A Lesson

He set down the sack of rice on his shoulder.

His gaze rested calmly upon Zhao the Scabby.

Zhao the Scabby, who had been clamoring noisily just a moment ago, was suddenly enveloped by a tall, imposing shadow at the doorway.

The figure merely stood there, silent, yet it made Zhao the Scabby feel a sudden constriction in his chest.

Zhao the Scabby turned back to see the tall, sturdy Lin Qing standing in place, his thick, muscular arms bared to the air.

His eyes, in particular, shone with a frightening intensity that made one feel a sense of dread.

Zhao the Scabby couldn't help but tremble inwardly.

Yet, seemingly recalling something, he stiffened his neck and said, "Young Master Lin, you've returned just in time. Your sister is short-changing people on her medicine; tell me, how do you intend to handle this?"

Seeing her brother, Lin Wan felt as if she had found her backbone and said urgently, "A-Qing, I didn't. I weighed it perfectly clearly."

Lin Qing cast a reassuring look at his sister, his expression softening immediately.

He cupped his hands toward Zhao the Scabby: "So it is Uncle Zhao. Perhaps my sister was momentarily negligent and misread the scale. It is a trivial matter; why get so worked up?"

Such gentle words left the troublemaking Zhao the Scabby stunned, feeling as though he had punched a pile of cotton.

"Then how do you intend to settle this?" Zhao the Scabby asked instinctively.

Lin Qing turned, entered the pharmacy, took a generous portion of Hemostatic Powder from the cabinet, and shoved it into Zhao the Scabby's hands.

He said in a mild tone: "Consider this pack of herbs compensation from Benevolent World Hall; the weight is only more, not less. Tell me, is this acceptable?"

Zhao the Scabby had not expected Lin Qing to be so easy to talk to; he opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing more.

He took the herbs and weighed them in his hand; they were indeed substantial.

A look of triumph appeared on his face as he scoffed, "This is more like it. You're a sensible lad."

With that, as if afraid Lin Qing might go back on his word, he tucked the herbs away, pushed through the crowd, and scurried off.

The onlookers, seeing that the excitement was over, gradually dispersed, feeling bored.

Back inside the shop, Lin Wan remained indignant, her eyes slightly red: "A-Qing, why did you give in to him? That Zhao the Scabby is a notorious rascal on this street, always looking to extort people. It was clearly him being unreasonable."

Lin Qing closed the shop door, his expression calm, and poured his sister a cup of water:

"Sister, I know. Entangling oneself with such people—even if you win the argument, you lose time and peace of mind, and it harms the shop's reputation."

"A bit of cheap hemostatic herb is enough to send him away and keep things quiet."

Lin Wan was still resentful: "But this is too stifling. Besides, I heard that this Zhao the Scabby offended the Black Mud Gang a while back and owes gambling debts. The Black Mud Gang has been coming to trouble him lately."

"He's neck-deep in his own mess, yet he dares to come and provoke us!"

Lin Qing's eyes flickered. The Black Mud Gang?

If that was the case, he would have to move Zhao the Scabby up on his schedule.

Lin Qing nodded, saying nothing more.

He simply comforted his sister: "Evil will eventually be met with its own retribution. Don't take it to heart, Sister."

That night, the moon was dark and the wind was high.

Lin Qing changed into dark night-traveling clothes, stuffing wooden boards into his shoulders to make his frame appear even larger.

He vaulted over the wall, covering his nose and mouth with a black cloth.

He left Benevolent World Hall without a sound.

His goal was clear: he headed straight for the dilapidated shantytown at the end of Yongning Street where Zhao the Scabby lived.

Before he even got close, he heard the sound of Zhao the Scabby's fawning laughter from within.

And, another voice that sounded somewhat familiar.

He crept beneath the window and looked through a gap.

Inside, the oil lamp was dim, and Zhao the Fourth was drinking with a middle-aged man in silk robes who had a sinister expression.

The table was laden with wine and meat, including beef, mutton, and pig ears.

That middle-aged man was none other than Pan An, the manager of the rival Security Hall.

Lin Qing's eyes narrowed. This Pan An had repeatedly caused him trouble; now, it was perfect—he would deal with them both at once.

"Brother Pan, rest assured, that Lin boy is a coward."

"Today, I made a small scene, and he obediently compensated me with herbs, not daring to let out a single fart!"

Zhao the Scabby scratched his scabby head, shedding a flurry of dandruff, and boasted with a triumphant face.

A look of disgust flashed in Pan An's eyes as he sipped his wine and sneered:

"Well done. Next time, find an excuse to go and make a scene a few more times. Ruin the reputation of his Benevolent World Hall and see how much longer he can hold out."

It was indeed Pan An pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

A cold glint flashed in Lin Qing's eyes, and he hesitated no longer.

He circled around to the front and pounded hard on the door.

"Who is it? At this hour of the night!"

Zhao the Scabby's disgruntled muttering drifted through, but he did not open the door immediately.

"Bang!"

The door was kicked open with a violent force.

Greeting him was a massive cloud of pungent, stinging lime powder.

"Ah, my eyes!"

Zhao the Scabby let out a startled cry, covering his face with both hands as he stumbled backward.

Lin Qing slipped into the room, slammed the door shut behind him, and lowered his voice to a sharp, menacing growl: "Zhao the Scabby, when are you going to pay back the money you owe the Black Mud Gang?"

"Do you really think we run a charity?"

Without waiting for a reaction, he unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks like a rainstorm.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Zhao the Scabby was immediately beaten to the ground, his face bruised and swollen.

"Ouch, spare me! Spare me, good sir!"

"I'll pay the money back, I swear!"

Zhao the Fourth rolled across the floor, wailing and crying for his parents; his drunkenness had vanished entirely, replaced by boundless terror.

Pan An, who had been inside the room, was stunned by this sudden turn of events.

Once he regained his senses, he grabbed a wooden club from the wall and shouted with a fierce, hollow bravado: "What kind of madman are you, daring to commit violence here? Do you know that I am a man of the Pan Family?"

Seeing Pan An rushing out with a howl.

"I don't care who you are, pay up!"

Lin Qing didn't waste a single word on him, side-stepping the incoming club.

He delivered a fierce kick straight to Pan An's crotch.

Snap!

The sound of shattering eggs echoed through the room.

"Aaaah!"

With his vital parts crushed, Pan An's eyes bulged instantly as he let out a shriek that sounded barely human.

The wooden club slipped from his hands, and he curled up on the floor like a shrimp, writhing in agony.

Lin Qing picked up the wooden club from the floor, showing no mercy.

He unleashed another round of punches and kicks on the two of them.

As he struck, he kept his voice disguised and cursed angrily: "I'll teach you not to pay up! You dare to stiff the Black Mud Gang? You're courting death!"

"And you, you piece of trash, you're the helper this bastard brought in, right?"

"You're no good either, take this!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Lin Qing didn't hold back his strength, though he avoided their vital organs.

He beat them as if he were trying to kill them.

Soon, the two were beaten into limp piles of flesh, lying on the floor in their own filth, moaning incessantly.

Only when he felt the lesson was sufficient.

Lin Qing let out a cold snort, treated them to another dose of lime powder, and began ransacking the room.

A moment later, Lin Qing pulled the door shut and locked it from the outside.

He vanished without a trace.

The next morning.

Zhao the Scabby and Pan An were found unconscious in the dilapidated house.

The news of them being covered in wounds and lying in their own filth.

Spread across Yongning Street as if it had grown wings.

When Lin Wan heard the news, she was startled at first.

Then, she felt the pent-up frustration in her heart ease significantly.

She couldn't help but whisper: "They deserved it. It must have been the people from the Black Mud Gang; it's truly retribution!"

But while eating breakfast, she looked suspiciously at Lin Qing, who appeared as calm as ever, and asked tentatively: "A-Qing, have you heard about what happened to Zhao the Scabby and Steward Pan?"

Lin Qing picked up some pickled vegetables with his chopsticks, his face showing just the right amount of surprise: "I heard. Sister, what about it?"

"Was it you..."

Lin Wan stopped, leaving her words hanging.