t do a single thing for them!”
Zhao Guanghui sneered.
At that moment, led by a guard, Huo Ning came jogging up briskly.
Huo Ning’s face bore irrepressible delight as he respectfully handed over a wax-sealed document,
“Landlord, Chen Shun’an’s IOU is here; I’ve also brought those of Cheng Bin and the others.”
Zhao Guanghui didn’t even glance at Cheng Bin and the others’ IOUs, just took Chen Shun’an’s, scanned the fresh red fingerprint, and nodded in satisfaction,
“Well done on this. Rest early tonight; I’ll send a Ding Jia Warrior to your door to grant you a spirit infusion, extending your life and increasing longevity—that’ll be your reward!”
“Many thanks, Landlord, many thanks, Landlord!”
Hearing this, Huo Ning was overjoyed, bowing repeatedly, almost unable to contain himself.
Only part of the upper mid-levels of the Guanghui Money House knew that Zhao Guanghui had a ghostly, unfathomable Turning Corpses into Spirits method, using martial artists’ corpses as embryos and cultivation as the source to animate Ding Jia Warriors.
Slay Demons, commune with spirits, day travel, steal information, track, spirit infusion…
All-powerful.
“Ding Jia Warrior? What is that?”
Meanwhile, Hong Junxian, hearing this, showed a puzzled look in his eyes.
But Zhao Guanghui had no interest in explaining, waved everyone away, and walked alone with hands behind his back toward the vast Large Garden deep in the mansion.
Zhao Mansion covered a considerable area, nearly fifty mu, with stone lions and ornamental columns outside the gate, plus lavish stone archways and such.
Inside were numerous buildings large and small, paths crisscrossing, winding corridors, exceedingly intricate.
Without a familiar guide, it was easy to lose one’s way.
Especially the Large Garden, which was Zhao Mansion’s forbidden area; without Zhao Guanghui’s permission, even Madam Zhao was not allowed to enter casually.
Seeing Zhao Guanghui’s figure enter the garden depths shrouded by vines and bamboo groves.
Hong Junxian headed toward what seemed an ordinary practice field, but once he reached a secluded corner unseen by others.
His aura suddenly changed, internal energy circulating darkly, his face instantly turning sallow and ancient, his muscles and bones tightening and relaxing as if he had slimmed down out of thin air.
All outward-projecting essence, energy, and spirit were fully retracted into his Dantian, the whole person like a withered log or stubborn stone, utterly inconspicuous.
Then Hong Junxian turned his steps, leaped lightly, like a wisp of green smoke, heading straight for the Large Garden.
Hong Junxian’s strength was on par with Zhao Guanghui’s.
But Hong Junxian had an early opportunity, stumbling upon a purple Yin Symbol Hidden Profound Art in the great desert, which could hide internal essence, energy, and spirit, along with external muscles and bones, all within the Dantian.
Even martial artists one or two minor realms above him would find it nearly impossible to detect.
Within the garden, vegetation was deep and shadowy, rockeries layered, waterside pavilions silent.
Hong Junxian circulated the Hidden Profound Art to its limit, his aura nearly ceased, ghosting through exotic flowers and strange rocks in search.
Yet after circling once, he saw no trace of Zhao Guanghui, as if the man had vanished into thin air.
“Strange, where did he go? Zhao Guanghui has big secrets on him.”
Hong Junxian felt a chill but didn’t dare linger; seeing no gains, he decisively left and returned to the front courtyard.
He wiped his face, restoring the appearance of old yet vigorous Elder Hong, full of essence, energy, and spirit.
Not long after Hong Junxian left, in a crevice of a rockery in a corner of the garden depths, a few withered leaves suddenly rustled.
Fallen leaves drifted down, and from below abruptly popped out a head no bigger than a finger…
The head rose bit by bit, first the neck, then the body, then a pair of feet.
It was a little figure over an inch long, dressed like an ordinary martial artist.
Features blurred, only a pair of bulging eyes with murky pupils, emanating a chilling yin energy.
The little figure silently turned toward the direction Hong Junxian had disappeared, stood still for a moment, and when a yin wind blew past, it quietly dissolved like a phantom, as if it had never appeared.
