The silver ingot struck the bluestone slabs with a dull thunk.
Chen Ping stared at the silver, its surface gleaming coldly in the moonlight, and bent his back even lower.
He hurriedly crouched down and cupped the silver in both hands, his fingers trembling slightly. He wiped it again and again with his sleeve, a shrewd, fawning smile plastered across his face.
"This humble one understands, this humble one understands. Rest assured, Steward. Tomorrow, in the ring, I'll make sure to 'accidentally' lose in the most convincing fashion. I won't make your young master lift a finger."
The steward of Jin Manor looked down at him, snorted through his nose, and regarded him as if he were a mangy dog groveling for scraps.
"At least you know which way the wind blows. Take the money and get lost. If you dare pull any tricks, this Jinguang City may be big, but there'll be no place in it for a rat like you."
The steward flicked his sleeves and turned to leave with his two attendants. Their mocking voices drifted faintly on the wind:
"...He's nothing but a spineless worm. Toss him a bone and he'll yelp..."
Chen Ping remained bent over with the silver in his hands until the figures disappeared around the corner of the alley.
The night wind swept dead leaves across the ground and whipped at Chen Ping's thin clothes.
He straightened up, his formerly hunched frame growing a little taller.
"I took the money, so I have to lose. If I lose, I can't make the top ten. If I can't make the top ten, I won't have an official post to protect me."
Chen Ping gently rubbed his thumb over the silver ingot's rough surface, his heart as clear as a mirror.
The Jin Family was a colossus, and it had always acted with domineering arrogance.
This silver was less a toll to buy his way through than money to buy his life.
Once the Imperial Military Examination was over, the Jin Family would cover up the scandal of rigging the competition. As the spineless worm who knew too much, his only fate would be to float, dead, in the city moat.
Only the dead could keep their mouths shut.
"Since I'm going to die either way, I might as well send you on your way first."
Chen Ping tucked the silver into his robes and turned into the shadows, his steps light.
The third quarter of the midnight hour. The moon was hidden, and the wind howled.
Inside a dilapidated little house in West City Rat Alley, the candle had long since gone out.
Chen Ping skillfully pulled a cloth bundle from a hidden compartment beneath the bed.
Inside lay a tight-fitting black outfit for night raids and the Evil Ghost Mask that had once drunk Lai San's blood on a rainy night.
He changed, tied up his hair, and put on the mask.
His movements flowed together seamlessly, without the slightest hesitation.
He pushed open the window and slid down along the wall like a gecko. Using the Light Body Movement Technique, he tapped a toe lightly against the roof tiles and soared several yards away, landing without a sound.
The steward of Jin Manor hadn't gone straight back to the manor.
Chen Ping had spent years among the stalls of the Market and knew the habits of stewards from great families.
After completing a job and handling a hefty sum of silver, most of them would head to a Pleasure House or a tavern for a pot of flower wine, where they could flaunt their authority.
Just as he'd expected, in a secluded alley not far from the Drunken Spring Pavilion, Chen Ping caught the familiar scent of cosmetics and alcohol.
The steward hummed lewd songs as he staggered ahead. He had already sent his two attendants away, apparently hoping to pocket the rest of the spoils himself.
"In this world... hic... as long as you follow the right master, even a dog can eat well and drink its fill..."
The steward belched and leaned against the wall, about to undo his belt and relieve himself.
Just then, a gust of sinister wind swept up behind him without warning.
Though the steward had practiced a few years of rudimentary martial arts, he instinctively sensed something amiss. The hairs all over his body stood on end. He whirled around and barked:
"Who's there?!"
A hand, swelling rapidly out of the darkness, was his only answer.
It was a strange bluish gray, its knuckles thick, and it came with enough force to shatter stone. It was so fast that he didn't even have time to cry out a second time.
Crack!
The sharp snap rang through the silent alley.
It was the sound of his throat bone breaking.
The steward's eyes bulged. He clutched his crushed throat with both hands, wheezing through his mouth as blood and foam welled between his fingers.
He stared at the black-clad figure wearing the Evil Ghost Mask, his eyes filled with terror.
That figure... Why did he look a little familiar?
Chen Ping gave him no time to think. He pushed the steward's chest with his left hand, sending a penetrating force straight into his heart and cutting off his life.
The body went limp. Chen Ping caught it and gently lowered it to the ground without making a sound.
From the sudden attack to setting down the corpse, the whole thing had taken no more than a blink.
Chen Ping crouched and began searching the "dead man."
First, he retrieved the hundred taels of silver. That was his principal.
Then he found several large banknotes, worth about three or four hundred taels. They were probably the steward's usual take from embezzlement.
Inside the steward's inner robe, Chen Ping felt a small booklet.
He opened it in the faint moonlight, and his pupils contracted slightly.
The pages were densely packed with the names of candidates bribed by the Jin Family, along with each candidate's weaknesses and secrets.
"A hot potato."
Chen Ping immediately shut the booklet and tucked it into his robes.
If this fell into the wrong hands, it would be enough to deal the Jin Family a crippling blow. But if anyone found out he had it, even ten lives wouldn't be enough to save him.
After dealing with the spoils, Chen Ping took a porcelain bottle from his waist.
It was an inheritance from Wang Meng: Corpse Dissolving Powder.
He skillfully sprinkled the yellow powder evenly over the corpse's face, fingerprints, and wounds.
Sizzle, sizzle...
A teeth-grating hiss rose, accompanied by acrid yellow smoke.
The corpse's face rapidly rotted away, dissolving into a foul-smelling pool of yellow water.
Chen Ping picked up the disfigured remains, carried them to the stinking ditch at the end of the alley, and kicked them in.
Splash.
The filthy black water surged up, swallowing the once-arrogant steward of Jin Manor in an instant.
When he was done, Chen Ping carefully checked the area. Only after confirming there were no footprints or other traces did he melt back into the night and disappear.
Back in his little house in Rat Alley, Chen Ping didn't rush to rest.
He lit the brazier and tore up the register, page by page, tossing each into the fire.
The flames danced, reflecting off his utterly expressionless face.
He had no desire to be a hero who exposed corruption, nor did he want to be dragged into the infighting of the great Aristocratic Clans.
He only wanted to stay alive, take Yun Niang with him, and seek longevity in peace.
Keeping the register would only invite disaster. Burning it was the cleanest solution.
Watching the final scraps of paper turn to ash, Chen Ping let out a long breath. He sat cross-legged on the bed and assumed the stance for the Longevity of Pine and Crane.
He had killed someone and seen blood that night; it was only natural for his thoughts to be unsettled.
But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
The overwhelming terror of that split second between life and death had instead focused his mind completely.
As he breathed in and out, a warm current flowed slowly through his Meridians, washing away his agitation.
His proficiency ticked up by another point on the panel.
After an unknown length of time, the sky outside the window began to pale with the first light of dawn.
Chen Ping opened his eyes. A glint flashed in them, then they returned to their usual dull, wooden expression.
He pulled the iron saber he usually kept beneath the bed for self-defense and took out a clean piece of cotton cloth, carefully wiping the blade.
The saber was nothing valuable and had several nicks, yet under his careful polishing, it still reflected a chilling light.
Its gleam revealed his face, calm as a Dry Well.
The disappearance of the Jin Manor steward would surely make Jin Shijie suspicious, and then furious.
Tomorrow's decisive battle would be a true storm.
But so what?
Chen Ping sheathed the saber and lightly tapped the tabletop with his fingers, producing a soft knock.
Anyone who blocked my path to longevity could be killed.
Before you continue