A Lesson

He set down the sack of rice from his shoulder.

His gaze calmly settled on Zhao the Scabby.

Zhao the Scabby had been making a racket, but suddenly a tall shadow loomed over him at the doorway.

The shadow simply stood there without saying a word, yet Zhao the Scabby felt his heart tighten.

Zhao the Scabby turned around and saw Lin Qing standing there, tall and broad, his muscular arms bared.

Especially those eyes, bright enough to frighten anyone, made him seem even more intimidating.

Zhao the Scabby couldn't help but tremble inwardly.

But he seemed to remember something and immediately jutted out his chin. "Young Master Lin, you're back just in time. Your sister shortchanged me when she sold me medicine. What are you going to do about it?"

When Lin Wan saw her younger brother, it was as though she'd found someone to rely on. She hurriedly said, "A-Qing, I didn't! I weighed it very carefully."

Lin Qing gave his sister a reassuring look, then softened his expression.

He cupped his hands toward Zhao the Scabby. "So it's Uncle Zhao. Perhaps my sister was careless for a moment and misread the scale. It's a small matter. Why get angry?"

His gentle words left Zhao the Scabby, who had come looking for trouble, momentarily stunned. It felt like his fist had struck a wad of cotton.

"So how do you plan to handle it?" Zhao the Scabby asked instinctively.

Lin Qing turned and went into the medicine shop. He took a generously filled packet of Hemostatic Powder from the cabinet and pressed it into Zhao the Scabby's hands.

In a mild tone, he said, "Consider this packet of medicine compensation from Benevolent World Hall. There's no shortage in the weight; if anything, there's extra. How does that sound?"

Zhao the Scabby hadn't expected Lin Qing to be so accommodating. He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing more.

He took the medicine and weighed it in his hand. It was indeed generously filled.

A smug look immediately spread across his face. He snorted, "That's more like it. You've got some sense, boy."

With that, as if afraid Lin Qing might change his mind,

he tucked away the medicine, shoved through the crowd, and scurried off.

Seeing there was no more excitement to watch, the onlookers gradually dispersed, disappointed.

Back inside the shop, Lin Wan was still seething, her eyes rimmed with red. "A-Qing, why did you let him push you around? Zhao the Scabby is a notorious street thug, always looking to swindle people. He was clearly just making trouble."

Lin Qing closed the shop door. His expression remained calm as he poured his sister a cup of water.

"Sis, I know. Getting tangled up with people like him means that even if you win the argument, you lose your time and peace of mind—and it hurts the shop's reputation."

"It was just a packet of worthless hemostatic herbs. Giving it to him got rid of him and bought us some peace."

Lin Wan was still indignant. "But it's so frustrating. And I heard Zhao the Scabby got on the Black Mud Gang's bad side a while ago and owes them gambling debts. Their people have been coming around to hassle him lately."

"He's a mess all on his own, and he still dares to come after us!"

A faint glint passed through Lin Qing's eyes. The Black Mud Gang?

If that was the case, Zhao the Scabby had just moved up his list.

Lin Qing nodded, saying nothing more.

He only comforted his sister. "The wicked have their own tormentors. Don't let it get to you, Sis."

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

Lin Qing changed into dark clothes, stuffed a plank into his shoulders to make himself look taller,

then vaulted over the wall and covered his nose and mouth with black cloth.

He slipped away from Benevolent World Hall without a sound.

He headed straight for Zhao the Scabby's home, in the ramshackle shantytown at the end of Yongning Street.

Before he even got close, he heard Zhao the Scabby's ingratiating laughter from inside.

And another voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

He crept beneath the window and peered through a crack.

Inside, an oil lamp cast a dim glow. Zhao the Fourth was drinking with a middle-aged man in a silk shirt, his face sinister.

The table was laden with food and drink: beef, mutton, and pig ears.

The middle-aged man was none other than Steward Pan An of Security Hall, across the street.

Lin Qing narrowed his eyes. Pan An had repeatedly made trouble for him. This was the perfect chance to deal with both of them at once.

"Brother Pan, don't worry. That Lin boy is a coward."

"I barely had to make a fuss today before he obediently gave me the medicine. He didn't dare say a word!"

Zhao the Scabby scratched his scab-covered head, sending flakes of dandruff tumbling down as he proudly took credit.

A look of disgust flashed through Pan An's eyes. He took a sip of wine and sneered.

"Nicely done. Find another excuse next time and go stir up trouble for him a few more times. Ruin the reputation of his Benevolent World Hall and let's see how long he can hold out."

So Pan An really was the one pulling the strings.

A cold glint flashed in Lin Qing's eyes. He no longer hesitated.

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

"Who is it? At this hour?"

Zhao the Scabby's annoyed muttering came from inside. He didn't open the door right away.

"Bam!"

The door was kicked open.

A large cloud of stinging, pungent lime powder burst toward him.

"Ah, my eyes!"

Zhao the Scabby cried out, covering his face with both hands as he stumbled backward.

Lin Qing darted inside, shut the door behind him, and lowered his voice to a fierce growl. "Zhao the Scabby, when are you paying back the money you owe the Black Mud Gang?"

"Did you really think we run a charity?"

Without waiting for a response, he rained down punches and kicks.

Thud, thud, thud!

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

"Ow! Spare me, hero, spare me!"

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

Zhao the Fourth rolled around on the floor, wailing for his mother and father. The wine had completely sobered him up, leaving nothing but sheer terror.

Pan An, inside the room, was stunned by the sudden turn of events.

When he came to his senses, he snatched up a wooden club from beside the wall and shouted with more bluster than courage, "What kind of thug are you, causing trouble here? Do you know I'm with the Pan Family?"

Pan An charged out, the club whooshing through the air.

"I don't care who you are. Pay up!"

Lin Qing didn't waste words. He sidestepped the swinging club.

Then he drove a savage rising kick into Pan An's crotch.

Crack!

The sound of breaking eggs rang out.

"Ah!"

Pan An's vital parts had been struck. His eyes bulged as he let out a scream that sounded more animal than human.

The wooden club fell from his hand. He curled up on the ground like a shrimp, writhing back and forth.

Lin Qing snatched up the wooden club from the floor and showed no mercy.

He gave the two of them another beating, kicking and punching without pause.

As he beat them, he pinched his voice and cursed, "That'll teach you not to pay your debts! You dare cheat the Black Mud Gang? You're asking to die!"

"And you! You must be the bastard's hired muscle, right?"

"You're no good either. Take this!"

Thud, thud, thud!

Lin Qing didn't bother holding back, careful only to avoid striking their vital parts.

He beat them as if he meant to kill them.

Before long, the two were as limp as mud, sprawled on the ground in their own filth and moaning incessantly.

When he figured they'd had enough,

Lin Qing gave a cold snort, treated them to another faceful of powder, then went inside and rummaged through the place.

A little while later, Lin Qing pulled the door shut behind him and locked it from the outside.

Then he vanished.

The next morning.

Zhao the Scabby and Pan An were found unconscious inside the ruined house.

News of their battered bodies, covered in bruises and lying in their own filth,

spread through 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 anger in her chest ease.

She couldn't help murmuring, "Serves them right. It must've been the Black Mud Gang. That's karma!"

But over breakfast, she glanced suspiciously at Lin Qing, who looked completely at ease, and cautiously asked, "A-Qing, have you heard about Zhao the Scabby and Steward Pan?"

Lin Qing picked up a bite of pickled vegetables. His face showed just the right amount of surprise. "I've heard. What is it, Sis?"

"Was it you...?"

Lin Wan trailed off.