Market Ward, Meat Trade Association.
Wu Ming's body had already been cleaned up from the Martial Arena.
Li Beichen wore the Tiger-Head Mask, crouched in the shadows at the corner of the wall beside the Martial Arena.
Like a tiger, he watched the association's second floor coldly.
The lights there were still blazing.
As the association's president, Zhou Zhongru naturally had a place to live in its rear courtyard.
He also had mansions in Market Ward and elsewhere.
And beautiful maids and concubines he kept.
Li Beichen had come here for one purpose: to kill.
In his heart, Zhou Zhongru had already earned his death.
This was his first stop. He'd come to the association to try his luck.
If he didn't find Zhou Zhongru, he would return to the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, then search elsewhere that night.
But now, as Li Beichen looked at the brightly lit tower,
a faint smile crossed his face.
"Lucky me. I won't have to go far. Zhou Zhongru should still be at the association."
His luck was good.
Naturally, Zhou Zhongru was about to have a very bad night.
The next moment,
Li Beichen moved like an ape, nimbly climbing the brickwork and wooden pillars until he reached the outside of the second-floor tower.
Through the paper window, he could make out two figures inside.
One of them was unmistakably Zhou Zhongru.
"Fourth, have you dealt with the relatives of that scoundrel Wu Ming?"
"I've sent them all packing for now, President."
"They dare come to the association and cause trouble? Do they really take me, Zhou Zhongru, for a soft touch? Tomorrow, we'll take back all the shops under Wu Ming's name."
"We need to do it quickly. We can't wait for that vulture Mo Changkun to catch on."
"Yes, President."
Thanks to his [Hunting] skill, Li Beichen had keen ears and eyes. Though they spoke softly, he heard every word.
Wu Ming had died that afternoon.
He'd been killed while working for Zhou Zhongru.
And that very night, Zhou Zhongru was already plotting to seize Wu Ming's property.
He called Mo Changkun a vulture.
At least Mo Changkun had shown up. Zhou Zhongru hadn't even left his tower after Wu Ming died.
Li Beichen wasn't surprised. In this world, he'd wandered from Bing Province to Jiangnan, fleeing famine along the way. He could say he'd seen nearly every shade of human evil.
People like Zhou Zhongru, a well-known association president, had even less decency than ordinary folk.
If anything, their bottom line was lower.
Or nonexistent.
Even in peaceful times, they were revolting to the core.
The conversation inside continued.
"One more thing. I've already spoken to Thunderbolt Martial Hall. Tomorrow, Fourth, go straight to Yang Tianyi."
"Li Beichen's just a brat. He might've beaten that useless Wu Ming, but can he really beat Yang Tianyi? An Eighth Rank martial artist can crush a Ninth Grade one with ease."
"I must get my hands on that braised-meat recipe!"
"Then, once we combine it with the Meat Guild—"
Zhou Zhongru was still imagining how he would make a grand fortune once he got his hands on the braised-meat business.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The window exploded, sending splinters flying.
Two Locust Stones shot inside like lightning, cutting through the air with piercing shrieks.
"President, watch out!"
Fourth, who worked for Zhou Zhongru, was also a Grade Entry expert.
In an instant, he flicked a short sword from his sleeve.
He tried to deflect the Locust Stones.
But in the blink of an eye, both stones shot in almost simultaneously.
Fourth could save only one person.
Himself, or Zhou Zhongru.
At the critical moment, Fourth chose to slash at the stone flying toward him.
Across from him, Zhou Zhongru's forehead shattered. The Locust Stone buried itself almost entirely in his skull.
His eyes were filled with disbelief.
Zhou Zhongru had been a Grade Entry martial artist thirty years ago, but decades of luxury and indulgence had left him completely unable to withstand Li Beichen's strike.
"President!"
Fourth roared and hurried over to check on Zhou Zhongru.
At the same time, he glanced out the window.
He saw a figure wearing a Tiger Mask leap down from the tower and disappear into the streets.
Barely had Li Beichen left when an even more burly man wearing an Ox-Head Mask appeared outside the association tower.
He leaped lightly and sprang onto the second floor.
Fourth was still drowning in grief over Zhou Zhongru's death.
Then he saw a burly man in an Ox-Head Mask appear in the room.
A sinewy, bulging-veined hand reached out toward him.
He hurriedly stabbed at it with his short sword.
To his surprise, the hand didn't even dodge. It reached straight for him.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Like pearls, big and small, falling onto a jade plate!
The short sword struck the hand with a clear, ringing sound, as if it had hit jade.
But it didn't even pierce the skin.
It left behind only a few white marks.
"A skin-tempering expert!"
Fourth let out a desperate wail. His head burst like a watermelon.
When it was done,
the man in the Ox-Head Mask picked up Zhou Zhongru and Fourth's remains as if they were a pair of chicks.
With a light leap,
he landed in the empty space in the association's rear courtyard.
The kitchen was right beside it, with a pile of firewood nearby.
The man in the Ox-Head Mask casually tossed the two bodies into the middle of the yard.
Then he grabbed an armful of firewood and covered them.
He took a large bundle of tinder from the kitchen.
He scattered it over the bodies.
Then he dropped a fire starter.
In no time, flames roared skyward.
In the firelight, the man's jade-white skin gleamed.
Back at the Hundred Flowers Pavilion,
Li Beichen settled the bill before returning to the private room.
He continued drinking and dining with the others.
He looked around but couldn't see his eldest senior brother, Zhang Meng.
His third senior brother, Wang Dao, was drinking against his fourth senior brother, Yang Ling.
"Third Senior Brother, where's Eldest Senior Brother?"
Wang Dao's face was flushed with drink. He turned and answered,
"Didn't Eldest Senior Brother go to the latrine too? You didn't see him, Old Seven?"
"Maybe we just missed each other."
As soon as he finished speaking, the private-room door swung open.
"I'm back!"
"I saw a peddler selling masks outside and bought one."
Zhang Meng held up an Ox-Head Mask for everyone to see.
At the same time, he flexed his swollen, blood-engorged biceps.
"Look. Doesn't this ox head go perfectly with my powerful muscles?"
"Hahaha..."
They all burst out laughing.
They drank late into the night before finally ending the feast.
They had training the next day, so everyone went home.
The moon shone bright.
Li Beichen parted ways with his senior brothers at an intersection.
He headed alone toward his two-courtyard residence.
His expression was thoughtful.
He was still thinking about what had just happened.
The Ox-Head Mask Zhang Meng had shown them was right beside the Tiger-Head Mask Li Beichen had picked up.
He knew Zhang Meng knew he'd gone to the Meat Guild.
"The Inner Courtyard is a web..."
Li Beichen murmured softly, recalling what Zhang Meng had said.
His gaze sharpened, and he turned around.
He headed straight back to Market Ward.
Before he reached it, Li Beichen saw flames soaring in the distance.
They came from the Meat Trade Association.
When he walked a few hundred meters closer, he saw the fire was confined to one spot and hadn't spread to the surrounding buildings.
Some yamen runners were already hurrying over.
The area was in an uproar.
Li Beichen stopped and watched for a while, then turned back without going any closer.
The next day, Li Beichen heard the news.
The Meat Guild's president, Zhou Zhongru, and his steward, Fourth, had both perished inside the association.
The fire had cremated their bodies.
Not a shred of evidence remained.
"Murder and arson... Is this how you cover for me, Eldest Senior Brother...?"
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