Blade in the Rainy Night

To keep the Pearl Households under control—and squeeze another layer of profit from them—the Sea Shark Gang had set up a crude grain shop inside Pearl Village, monopolizing all grain trade in the village.

They forced the Pearl Households to buy their rations there, calling it convenient management and guaranteed supply.

The prices were slightly higher than in the county town, but considering the time and strength needed for a round trip to town, not to mention the trouble one might encounter along the way, most Pearl Households endured it without fierce resistance.

Now, Mother Chen had no choice but to visit this Sea Shark Gang-controlled grain shop more and more often.

Under the cover of night, by the faint light of an oil lamp, Father Chen and Mother Chen quietly discussed what to do.

As Mother Chen patched old clothes, she murmured anxiously, "His father, Ah Yue's appetite... If we keep buying like this, even Wang Mazi at the grain shop is looking at us strangely. The other day, he was beating around the bush, asking whether our family was planning something, why we'd suddenly started using so much grain."

Chen Shan leaned against the head of the bed, rubbing his injured leg, his brows knotted tight. "Yes. A place like Pearl Village is more dangerous than the undercurrents in the sea. The moment your life gets even a little better, seagulls come pecking at you. Those wolves of the Sea Shark Gang, and those neighbors... Standing out too much isn't a blessing. It's a disaster."

The husband and wife exchanged a glance, each seeing the worry in the other's eyes.

They were not afraid of hardship for themselves. They only feared their son's appetite would draw unnecessary attention.

In the end, Mother Chen sighed. "After some time passes, I'll cry poverty to Wang Mazi again. I'll say the head of the household's leg needs nourishing, and the child is still growing... Sigh, I just hope we can muddle through."

Another three days slipped away amid unending rain and faint anxiety. Outside the window, lightning writhed like serpents, sometimes bleaching the ruined Pearl Village stark white, followed at once by crashing thunder that shook dust from the roof tiles.

Less than four days remained until the deadline for Martial Examination registration, and the string in Chen Yue's heart was drawn tighter and tighter.

He had to make another trip out as soon as possible, go into town to find the Broker, and settle the registration.

The best—and only—excuse was still to buy medicine for his father. As for the five taels of silver needed to get through the door, he had long since planned to sell the other medium pearl he had harvested. It should be enough.

Raindrops the size of beans hammered densely against the roof and the sea-mud walls, creating an irritating clamor.

Chen Yue was not asleep. Sitting cross-legged in the shadows of the outer room, he silently circulated the Mountain-Climbing Art. His inner breath surged like a tide through the gaps between thunderclaps. With every full circulation, he could feel his blood and qi strengthen by a thread, the foundation of his Skin Refining Realm firming by another measure.

From the inner room came his parents' steady, exhausted breathing. In this violent rainy night, it was the only background sound that put his heart at ease.

Just as Chen Yue's mind sank deep, forgetting both self and world, an exceedingly faint sound utterly different from the wind and rain pierced through the curtain of rain and entered his ears.

The sound came from the neighboring house, separated by only one wall.

Chen Yue's eyes snapped open, a gleam flashing through the darkness. As his cultivation steadily deepened, the Mountain-Climbing Art's breakthrough beyond its limits had brought him not only strength, but a complete sharpening of his five senses.

He could already clearly distinguish the footsteps of familiar people in the village. Uncle Zhang's steps were slow and heavy, with a limp; Aunt Zhang's were quick and light; their boy's steps always skipped and bounced unpredictably.

But what entered his ears now was an unfamiliar, heavy tread—certainly not anyone from Uncle Zhang's family!

Next came the rustling sound of someone rummaging through things, rough and entirely undisguised. It continued for a while, then stopped abruptly.

Chen Yue's heart sank slightly.

Sure enough, the next moment, a faint scraping sound of metal against wood came from the flimsy wooden door of Chen Yue's home.

By the occasional lightning flashing past the window, Chen Yue saw a narrow blade slip through the crack in the door and lightly pry upward.

Click!

The crude wooden bolt behind the door fell at once.

The door was silently pushed open a crack. A black figure soaked through by the rainy night slipped inside sideways, then pulled the door nearly shut behind him. Rainwater dripped from the edges of his straw raincoat, spreading a small dark patch over the muddy floor.

Once inside, the man did not pause in the slightest. As if he had returned to his own home, he began searching with practiced familiarity.

He first lifted the lid of the rice jar for a look, then reached behind the hanging pots and utensils to feel around.

He then walked to the broken wooden chest piled with odds and ends in the corner and began rummaging through it without ceremony. Old fishing nets and cracked wooden basins were casually shoved aside, making soft but distinct clattering sounds.

His movements were skilled yet rough, carrying an unhurried arrogance born of having nothing to fear. He was not worried in the least about waking the sleeping people inside.

Almost the instant the disturbance sounded in the outer room, Father Chen and Mother Chen's steady breathing from the inner room suddenly became lighter and slower, until it was nearly inaudible.

They were awake.

Yet there was no cry of alarm, no sound of them getting up. Even their breathing was suppressed with all their strength.

Chen Yue was already lying on his bed, his body hidden in darkness. Only his eyes were narrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on the shadow rummaging through the room.

There was no need to guess. This was a Sea Shark Gang member taking advantage of the rainy night to extort a little something. Nominally, it was a patrol inspection; in truth, it was brazen theft, perhaps even robbery.

This was not the first such night. Every time, his parents had warned Chen Yue, "If you hear something, don't open your eyes, don't make a sound. Pretend to sleep until dawn."

They used their belongings to buy a moment of peace.

After searching the outer room and finding nothing valuable, the shadow seemed somewhat irritated. He kicked the low stool beside his feet, producing a loud clatter.

Just then, his gaze landed on an inconspicuous broken clay jar in the corner. He walked over, reached inside, and pulled out a small bundle wrapped layer upon layer in old cloth.

When he opened the bundle, there was a broken pearl no bigger than a little fingernail. In the eyes of the Pearl Households, this was money for everyday living.

By the lightning outside the window, the shadow examined the broken pearl, then tucked it into the leather pouch at his waist.

Chen Yue knew that this broken pearl was toll money his parents had prepared long ago.

It had been placed in that easily discovered corner specifically for unexpected visitors like tonight's. This was the humblest survival wisdom of Pearl Households at the bottom: lose wealth, and perhaps disaster could be warded off.

But after pocketing the broken pearl, the shadow did not turn and leave as Chen Yue had expected. He stood where he was, weighed the leather pouch in his hand, and spat on the ground in extreme dissatisfaction.

"Damn it, poor ghosts! Nothing but worthless junk!" he cursed under his breath, his tone brimming with anger. He had visited several homes tonight, yet gained little from any of them. That only stirred up more violence within him.

The next moment, he actually gripped his knife, turned around, and strode without hesitation toward the door of the inner room. His boots slapped wetly against the muddy floor, the sound especially clear in the silent night.

Bang!

The wooden plank door to the inner room was brutally shoved open with his scabbard, smashing against the wall with a piercing crash that nearly drowned out the rain outside.

A bolt of lightning flashed at that very moment, instantly outlining the figure in the doorway: a soaked straw raincoat, black cloth covering his face, revealing only a pair of eyes brimming with ferocity, and the short knife in his hand gleaming with icy light.