Root Them Out

Autumn rain fell without letup.

The sky was terribly overcast. Before the hour of Shen, the horizon had already turned dark and gloomy.

At the side gate of Lin Manor, Chen Ping held an oil-paper umbrella and carried a bundle against his chest. He handed a packet of freshly bought pipe tobacco to Uncle Wang, the gatekeeper.

"Uncle Wang, you're on duty even in weather like this? My distant great-uncle is gravely ill. He sent word asking me to see him one last time, so I'm afraid I won't be back tonight."

Chen Ping's face showed a trace of anxiety and grief. His eyes were slightly red, and he shivered faintly in the cold wind.

Uncle Wang took the tobacco and held it beneath his nose. Its pungent aroma caused his deeply wrinkled face to relax.

"Go on, go on. You're a dutiful child. Be careful on the road in this wretched weather. Don't fall into a ditch."

"Of course. I'll be careful."

Chen Ping thanked him profusely and clasped his hands in farewell before turning and disappearing into the rain.

As soon as he turned the corner, all the grief vanished from his face, leaving only a stillness like a pool of stagnant water.

He didn't head for the slums south of the city. Instead, he turned and went straight out through the northern gate.

The rain grew heavier, pattering against the oil-paper umbrella.

Chen Ping stopped in an unoccupied grove, put away the umbrella and hid it, then took a black rain cape from the bundle against his chest and draped it over himself. He also pulled out a hideous, blue-faced mask with fangs and fastened it over his face.

According to the information he'd bought from beggars over the past few days, after Lai San had been driven out of Lin Manor, he gathered a gang of ruffians and had been holed up in a dilapidated Mountain God Temple on Five Mile Slope, beyond the city.

Five Mile Slope. The Broken Temple.

The ruined walls did nothing to stop the howling wind blowing through the temple. A bonfire burned in its center, and several ragged men sat around it warming themselves, passing a greasy roast chicken from hand to hand.

One of Lai San's legs was still lame. He'd injured it when he fell after Master Jin slapped a mad horse to death the last time, fright leaving his legs weak. Now he was viciously tearing into a chicken leg, his face full of malice.

"Third Brother, are we really going through with this?"

A sharp-faced ruffian hesitated. "Lin Manor may not be some grand household, but they still have guards..."

"What's there to be afraid of?"

Lai San spat out a chicken bone, his eyes gleaming with venom. "Lin Yici is a good-for-nothing. He's lying in bed half-dead right now. We won't go into the manor. We'll ambush them on the road when they're out buying supplies."

Lai San wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth and gave a sinister smile.

"I've already looked into it. There's a little widow in Lin Manor's Inner Kitchen named Yun Niang. She's a real beauty. We'll kidnap her. That way, we can extort a pile of silver from that little bastard Chen Ping, and the brothers can have some fun..."

At some point, a dark figure had appeared at the temple entrance.

The person wore a rain cape and a blue-faced, fanged mask. In the flash of lightning, he looked just like a demon crawling out of hell.

"Who's there?!"

Lai San's heart lurched. He grabbed a fire poker and shouted sharply.

The dark figure said nothing, only lifting his head slightly. The icy eyes behind the mask fixed on Lai San like nails.

"Yun Niang..."

A hoarse, low voice came from beneath the mask, carrying a chill that made one's hair stand on end. "You think you can call her by name?"

Before the words had even faded, the figure moved.

With Light Body Movement Technique paired with the long, unbroken inner energy of Longevity of Pine and Crane, Chen Ping's figure left a blur in the air.

"He's a tough one! Get him together!"

Lai San shouted in terror. The four ruffians beside him reacted as well, snatching up the sticks and rocks within reach and charging.

Chen Ping neither dodged nor retreated. As a wooden club came crashing down toward his head, he reached out with his left hand, clamped around the ruffian's wrist like iron tongs, and twisted hard.

"Crack!"

The crisp snap of breaking bone rang especially loud in the rainy night.

Before the ruffian could even scream, Chen Ping's right hand shot out like a heavy hammer.

The palm strike looked ordinary, but it carried penetrating force.

His palm struck the ruffian's chest. The man was blasted backward and slammed into the statue. His chest caved in, and blood mixed with bits of his innards sprayed from his mouth. He was clearly as good as dead.

"Second Brother!"

The remaining three ruffians were scared out of their wits.

Chen Ping stepped through the crowd with Plum Blossom Step, his figure darting about like a ghost.

Every blow was accompanied by the sound of bones breaking.

He used no flashy moves. Every attack was direct and deadly.

The throat, the heart, the temples—every strike was fatal.

In just three breaths, no one remained standing in the Broken Temple except Lai San.

Lai San sat crumpled on the ground, a large wet patch spreading across his crotch. The fire poker had long since fallen from his hand.

He watched the masked demon stride toward him. His teeth chattered, and tears and snot streamed down his face.

"Hero, spare me! Hero, spare me! I... I was only talking. I never really dared to touch Yun Niang! I have money. I made a lot of money at Lin Manor. It's all yours..."

Chen Ping stopped in front of Lai San and looked down at him.

Rainwater dripped from his cape, mixing with the blood on the ground and trickling away.

"Next life, remember to keep your mouth shut."

Chen Ping's voice held no trace of emotion.

Lai San's pupils suddenly contracted. He was just about to scream.

Chen Ping's right hand had already pressed down on the crown of his head.

He released his inner force.

Pfft.

Lai San's pleas cut off abruptly. Blood flowed from all seven orifices, and he slumped limply to the ground.

Silence returned to the Broken Temple. Only the bonfire crackled, casting its light over the corpses strewn across the floor.

Chen Ping removed his mask, revealing a cold, expressionless face.

He took a porcelain bottle from his chest, shook some Corpse Dissolving Powder onto the wounds, then dragged the corpses outside the temple with practiced ease.

A branch of the moat flowed not far from the temple. After several days of heavy rain, the river had swollen, its current raging.

"Splash. Splash."

After several muffled splashes, the murky river swallowed all their sins.

When he had finished, Chen Ping stood by the river and let the cold rain wash his hands.

Killing someone was like anything else: the first time was hard, the second came easier.

On the way back, the rain began to let up.

Chen Ping took shelter beneath an old locust tree and straightened his slightly disheveled clothes.

Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation in his Dantian. The inner energy stirred up by the killing had yet to settle and was racing wildly through his Meridians.

The Longevity of Pine and Crane, which had been stuck at the peak of the second layer, unexpectedly began to loosen under the impact of that surging killing intent and blood energy.

"Relaxed Stillness and Naturalness... motion and stillness in harmony..."

A sudden flash of insight came to Chen Ping. He immediately assumed the Pine and Crane Stance and regulated his breathing.

The hot current inside him was like floodwaters bursting through a dam, rushing into every limb and bone before finally converging in his eyes and ears.

The world around him suddenly came into sharp focus.

He could clearly sense the paths of raindrops as they fell, the scuttling of insects in the distant grass, even the trembling of water droplets on the veins of the leaves.

The light screen before him trembled faintly.

[Skill: Longevity of Pine and Crane (Third Layer, Mastery 1/5000)]

[Effect: Sharpened senses, surging vitality, freedom from illness. Lifespan increased to eighty-eight years.]

Chen Ping opened his eyes. A flash of light gleamed in them and vanished, and he returned to his usual gentle, restrained composure.

"Who knew killing could be so invigorating?"

He clenched his fist. The strength surging through him had multiplied several times over.

If he faced Lai San and the others again now, he wouldn't even need to use Shattered Stone Palm. The sheer force of his blood and vitality would be enough to smash them to death.

By the time he returned to Lin Manor, the lamps were being lit.

As if nothing had happened, Chen Ping took several still-warm Osmanthus Cakes from the oil-paper wrappings layered around them inside his clothes.

He'd bought them specially from the best pastry shop in the city and had kept them close to his body to keep them warm.

In the little courtyard of the Inner Kitchen, Yun Niang was sitting under the lamplight, mending clothes. Hearing footsteps, she raised her head. Her eyes lit up when she saw Chen Ping return unharmed.

"Brother Ping, why were you gone so long? You're soaked."

Yun Niang hurriedly set down her work and fetched a dry cloth. Rising onto her toes, she gently wiped the rain from Chen Ping's hair.

"My great-uncle was pretty sick, so we talked for a while."

Chen Ping let her wipe his hair and smiled with an honest, simple air. He took the Osmanthus Cakes from his clothes as if presenting a treasure.

"On my way back, I passed Su Xiang Zhai and remembered you liked them, so I bought a few. Eat them while they're warm."

Yun Niang looked at the cakes, so carefully protected, and warmth filled her heart. She chided him,

"You're wasting money again. The pastries at Su Xiang Zhai are frightfully expensive."

"For you, no price is too high."

Chen Ping picked up a cake and held it to Yun Niang's lips.

Her cheeks flushed faintly. She took a small bite, and the sweet fragrance of osmanthus spread across her lips and teeth.

As he watched Yun Niang smile contentedly while eating the cake, Chen Ping lightly rubbed his hands together inside his sleeves.

His hands were long and strong. Although his knuckles bore the calluses of years of labor, they were clean.

"Three more months..."

Chen Ping looked out at the ink-dark night beyond the window, silently calculating.

In three months, registration for the Imperial Military Examination would close.

Now that Longevity of Pine and Crane had broken through to the third layer, it was time to come clean.