When Wolves Eat Meat, Dogs Eat Shit, and Trash Goes Hungry

In the county yamen's side hall, candlelight flickered.

The air was thick with the smell of cheap wound salve and the suppressed groans of the injured. Zhao Ba Pi had already been carried off to the clinic, but the dark red bloodstain left on the bluestone floor had yet to be wiped clean.

Wang Meng sat in a grand chair, rolling two black, gleaming iron balls in his hand. Their clack, clack sounded especially piercing in the deathly silent hall.

He did not look at Ji Ye. Instead, he stared blankly at that pool of blood.

"Zhao Laoliu's leg can't be saved?"

Only after a long while did Wang Meng speak, his tone as calm as if he were asking what was for dinner.

"The physician said it's a comminuted fracture. Bone splinters have pierced into the flesh." Ji Ye stood below, still wearing that bloodstained dark uniform, his back ramrod straight. "To save his life, it can only be amputated."

"Amputated, huh..."

Wang Meng sighed. The iron balls in his hand paused for a moment, then began rolling again. "Better amputated than suffering. He followed me for five years. Even if he had no merit, he still worked hard. Have the accountant give him twenty taels later and let him return to the countryside to retire."

Twenty taels.

That bought out a squad leader's five years of risking his life and one of his legs.

Was that a fair price?

It was. In Great Liang, a human life was worth only five taels.

Yet everyone present felt a chill rise from the soles of their feet. It was the desolation of rabbits dying and foxes grieving, and the fear of the iron law that trash would be cast aside.

"How are things at Ghost Market?" Wang Meng abruptly changed the subject, his gaze finally falling on Ji Ye.

At that instant, Ji Ye felt like prey being watched by a ferocious tiger. Yet he did not flinch. Meeting Wang Meng's eyes, he took a heavy cloth bag from his robes and presented it with both hands.

"The Black Tiger Gang crossed the line first and has been driven back. These are their 'apology gifts,' along with the customary payments offered by several Ghost Market shops."

Ji Ye did not mention the glory of his slash, nor did he mention how many people he had saved.

He spoke only of money.

Because he knew that was all Wang Meng cared about. Why had Zhao Ba Pi been able to firmly hold his position as squad leader? Not because he could fight, but because he could dig money out of Ghost Market's paupers like a rabid dog.

Wang Meng accepted the cloth bag and weighed it in his hand. At last, a trace of a smile appeared on his previously gloomy face.

It was twenty percent more than Zhao Ba Pi had handed over in previous months.

"This past month, you've given me quite a few surprises, kid."

Wang Meng casually set the bag on the table and leaned forward slightly. The pressure belonging to a seasoned martial artist bore down head-on. "Zhao Laoliu is crippled. Team Ding cannot be without someone to lead it. A place like Ghost Market can only be held down by an evil ghost."

"Do you think you're an evil ghost?"

This was a deadly question.

Answer yes, and he would seem too ambitious; answer no, and he would prove himself unfit for the position.

Ji Ye fell silent for a moment.

He remembered himself in his previous life, kneeling and begging for mercy. He remembered that black flour bun crushed beneath someone's foot. He remembered Little Mute's despairing eyes in the rainy night.

He raised his head, and a cruel curve touched his lips.

"This subordinate is not an evil ghost."

"This subordinate eats ghosts."

Wang Meng froze for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha! Good! What a ghost-eater!"

His laughter shook dust from the ceiling in a soft shower. Wang Meng slammed a hand onto the table, and the iron balls smashed a shallow dent into its surface.

"From today onward, Team Ding is yours to lead. You'll take forty percent of the customary payments Zhao Laoliu used to collect. But let me make one thing ugly first: if Ghost Market falls into chaos, or if next month's money comes up short..."

Wang Meng's laughter came to an abrupt stop, and a cold glint flashed through his eyes. "I'll take your leg as payment."

"This subordinate understands."

Ji Ye clasped his fists and bowed deeply.

When he left the side hall, the snow outside had stopped.

The dozen or so remaining constables of Team Ding were waiting in the courtyard. The whispering crowd fell silent the instant they saw Ji Ye emerge.

They looked at the Wild Goose Feather Saber at his waist, its blood not yet wiped clean, with reverence in their eyes.

Everyone could see it. The sky had changed.

Ji Ye said nothing and merely walked before them.

He took out a small pouch of loose silver that Wang Meng had not confiscated—change he had deliberately kept back.

"Pockmarked."

Ji Ye called out.

"Captain... Captain Ji!" Pockmarked jolted and hurried over, changing his form of address with astonishing ease.

"Take these five taels to buy medicine for the injured brothers. Divide whatever remains among everyone and buy drinks." Ji Ye tossed him the silver. "Also, tell everyone that Team Ding's rules have changed from now on."

The constables all stiffened.

A new official took office with three fires. Was he about to establish his authority?

"After the customary payments are handed in each month, I will not take thirty percent of what remains." Ji Ye swept his gaze over them, his voice calm. "I'll take only twenty percent. The extra ten percent will go to the brothers who charge at the front."

The entire courtyard erupted in an uproar.

Zhao Ba Pi had once wanted to swallow even the bone scraps. Ji Ye was actually giving up a share voluntarily?

"Captain Ji, this..." Pockmarked could scarcely believe it.

"But I have one condition."

Ji Ye cut him off. His gaze turned cold and grim. "From now on, if anyone dares to drop the chain at a critical moment, or play tricks behind my back..."

Shing!

The Wild Goose Feather Saber slid halfway from its sheath, its cold gleam reflecting Ji Ye's stern face.

"Zhao Ba Pi lost a leg. I take necks."

"Do you understand?"

"Understood!"

This time, their response was perfectly unified, carrying an unprecedented fervor.

Following a leader like this meant there was meat to eat, but they also had to throw their lives on the line.

This was how Ji Ye controlled his men.

A wolf pack needed no warmth. It only needed meat and whips.

Back at his residence, Ji Ye shut the door, and his taut nerves finally relaxed.

Exhaustion came crashing over him like a tide.

He sat by the bed and untied his shirt. His shoulders and back were covered in bruises, injuries left from clashing head-on with Iron Pagoda. Even with Triple Brute Force protecting him, a Mortal Shell had its limits.

"Still not strong enough..."

Ji Ye looked at his faintly trembling palm.

Though he had won today's battle, it had also shown him the gap. That Iron Pagoda was merely a Red Stick of the Black Tiger Gang and had not yet cultivated Internal Strength.

What if he encountered a true expert who had cultivated Internal Strength?

Ji Ye pulled a wooden chest out from beneath the bed.

Inside lay an account book, searched out from Zhao Ba Pi's room, recording the backgrounds of Ghost Market's various forces. There was also that contraband salt dealer's boning knife, along with several bottles of cheap wound salve.

His gaze settled on a page in the account book.

A name was written there: [Hui Chun Tang · Medicinal Bath Formula].

It was a medicinal decoction brewed from tiger bones, Bone-Penetrating Grass, and other herbs. Used alongside external martial arts training, it could strengthen sinews and bones, and even offered a slight chance of cultivating "Copper Skin."

But the formula was expensive. One dose cost five taels of silver.

The former Ji Ye would not even have dared to dream of it.

But now...

Ji Ye touched the reward silver and advance monthly pay he had just received in his robes.

"Money's just a bastard. Spend it, and you can earn more."

Ji Ye's gaze hardened.

His strength had reached a bottleneck. Simply eating meat would make it difficult to achieve any major improvement. He had to use medicinal baths and temper himself with the Mountain Splitting Saber Technique, raising his physical condition as quickly as possible.

Only once his base stats were high enough would the gains from Triple Talent become even more terrifying.

"The next-stage goal..."

Ji Ye silently calculated in his heart.

"Cultivate Copper Skin and seize complete control of Ghost Market."

Outside the window, that One-Eye old crow had somehow landed on the window lattice. It cocked its head at the young man inside and let out a hoarse cry.

Ji Ye turned to glance at it, then suddenly smiled.

He casually broke off a piece of the unfinished dried meat and tossed it out the window.

"A reward for you."

The old crow flapped its wings, snatched the dried meat, and flew into the night sky.