Chapter 168: Moonless Windy Murder Night
Twilight dimmed.
Clop clop clop…
The sound of horse hooves rang out.
A blue-canopied horse-drawn carriage drove out from the back gate of Zhao Mansion, its wheels rolling over the stone slabs with a dull rumble.
It passed right in front of Cheng Bin.
The carriage carried who-knows-what, covered with white cloth whose contours undulated unevenly, faintly revealing a human-shaped shadow with the jolts.
A gust of wind blew, wrinkling the white cloth.
A pallid arm without a trace of blood color suddenly dangled down from the carriage.
Cheng Bin recognized the owner of this arm at a glance.
Those slender fingers like spring onions, that wrist smooth as silk, had once hung around his neck, softly calling him Cheng Lang.
Xiao Man.
Dead.
Cheng Bin slowly lowered his head; the fading twilight shrouded his entire face in shadow, making his expression indiscernible.
Huo Ning, driving the carriage, jogged over and tucked the dangling arm back under the white cloth, his movements as practiced as if handling a slab of pork.
He took out a rusty iron hook, thrust it viciously into the corpse to secure it, then cracked the whip to drive the carriage speeding toward the mass grave outside the city.
“Benefactor Cheng.”
Suddenly, a Zen chant sounded from behind Cheng Bin.
He turned in a daze and saw Jiu Chan Hui, clad in a purple-red cassock, standing silently behind him from who-knows-where.
“This master is…”
“This one was entrusted by Landlord Zhao to ask Benefactor Cheng for a favor.”
Cheng Bin forced a smile uglier than crying: “Cheng is neither man nor ghost now—how could he help the landlord? Please return, master.”
Jiu Chan Hui gazed deeply at Cheng Bin and said faintly,
“You can help. And you will help.”
Moments later.
Cheng Bin walked out of the alley in a daze, stumbling all the way out the county gate, along the muddy official road, to the mass grave outside Bajia Village.
On the undulating barren hills, withered grass whimpered in the wind.
Unclaimed dirt mounds were everywhere; a few wild dogs with glowing green eyes, digging open coffins to eat corpse flesh, lifted their heads and stared coldly at Cheng Bin.
After searching, Cheng Bin finally found Xiao Man at a fresh dirt mound streaked with red rust, newly turned over.
Like foxtail grass, shallow-rooted, untended, drifting with the wind.
“This fool really followed.”
“Street Runner Huo’s method is brilliant—luring the snake out of its hole.”
Several sinister voices rose from all around, like venomous snakes.
Then Huo Ning and the others leaped down from the trees, drew their wrist daggers, and in three shakes of a lamb’s tail knocked Cheng Bin to the ground, took ropes, and bound him head to toe.
“Street Runner Huo, this cripple—for mining or the sewers?”
“Mining first, sewers later—pay off the debts… Hmm? Wait, why does this guy’s pulse feel absent, qi and blood both waning—he looks like he’s done for?!”
Huo Ning looked at the gasping Cheng Bin before him, furious and annoyed, and cursed loudly,
“In this day and age, there really are lovesick fools—I’ve seen it all! Leave the rest to me, don’t interfere!”
As for how to handle it, naturally simple.
Toss him into the blood pool!
…
That night, deep into the hours.
Chen Shun’an was the last to clock out.
Being shopkeeper isn’t easy.
Overseeing everything, handling social ties, tallying accounts, and playing mind games with these water carriers below.
Fortunately, as shopkeeper, many things no longer required his personal labor—he could delegate to the other water carriers.
Like the previous recipient of benefits, Chen Shun’an naturally wouldn’t pass it up himself.
Instead, he handed it to a trusted water carrier like San Dezi whom he knew inside out, to deliver, while slowly scouting for suitable new recipients.
Back to Chaodou Hutong.
Outside the alley entrance, sedan chairs and horse-drawn carriages were parked, nearly blocking the road.
The visitors were either shopkeepers from various firms or stewards from Wuqing gentry clans, each bearing gifts, all eager to curry favor with Chen Shun’an and talk business.
If he were just the shopkeeper of a fresh water well, they wouldn’t fawn like this.
But Zhao Guangxi was Wuqing’s wellhead!
Though Zhao Guangxi hadn’t yet taken office or announced the appointment document,
His palm strike on Zhao Guanghui, especially flaunting the 【Chengping Temple Well Sword】 everywhere, was known to all influential forces in Wuqing County.
As Zhao Guangxi’s favorite and top henchman, Chen Shun’an’s status naturally soared.
Many invited Chen Shun’an for fancy banquets, opera and whoring, or home feasts, but he politely declined each one.
At this critical juncture, it wasn’t time for him to indulge.
Moreover, though Chen Shun’an smiled warmly, his eyes remained icy cold.
These were all sharp cookies.
They hadn’t come on his first day in the new post, waiting until he was settled and the water well produced five-colored sweet dew before paying visits.
Likely watching Chen Shun’an coldly, to avoid wasting early overtures.
Half a shichen later.
Under Chen Shun’an’s slick deflections, sedan chairs lifted off and carriages whipped away; the once-noisy Chaodou Hutong returned to quiet.
In Chen Residence, Wan Niang calmly sorted the heaps of gifts, marking and noting whose family sent what.
She knew a simple and plain reason.
Favors given would be returned.
Years ago when she bore Chun Hong and was in her confinement, the neighbors’ two eggs and brown sugar—she had paid them back later.
“Wan Niang, tally the list and give it to me. Return the overly precious ones; keep the ordinary, worthless ones.”
Chen Shun’an instructed.
He might not remember who sent what.
But he surely remembered who sent nothing.
Just from the gifts, Chen Shun’an could see Wuqing County’s situation more clearly.
…
Night had fallen, thick clouds blanketed the sky, no moonlight, daytime winds rising.
The night wind grew stronger.
Chen Shun’an quietly rose, tucked in Wan Niang’s bedding, and left Chaodou Hutong.
Though with his current strength, no one in Wuqing County could openly surpass him.
Once out of Chaodou Hutong, Chen Shun’an abruptly shifted his qi and blood; with a thought, he seemed to merge into the darkness, falling into a shadowless and formless state.
His python fang boots made his movements even lighter.
Stealth fully activated.
Caution steers the ship for ten thousand years; for the Sacred Dynasty, Chen Shun’an couldn’t be too careful.
Damp river wind hit his face, carrying biting chill.
Night boats like sparks ferried at the riverside.
Along the way, as he neared the fish huo gathering spot, more frozen-starved corpses lay toppled.
Nearly all were emaciated, bloodless faces like skinny poles, faintly scented with fragrance.
Some clearly had no roof tiles against wind, no cloth for warmth, yet couldn’t forget that fragrant heart clearing paste.
Trembling hands stuffed a snuff bottle to the nose; one deep sniff seemed to banish cold and hunger, and they tilted their heads contentedly, lying in the icy snowfield.
In these times, human life was cheapest, so if lives could squeeze out silver, many would risk it.
And clearly, the fish huo led by Owl Third Master were top dogs at it—even squeezing urine from a toad.
Chen Shun’an soon found a fish manor.
By its scale, it was some abandoned big restaurant, usurped by the fish huo as their outpost.
Though deep night, the whole fish manor reeked of vice, shadows flitting about.
Mingled with women’s shrill screams.
With this huo’s reckless nature, no hope of orderly night watches; all slouched around, calling friends.
Chen Shun’an had scouted it long ago.
Precisely, he’d scouted the four great huo, four great pounding houses, and other gang outposts like water stations.
Every few days he’d prowl, updating his map.
He only briefly searched, then familiarly sneaked to an incense hall, dodging behind a straw pile of sundries.
A spot good for advance or retreat, with excellent sightlines for ambush.
“Sigh, shrimp, sea cucumber, all kinds of fish—I’m sick of it. Lu Shaozi, got any precious materials?”
Complaints came from the incense hall.
“Owl Third Brother, don’t get mad at the underlings. We eat mountain or water—only these precious fish catch your eye. Brother doesn’t mind; eat whatever’s there.”
“Forget it! Brother, you rarely visit—indulge tonight. Lu Shaozi, bring my bottom-drawer precious materials; make something tasty!”
Tonight Owl Third Master seemed to be hosting a friend.
Chen Shun’an patiently waited outside the incense hall, then saw the cook called Lu Shaozi hurriedly push out the door to the kitchen.
Instantly, big stove fired up, second stove added fuel, bellows whooshed.
Lu Shaozi worked nonstop, helped by kitchen maids, stir-frying meat shreds and slices busily, sweating profusely.
Then the maids paraded in soups and dishes; soon the incense hall had another fine table set.
Lu Shaozi cautiously said: “You two masters, eat slowly—these kitchen maids will stay to keep you company.”
“Women? I’m bored of them… Right, Lu Shaozi, haven’t seen your boy in years—heard he’s grown handsome. Fetch him to entertain me.”
“Ah? Master, the kiln kid’s still young… You’re joking!”
“Scram! Your stringy muscles—minced for dinner, I’d still disdain it! Hurry, or if you anger me, you and your son sink in the river!”
Owl Third Master cursed.
Lu Shaozi stumbled out dazed, eyes blank, on the verge of tears.
Owl Third Master turned to several huo waiting behind the door and said,
“You lot go; I want to play. Later, no matter the noise, unless it’s the signal, don’t approach! Don’t ruin my fun!”
The huo grinned oddly, bowed and scraped, then left at once.
Moments later, Lu Shaozi carried a bowl of fragrant chicken soup, accompanied by a red-lipped, white-toothed youth with thick brows and big eyes.
They entered the incense hall together.
Outside, Chen Shun’an shook his head upon hearing.
Owl Old Three looked proper, even a true intent master, yet fancied this.
He quickly gauged the two inside’s strength.
Owl Old Three was merely slay two thieves, and back when Lu Jing sliced his ear, wounding his ear aperture—not just damaged meridians, likely shattered heart energy too.
