Mass Burial Grounds Beggar Den

"Idiot!"

Slap!

With a loud slap, Meng HaiCheng fell to the ground.

Blood mixed with broken teeth fell out, and the dusty ground stuck all over him. Coupled with the blood-soaked bandage on his neck, he looked exceptionally disheveled.

However, Meng HaiCheng didn't even dare to breathe heavily. He quickly got up and knelt on the ground, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

This was a blacksmith shop of considerable size.

The outer courtyard had a row of old blacksmith forges, the fires burning red, the ground littered with iron slag and coal cinders. A group of men, bare-chested, were hammering away with hammers of various sizes.

Clang! Clang! Ding! Ding!

Amidst the harsh sound of blacksmithing, sparks flew.

In the inner courtyard, a group of men with varied attire and tattoos stood or squatted. Under the dim candlelight, their faces were ferocious.

The air was filled with a heavy mix of sweat, tobacco, and the sour stench of unwashed clothes that had been worn for days, a combination that was nauseating.

This was the Iron Saber Gang's stronghold.

At the top of the steps in the inner courtyard, a man sat in a grand chair.

This man was exceptionally tall, with a scruffy beard and dark skin. His features were also extremely rough, making him look very imposing.

Yet, he was wearing a bright red robe, and not even properly. His right arm and shoulder were exposed, and a black tiger was tattooed on his dark skin.

He wore a small cap, and a flower was pinned to his ear, making him look bizarre.

This person was none other than the Iron Saber Gang's leader, Zheng HeiBei.

He was originally a blacksmith in Xianyang City. Blessed with immense strength since childhood, he learned the family's Tongbei Fist. Coupled with his fiery temper, he gathered a group of troublemakers and often got into fights.

After offending someone and being locked up and beaten for a few days, he had an epiphany. He kowtowed and became a disciple of Zhou Pan, after which he founded the Iron Saber Gang.

The West City was far less prosperous than the East City, but his Iron Saber Gang bullied merchants and monopolized the blacksmithing business in the city, thus raking in considerable profits.

At this moment, Zheng HeiBei sat cross-legged on his chair, playing with walnuts in his hand, looking coldly at Meng HaiCheng kneeling on the ground.

"Do you know where you screwed up?"

Meng HaiCheng secretly lamented, "I shouldn't have agreed to the Life and Death Arena."

He was an old hand in the Jianghu, and only realized he had been tricked after leaving.

Their side had the numerical advantage. They should have reneged on the deal then and there and swarmed Li Yan, killing him. Who would have known that Li Hu's son was in Xianyang?

Alas, he had truly been scared at the time.

He remembered Li Yan's eyes again, and a chill still ran down his spine.

"Hmph!"

Zheng HeiBei above, unaware of his thoughts, said coldly, "A greenhorn who just entered the Jianghu has managed to play you like a fiddle. No wonder you've ended up like this."

"Who does he think he is? He should have been hacked to death, and then we could have easily found someone to take the blame. Now look at this, it's become a Martial World arena match. Regardless of victory or defeat, it's an insult to the master!"

Meng HaiCheng became even more fearful and gritted his teeth, "How about I take people there right now and flay him alive!"

"It's too late!"

Zheng HeiBei said calmly, "Now everyone on Xianyang Road is talking about this matter. If you go and kill him now, won't it just be a laughingstock?"

Meng HaiCheng had nothing to say and felt even more miserable.

If he had known, he would have pretended not to know that kid back then.

Zheng HeiBei above pondered for a moment, then turned to the side, his tone softening considerably, "Master You, I heard that kid is following a Xuan Gate Taoist. Do you know what they plan to do?"

"It's nothing more than Inviting the Gods."

The one who spoke was a middle-aged man.

His appearance and accent were completely different from those of Guanzhong, bearing characteristics of the Jiangzuo region. He wore a black robe, his hair was disheveled, and he had a long, thin mustache.

Even stranger was his forehead, where a Taiji symbol was drawn with cinnabar.

This person was named You LaoSi, a Taoist from Jiangzuo, skilled in Enchantment Curse methods. He had offended someone and was on the run.

When Zheng HeiBei learned of this, he secretly took him in.

Over the years, several of his rivals had died mysteriously, all orchestrated by You LaoSi. Zheng HeiBei relied on him heavily.

The Taoist You LaoSi lightly stroked his long mustache and sneered, "That Taoist is named Wang Dao Xuan. His skills are mediocre. All he's doing is trying to Invite Netherworld Gods to protect them while they take on some dangerous jobs."

"To Invite Netherworld Gods, one must go to the Mass Burial Grounds. It will likely be tomorrow night."

"And the Mass Burial Grounds are the territory of those West Traveling Beggars. Have the leader of the gang tell someone to cause some trouble during the ritual, and those beggars will not escape death."

"When everyone is dead, what's the point of fighting in the arena!"

"Master You has a great idea!"

Zheng HeiBei pondered for a moment, "Er Gou, you go there. Remember to be polite. Those beggars are a bit strange."

"Yes, Big Brother!"

A man with a sharp mouth and monkey cheeks stepped out from the crowd.

"Wait a moment."

The Taoist You LaoSi suddenly spoke, "If you go like this, no one will even see you, and you'll lose your life. Let me tell you how to do it..."

"Thank you, Master, for your guidance."

Er Gou carefully took note, cupped his fists, and left.

The Iron Saber Gang's stronghold was in the East City of Xianyang.

After leaving, the man with the sharp mouth and monkey cheeks, Er Gou, mounted a swift horse. He rode through the Changping Granary, passed the Horse King Temple, and exited Xianyang City through the North Gate.

Compared to the ancient ferry crossing to the south, the area around the North Gate was considerably more desolate.

In the autumn rain, a tall memorial archway stood alone in the wilderness.

Occasionally, a few villagers could be seen on the muddy official road; they were all from nearby villages.

Er Gou, wearing a bamboo hat, galloped his horse.

As evening approached, he arrived near a small hill.

Or perhaps, it couldn't even be called a mountain.

The Guanzhong Plain was surrounded by mountains. Whether it was the Qinling Mountains to the south, Zhongnan Mountain, or Hua Mountain and Li Mountain to the east, or the Mount Liang range to the rear, they were all far taller than the small dirt mound before him.

Yet, its notoriety was no less.

Whether due to war, famine, plague, or the clashes of those in the Jianghu, Xianyang City saw many unclaimed corpses every day.

These bodies could not, of course, be discarded carelessly.

Even the executed criminals from the execution grounds were buried.

And this task was assigned to the West Traveling Beggar Gang.

They did not bury them properly. Most were simply wrapped in straw mats, unless a kind soul donated, in which case they might use a cheap coffin.

Without regard for feng shui, they were buried randomly on the mountain.

This place was the Mass Burial Grounds of Xianyang.

After countless years of accumulation, the mountain was covered with ownerless graves. Tangled, old trees clung to the slopes, crows flew about, and packs of wild dogs roamed freely.

In the autumn rain, it was dim and gloomy, like the underworld.

Ordinary citizens of Xianyang City dared not come to this place.

Even Er Gou, a man from the Iron Saber Gang, felt a chill run down his spine at the sight. He couldn't help but spit and curse inwardly, "A bunch of pus-filled cowards, choosing to live in this damned place..."

Of course, he only dared to grumble in his heart.

The Beggar Gang of Xianyang was never to be trifled with.

Ever since the great drought and plague years ago, when the Maitreya Sect rebelled, the Beggar Den had moved into the mountains, their movements extremely erratic.

They claimed it was to avoid the ravages of war, but they never moved back even when peace returned.

Some suspected they had secret dealings with the Maitreya Sect. Even a Military Cavalry Commandant of Xianyang had secretly sent people to investigate, then led troops to search, hoping to gain some merit.

However, they always came up empty-handed.

Gradually, people became accustomed to the presence of the beggar den in the Mass Burial Grounds.

But in the Jianghu, there were even more legends about these beggars.

For instance, they possessed strange arts that could bewitch souls, and they often colluded with the human traffickers in the city to abduct women and children...

For instance, they could handle snakes and scorpions, and could even command the wild dogs here...

Several Jianghu swordsmen had offended the Beggar Gang and died mysteriously.

In short, this group of beggars was extremely sinister.

Now, as evening approached and night fell, coupled with the damp autumn mist, the light was very dim.

Er Gou's heart pounded. After dismounting, he picked up a lantern and walked forward cautiously, constantly looking left and right, paying attention to the sounds around him.

Gazing at the countless ownerless graves surrounding him, even though he was a man who wouldn't flinch at a few stab wounds, he felt his scalp tighten and his hair stand on end.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

As soon as he stepped onto the mountain path, the growls of wild dogs erupted.

In the dark, damp mist, pairs of blood-red eyes appeared.

Clang!

The man jumped in fright and quickly drew the saber at his waist.

The pack of wild dogs in the Mass Burial Grounds was also a terrifying presence in the legends of Xianyang City.

These creatures fed on corpses and were full of ferocity. Some had even seen them attack packs of wolves, so attacking a human was certainly not out of the question.

Recalling Master You's instructions, Er Gou, despite his fear, quickly sheathed his saber. He cupped his fists and shouted, "We drink the same river water, and share eternal youth. I, Lu Er Gou, have come to pay my respects. I hope you will show yourselves!"

As soon as the words fell, a reprimand sounded from afar.

Accompanied by the sound of beasts running, those pairs of red eyes quickly disappeared.

Er Gou's heart grew cold as he watched; this gang of beggars could indeed control wild dogs.

Soon, another dark figure appeared in the mist. Without a lantern, hunched over, he asked in a deep voice, "Where does our esteemed guest come from?"

"The Old Capital City of the Qin King."

"Do you know the weight of the Jianghu?"

"A total of four jin, twenty-three liang, five qian, four fen, nine li, and eight hao!"

"What are four fen, nine li, and eight hao?"

"The Four Seas, Jiujiang, and the Eight Rivers."

"Where does a fellow Daoist make his fortune?"

"I wouldn't dare. I follow Uncle Zheng to make a living."

"Let's go."

After a round of Jianghu code words, they had roughly figured out each other's backgrounds. The figure ahead finally lit a lantern, revealing an old beggar in tattered clothes, with messy hair and a dirty face.

Er Gou breathed a sigh of relief and followed closely behind.

Along the way, he always felt something watching him from the darkness, but he didn't dare to look too much, thinking that this gang of beggars was truly sinister.

Finally, after entering the mountains, a faint firelight appeared ahead