Substitute Scapegoat

Chen Ping crouched beside the bed, running his fingers along the gaps between the blue bricks, inch by inch. Only when he felt that familiar layer of dust did his hanging heart settle a little.

He lifted the loose brick. The inconspicuous little cloth bundle was still there.

When he opened it, he found fifty-three taels of silver and several small-denomination banknotes, all safe and sound.

"Phew..."

Chen Ping let out a long breath, only to realize that a layer of cold sweat had broken out across his back.

When he'd entered the room just now, he'd keenly noticed that the pillow had been shifted half an inch to the left, and that the creases in the bedsheet had been smoothed out.

It definitely hadn't looked like that when he'd gotten up.

Someone had searched his bed while he was away.

Chen Ping leaned close to the pillow and sniffed. The cheap scent of osmanthus hair oil hit his nose. It was the stuff Lai San from the servants' quarters loved to use. He claimed it covered up the sour smell on his body, but in truth, it made people's heads ache.

"Lai San..."

Chen Ping wrapped the silver up again, tucked it back into the hidden compartment, and carefully sprinkled a layer of loose dust over it.

Lai San was a gambling addict. His debts must have driven him desperate, so he'd used his patrol as an excuse to search for valuables.

Luckily, Chen Ping had been careful and hidden most of his money beneath the brick. If he'd kept it in his pillow or a cabinet, he would've taken a heavy loss today.

Though no money had gone missing, Chen Ping's eyes were still shadowed with gloom.

He couldn't let someone snore beside his bed.

That afternoon, in the main hall of Lin Manor.

The atmosphere was a little peculiar.

Seated at the head of the hall was a middle-aged man in brocade training clothes. His face was ruddy as a jujube, his temples bulged high, and his broad, thick palms were covered in calluses.

He was Jin Zhenshan, master of Iron Palm Martial Hall in Jinguang City, and one of the examiners for the preliminary round of this year's Imperial Military Examination.

Master Lin wore a broad smile as he personally poured tea for Master Jin. His back was slightly bent, his manner steeped in a merchant's shrewdness and flattery.

"Master Jin, you see, my Yici may be a little unruly, but he's absolutely sincere about the martial path. This year's Imperial Military Examination..."

As he spoke, Master Lin quietly slid a banknote to the edge of the teacup.

Jin Zhenshan didn't even raise his eyelids. He lifted the cup, took a sip, and replied blandly:

"Master Lin, the Imperial Military Examination is the Imperial Court's grand event for selecting talent. Though I'm an examiner, I wouldn't dare bend the rules or play favorites. However, if your son truly has talent, I'll naturally be glad to nurture him."

As he spoke, he gave his sleeve a slight flick. The banknote on the table vanished into thin air.

Chen Ping, standing in a corner as part of the background, felt his pupils contract sharply.

What a swift hand.

"Of course, of course!"

Master Lin beamed with delight and hurriedly shot a look at Second Young Master Lin Yici, who stood in the middle of the courtyard. "Yici, why don't you show Master Jin what you can do?"

Lin Yici wore a tight-fitting martial outfit that day. He looked almost presentable in it.

With a loud shout, he took his stance and performed a set of Subduing Tiger Fist that the Lin Family had paid a hefty sum to acquire.

"Hey! Ha!"

His fists stirred up a whoosh of wind. It looked impressive enough.

But to a trained eye, it was nothing more than monkey business.

His steps were unsteady, his stance weak, and his punches powerless. Wine and women had long since hollowed him out. Halfway through the set, he was already panting, his face pale.

As Jin Zhenshan watched, his brows knitted together. At last, he simply closed his eyes and shook his head again and again.

The smile on Master Lin's face stiffened. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he was so mortified he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

Just then—

"Neigh—!"

A piercing whinny came from the side gate.

A moment later, hurried hoofbeats rang out.

For some reason, a tall horse that had been startled broke free of its reins and charged madly into the courtyard, careening straight toward the main hall.

Its eyes were bloodshot, and white foam dripped from its mouth. It had clearly been terrified.

"Ah! Help!"

Lin Yici, still practicing his fist, was directly in its path. Seeing the crazed horse charging toward him like a small mountain, he was so frightened that his legs gave way and he collapsed onto the ground. His trousers were soaked in an instant, and a foul stench spread through the air.

The wild horse reared up. Its front hooves were about to crush Lin Yici's chest.

Beneath the covered walkway, Chen Ping's muscles tensed abruptly. His right hand instinctively formed a palm blade, and the Longevity of Pine and Crane surged rapidly through his body.

Should he save him or not?

If he acted, he would surely expose his strength.

If he didn't, and the Second Young Master died, Lin Manor would descend into chaos. He might be able to fish in troubled waters, but he could also be dragged down and buried with the family in their anger.

In the blink of an eye, Chen Ping forcibly stopped himself.

Because he saw that Jin Zhenshan, who had been seated the whole time, had moved.

There was no wasted motion.

Jin Zhenshan merely swayed, and then he was beside the wild horse like a ghost. He casually raised his right hand and struck the horse's head with a light slap.

"Smack."

The frenzied steed collapsed without even a whinny. Its massive body slammed heavily into the ground, blood streaming from its seven orifices. It died on the spot.

The courtyard fell silent.

Only Lin Yici's teeth chattered with a clacking sound.

Standing in the shadows, Chen Ping's heart pounded violently, and his palms were slick with sweat.

This was a true master of internal martial arts!

That palm had looked feather-light, but its inner force had penetrated to the bone, shattering the horse's brain.

If that palm struck a person...

"Hmph. Lin Manor's rules have certainly opened my eyes."

Jin Zhenshan took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand with distaste. He looked coldly at the dead horse and the Second Young Master with his soaked trousers, his voice full of contempt.

Only then did Master Lin come to his senses. His face turned paper-white, then ashen.

Humiliating!

Utterly humiliating!

Not only had he failed to get what he wanted, but Master Jin had also witnessed a disgraceful spectacle, and his son had nearly lost his life.

"Guards! Who was responsible for this horse?!"

Master Lin roared, his voice so sharp it nearly broke.

"It... it was Lai San..."

The steward tremulously pointed at Lai San, who was huddled by the gate, already white with fear.

Lai San had wanted to sneak into the kitchen to pilfer some food and drink while the honored guest was visiting. He'd forgotten to lock the stable door, and who could have known that the horse would get spooked and bolt out?

"Drag that dog of a servant away! Give him thirty strokes of the board! Throw him out of the manor! He's never to be hired again!"

To salvage his reputation before Jin Zhenshan, Master Lin was especially cruel and heartless.

"Spare me, Master! Spare me!"

Lai San was carried off, wailing, by two burly servants. They pinned him face-down over a bench in the courtyard.

"Smack! Smack! Smack!"

The boards landed with dull, heavy thuds that were horrifying to hear, accompanied by Lai San's piercing screams as they echoed through the courtyard.

Master Lin stole a glance at Jin Zhenshan. Seeing his expression ease a little, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

By the time the thirty strokes were over, Lai San's skin was split and torn, and blood covered his lower body. He was dragged toward the gate like a dead dog.

As he passed beneath the covered walkway, Lai San managed to raise his head. His bloodshot eyes fixed on Chen Ping.

In his mind, since Chen Ping had been on duty in the courtyard, he must have seen that the stable was left unlocked. But he'd deliberately said nothing, just to frame him.

The look in his eyes was venomous with hatred.

Chen Ping's expression remained wooden. He lowered his gaze and acted like a frightened fool, but his heart gave a thump.

It was no good to have a mad dog hold a grudge against him.

"Master Jin, please forgive the spectacle." Master Lin wiped away his sweat and smiled apologetically. "The servants are ignorant of the rules. Actually, there are some servants in my manor who do know their place. Chen Ping!"

To lighten the mood and prove the Lin Family wasn't full of useless people, Master Lin suddenly called Chen Ping by name.

"This humble one is here."

Chen Ping hurried over, knelt on the ground, and trembled slightly, playing the part of a lowly servant to perfection.

"This lad has practiced a few farmhand tricks. Though he can't compare to your disciple, he's at least kept himself fit. Chen Ping, perform a set of fist techniques for Master Jin and liven things up."

Chen Ping cursed inwardly. Was Master Lin treating him like a performing monkey?

But he didn't dare disobey, so he could only stand up with a deferential murmur.

"This humble one... this humble one only knows the Longevity of Pine and Crane. It's... it's for keeping in good health..."

"Doesn't matter. Let's see it," Jin Zhenshan said casually.

Chen Ping collected himself and took his stance.

This time, he didn't hide the movements of the Longevity of Pine and Crane, but he deliberately slowed the pace and concealed the force of his blood and qi, which surged like quicksilver. He showed only the ease and steadiness of the movements.

He imitated a frail old man, slowly tracing circles through the air. Every move looked soft and powerless, without the slightest hint of lethality.

When he finished the set, Chen Ping had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He bowed and stood to one side.

Jin Zhenshan glanced at him and gave a soft snort. "All show, no substance. But his stance is steady, and his breathing is fairly long. Though it's completely useless for combat, it's a sound foundation for prolonging one's life."

At the words "completely useless," Master Lin looked a little disappointed, but also relieved. At least Chen Ping hadn't embarrassed himself like the Second Young Master.

"Get out of here. I'll reward you with two taels of silver." Master Lin waved a hand.

"Thank you for the reward, Master. Thank you for your guidance, Master Jin."

Chen Ping thanked them profusely and withdrew.

Only after he had left the main hall's field of view did his normally stooped back straighten for a moment. The humility vanished from his eyes, leaving only a cold gleam.

Completely useless?

As long as you lived long enough, that was the greatest use of all.

At dusk, the setting sun was red as blood.

In an alley behind Lin Manor.

Chen Ping carried a bucket of slops, pretending to be going to dump it, while his eyes swept over the dark red bloodstain outside the manor gate.

That was where Lai San had been thrown out.

According to Old Zhang at the gatehouse, several hooligans who usually kept Lai San company had come to collect him. Before leaving, he'd even spat a mouthful of blood at the Lin Manor gate and swore he'd take revenge.

The Lin Family were rich and powerful. Lai San couldn't get revenge on Master Lin or his sons.

But he knew where Chen Ping lived, knew Chen Ping had money, since he'd become a foreman, and knew Chen Ping had a lover named Yun Niang.

"A thousand days of being a thief won't keep you from being robbed for a thousand days."

Looking at the bloodstain as it slowly dried, Chen Ping pictured Lai San's venomous, twisted face.

Since they'd already made enemies of each other, there was no point leaving a grudge to fester overnight.

The young man set down the bucket of slops and gently rubbed the sharp dagger tucked into his sleeve.

Tonight, under the moonless sky and howling wind, was a good night for murder.