Qin Ming the Pig Butcher

Qingshan Town, the Wang Family Butcher Shop.

The sky was overcast, and snow fell thickly. Few people were out on the streets. A cold wind swept snowflakes through the crack in the door with a hiss.

"It's snowing heavily today. Head home early once you've finished slaughtering the pig."

Butcher Wang sat in a reclining chair by the stove, leisurely sipping from a bowl of tea.

"Got it."

In the courtyard, Qin Ming answered, snow covering his body as he deftly plunged his pig-slaughtering knife into the pig.

"Puchi!"

Scalding pig's blood, thick with the smell of blood, poured into a wooden basin prepared in advance.

He drained the blood, scalded the pig with boiling water, removed the hair, slit it open, took out the organs, and deboned it.

Before long, the domestic pig had been cleaned and prepared.

Qin Ming remained expressionless. For the past few months, he had slaughtered a pig every two days, rain or shine, and had long since grown used to it.

After washing his hands, Qin Ming went over to Wang Butcher and held out his hand. "Uncle Wang, isn't it time you settled my wages for the past few months?"

He had worked here for four full months, but Wang Butcher had kept putting off paying him. If he and his wife hadn't been living on the pig offal Wang Butcher didn't want, they would probably have starved to death long ago.

"As we agreed at the start, my wages were two hundred and fifty copper coins a month. That's one tael of silver for four months!"

"Qin Ming, didn't I tell you last time? Uncle Wang is a little short of funds right now."

Butcher Wang brushed the snowflakes off his shoulder and took a few puffing draws on his tobacco pipe. He grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Short of funds again?" Qin Ming withdrew his hand, a trace of coldness appearing on his face.

"Counting this time, I've asked you four times in these four months! Every time, you say you're short of funds! I think you're not short of funds at all—you just don't want to pay!"

"Qin Ming, you ungrateful wretch! You eat our food, drink our water, and use our things! If we hadn't taken you in, you'd have starved to death long ago, and you still have the nerve to ask us for wages!"

A fat old woman with a greasy face rushed out. She planted one hand on her hip, pointed the other at Qin Ming's nose, and cursed him at the top of her lungs.

Wang Butcher flared up too, kicking over the wooden basin at his feet.

"Qin Ming! Don't push your luck! If it weren't for the sake of your father, do you think I'd have hired you? You should be grateful I gave you pig offal to eat, and you still want wages? Get the hell out!"

"Just answer me this: are you paying me or not?!"

Qin Ming's eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed his pig-slaughtering knife. The knife, still dripping blood, instantly brought Wang Butcher to his senses a little.

The Qin family had been butchers for generations, and the pig-slaughtering knife in Qin Ming's hand had been passed down for more than a dozen generations. Not only was it incomparably sharp, but it had also accumulated a dense, baleful killing aura. Thinking of how ruthless Qin Ming was when slaughtering pigs, Wang Butcher couldn't help feeling uneasy.

After all, he had also had something to do with Qin Ming's father's death, and even this butcher shop had once belonged to the Qin family.

"You little bastard, I think you're trying to overturn the heavens..."

The fat woman still refused to let up, but the quick-eyed, quick-handed Wang Butcher grabbed her.

"I'll give you the money. Get out, and don't come back from tomorrow on!"

Wang Butcher tossed out a piece of silver weighing one tael, his face full of impatience. "I'll fucking count it as alms for a beggar!"

After leaving the butcher shop, Qin Ming pulled his patched old padded coat tighter around him. Braving the wind and snow, he trudged home through the snow, his feet sinking unevenly with every step.

His home was in the poorest shantytown in Qingshan Town.

He had once belonged to a fairly well-off family in town. The Qin Family had been butchers for generations, building up a considerable fortune and running a thriving business in town, but all of it had been destroyed overnight.

Qin Ming's father, Qin Shou, had been set up. In a single night, he had not only gambled away the family fortune but also ended up buried in debt. His body had been found in a stinking ditch by the roadside, his death unexplained.

The family property, ancestral home, and fields were gone, and in the end, they couldn't even hold on to the butcher shop. Qin Ming and Embroiderer, who had only recently married, had been forced to take shelter in a shack nobody wanted.

Wind came through the shack on all sides, and whenever it rained and blew, the inside was like a water curtain cave.

"First thing tomorrow morning, I'll buy Embroiderer a new padded coat, and then some rice, flour, and oil."

Qin Ming pulled his collar tighter. The cold wind was like a knife, cutting painfully into his cheeks.

The creditors had carried away everything the Qin family owned to settle their debts. The two of them hadn't even had padded clothes for the winter; the coat Qin Ming wore had been given to him by an older neighbor.

With only one padded coat between them, they could only take turns wearing it. Embroiderer was still dressed in thin clothes and could usually only lie in bed, wrapped in a thin, moldy quilt to ward off the cold.

He didn't know how much time had passed before Qin Ming saw a low-lying shantytown appear before him.

Puddles lay everywhere, giving off a powerful stench that rode the cold wind into every corner of the shantytown.

Hearing footsteps, someone in a nearby shack opened the door a crack. When they saw it was Qin Ming, they spat under their breath at the bad luck and quickly slammed the door shut.

Qin Ming's expression remained unchanged. He had long since grown used to such scenes.

The people of this world stood in awe of ghosts and gods. Because pig butchers took so many lives, they were regarded as harbingers of misfortune and relegated to the very bottom of society, no different from those of lowly status.

Qin Ming passed through the somewhat drier, run-down shantytown ahead and wound his way through its twists and turns until he stopped before a rust-covered iron door.

This was where he and Embroiderer were staying.

But three burly men were blocking the door, working pieces of wire in their hands as they tried to pick the lock.

"Scarface! You lot again!"

Qin Ming's eyes turned bloodshot, and he quickly drew the pig-slaughtering knife at his waist.

Scarface had been one of his father's creditors. He had been harassing the couple for some time and had even threatened to sell Embroiderer to a brothel to settle the debt.

Hearing his voice, Scarface spat under his breath at his bad luck.

Qin Ming usually didn't return until after dark. He hadn't expected him back so early today.

Residents of the nearby shacks heard the commotion and poked their heads out to watch. With so many eyes on him, Scarface didn't dare kill Qin Ming outright and bring a lawsuit down on himself.

"Qin Ming, you're back just in time. The ten taels of silver your father owed me will be due in three days. I came especially to remind you today: if you can't pay it back in three days, I'll have to take your newlywed bride as payment!"

Scarface spoke with a cold face.

"In three days, I'll give you ten taels of silver, not a coin less! Get out!"

Qin Ming forced down his anger and spoke word by word.

There were three burly men on the other side. Even with a pig-slaughtering knife in hand, he wouldn't have much of an advantage.

"Fine, fine, fine! Listen here, boy: if you can't produce ten taels of silver in three days, I'll sever the tendons in your hands and feet!"

Scarface was so furious that he laughed instead. He glanced at the pig-slaughtering knife gleaming coldly in Qin Ming's hand, a trace of wariness flashing in his eyes, and strode away.

"Creak."

Qin Ming unlocked the door and pushed his way inside. The room was dim, lit only by half a kerosene lamp.

The thin quilt at the corner of the bed trembled slightly. Embroiderer poked out her little head, her pretty little face full of fear. When she saw it was Qin Ming, she could finally hold back no longer. She threw herself into his arms and burst into loud sobs, her frail body trembling nonstop from fright.

"Those damned bastards!"

Killing intent flashed in Qin Ming's eyes.

Three days. He had only three days!

After he spoke softly to comfort Embroiderer and she gradually calmed down, Qin Ming took his pig-slaughtering knife and began skillfully preparing the pig offal.

Almost there! I should be able to do it tonight!

Qin Ming thought, and a panel appeared before his eyes.

[Heaven rewards diligence; steel is forged through a hundred refinements]

[Host: Qin Ming]

[Life-Bound Martial Art: Pig-Slaying Saber Technique: 99/100 (not yet initiated)]