Incense Lighting Gang

2024-07-31

Incense Lighting Gang

"You're courting death!" The burly man had not seen who had come. Being stopped only made him angrier. He clenched both hands into fists, disregarding everything else as he prepared to fight the newcomer again.

Song Changming frowned at the man before him.

Judging by his face full of stubble, he should have been no longer young. Why was he still so reckless?

The other man used his fists, but Song Changming had no interest in brawling with him to the end. He simply drew his blade.

The long saber at his waist left its sheath, its edge tracing a slightly strange arc through the air with a soft hum.

The next instant, a flash of cold light appeared, and his blade was already pressed against the man's neck.

A chilly sting spread across his throat. Blood seeped from the cut left there.

Only then did the burly man recover some sense from his rage. He knew that if he pressed on, his head would be separated from his body.

As sweat beaded on his forehead, he also noticed Song Changming's official uniform.

The man fighting him was clearly from the authorities!

His heart sank even further.

"Disturbing the peace, committing violence in the street, and attacking a patrol guard—your crimes are aggravated. Cuff yourself. Don't make me do it." Song Changming took out the shackles and spoke indifferently to the Martial Artist.

The burly man cast a sideways glance at the few "heroes" who had been drinking with him.

They had been boasting grandly together just moments ago, but now every one of them had vanished without a trace.

Clearly, compared to him, the others were still smarter. None of them had any intention of getting carried away and rescuing him.

In truth, his companions were equally speechless. They had talked about how the authorities did nothing and were utterly useless, saying they wished they could storm the Patrol Guard Headquarters that very night, break into the prison, and save those loyal and righteous men.

But it had all been empty talk. Who would have thought this burly fool would take it seriously and actually dare to attack a patrol guard?

The burly man gritted his teeth and shouted, "Dog official, die!"

As he spoke, he reached into his clothes for something.

Song Changming's gaze sharpened. He twisted the saber in his hand and suddenly accelerated, slicing open the man's wrist and precisely severing his tendon, denying him any chance to throw a hidden weapon.

Then he struck the back of the burly man's head with the flat of his blade.

With one smooth combo, the man could not even grunt before collapsing unconscious on the spot.

"It's all right now." Song Changming spoke to the proprietor, casually lifting the two-hundred-pound burly man as easily as a rag sack, as though he weighed nothing.

"Thank you, officer. If not for you today, I'm afraid I couldn't have escaped a beating." The proprietor repeatedly cupped his hands to Song Changming in thanks.

Ever since Song Changming began overseeing this district, many of the local shopkeepers had come to recognize this newly appointed young patrol guard.

Whenever they saw Song Changming, they were always polite, calling him "officer" again and again.

"What happened to him?" Song Changming asked, glancing at the old man lying on the ground.

"This old bastard caused today's trouble. I pitied him before and gave him a few bites to eat, intending to let him help out in the kitchen as a worker.

"Who knew the old man would be so ungrateful? Every few days, he'd steal wine from the shop to drink. Today, he was even caught stealing silver. How could I keep him? I was just about to throw him out when I ran into that menace. He wouldn't distinguish right from wrong and started attacking the moment he saw us."

After the proprietor explained what had happened, Song Changming glanced at the old freeloader. Since the proprietor had no intention of reporting the old man to the authorities, Song Changming could not be bothered to meddle. He simply carried off the Martial Artist in his hand.

At a window-side table in one corner of the tavern sat three people.

Two female attendants with swords at their waists, dressed in white brocade robes, and a young master in a long gown and black cap.

One attendant was lively while the other was stern. Both looked exceptionally heroic. Even seated on the bench, they kept their backs straight, their feet poised to spring into action at any moment as they guarded against their surroundings, whether intentionally or not.

The more spirited-looking attendant watched Song Changming leave and suddenly covered her mouth with a smile.

"Young Master, did you enjoy what you saw today?" The young master was fair and handsome. Drawing back his gaze, he said, "I never expected a mere city patrol guard to possess such skill with the saber. With those abilities, he could serve as a Patrol Captain, couldn't he?"

The stern-faced attendant shook her head and explained, "His saber technique has indeed reached minor mastery, which would be enough. But his body cultivation is lacking. It looks as though he only recently entered the beginner stage. Still, he possesses considerable strength, so he likely focuses on the Bone Forging Technique.

"Considering how young this patrol guard looks, becoming a Patrol Captain in the future should not be a problem."

The other attendant then said, "If Young Master is interested in that young patrol guard, why not recruit him into your service?"

The young master shook his head without speaking. He stirred the wine in his cup with a chopstick, as if he had other matters on his mind.

To him, a mere city patrol guard—even one with decent potential among the others—was not worth his attention.

"Let's go. We've had a change of pace. It's time to return."

That evening, Song Changming headed home carrying several pounds of beef and mutton, along with a jar of fine wine.

The meat and wine were a small gift of thanks specially sent by the tavern proprietor earlier that day.

After Song Changming's token refusals proved ineffective, he accepted them with a smile.

This was one of the perks of being a patrol guard. All he had to do was maintain good relations with the merchants while patrolling the streets, offering minor favors and not making things difficult for them.

Once they became familiar with him, they would naturally offer Song Changming certain benefits in return. They looked after one another.

Unlike Night Watchmen, who could only get their hands on secondhand corpses, patrol guards had quite a few ways to earn extra benefits.

Song Changming would not pretend to be incorruptible and refuse benefits he could rightfully receive. He only needed to hold to his own bottom line and avoid being wicked or greedily insatiable.

"If Father sees this wine, he'll probably be drooling over it," Song Changming muttered to himself as he walked.

He was not particularly fond of drinking. The reason he had accepted the jar was to bring it home for his old father.

On Baiyi Street, though it was late and had not rained, several strange figures dressed in straw rain capes and bamboo hats passed beneath an old crooked tree.

"Who's there?" Mother Song heard the commotion outside the courtyard and came out of the kitchen. When she saw the people in straw rain capes, her expression suddenly changed drastically.

"Y-you, what are you doing?!"

"Madam, don't be alarmed. We heard that your husband suffers from a stubborn and unusual illness, so we specially brought you several life-saving incense sticks. Light them, and in three days, his illness will be cured." One of the rain-caped figures spoke.

Her voice belonged to an elderly woman, dry and hoarse with age. As she spoke, she took three red incense sticks from her wide sleeve and tried to hand them to Mother Song.

At the sight of them, Mother Song immediately waved her hands in refusal, looking somewhat flustered. "N-no need. My husband's illness has already been cured."

"Cured?" The old woman paused. She exchanged glances with the other rain-caped people, then continued.

"No matter. Even if you don't use it to treat illness, this incense can be used to invite the gods. The God of Wealth and the God of Fortune can both be summoned with it. It's very useful."

As she spoke, the old woman extended the three incense sticks toward Mother Song inside the fence.

"We don't want them. Our family doesn't want them." Mother Song repeatedly shook her head, seemingly unwilling to have anything to do with these people.

"We came with good intentions to give you incense. Why won't you take it?" One of the taller men in a rain cape could no longer hold back. He snorted and shouted coldly.

As he spoke, several of the rain-caped men made as if to climb over the fence and enter the courtyard.

"What are you doing!" Father Song heard the commotion then and came out from the house with a shoulder pole raised in both hands, shouting at them.

"If you dare break in, I'll report you to the authorities! Don't think I'm afraid to tell you—my son is a patrol guard at the Patrol Guard Headquarters!"

Only then did the rain-caped men restrain themselves somewhat. Yet they still refused to relent, as though they would not leave unless Father Song and Mother Song accepted the three incense sticks.