A Lesson

"Who is it?"

"Your father."

"I..."

An inexplicable fire erupted from the man's heart.

He was about to unleash a torrent of abuse, the spit already gathering at his lips, but when he looked up and saw the figure standing in the doorway, his mouth snapped shut with a "click," the curses choking in his throat.

The person before him wore tattered hemp clothing, his face covered by a grimy old cloth that left only his eyes visible.

The veins on his exposed forearms bulged, his muscular contours sharp and defined, the explosive power hidden beneath the coarse fabric evident even from a distance.

With broad, upright shoulders, he stood in the doorway like a fierce tiger locking its gaze upon him.

At a glance, he was just like the martial artists he saw every day.

Someone not to be trifled with.

A smile, uglier than a grimace, immediately plastered itself onto his face:

"Heh heh, Father, what brings you to see your child so late?"

The fawning man before him was Zhou Cheng, the butcher who had reported the news of Li Yun selling stolen game to the Mountain Gang earlier.

When he had broken through to the Body Tempering Realm, he had wanted to teach this treacherous, spineless wretch a lesson.

After calculating, he realized he only had a ninety-eight percent chance of success.

So, he didn't act.

If the "umbrella" backing him showed up to help, it wouldn't be a pleasant situation.

Thus, he waited until he had mastered the Tiger Subduing Fist, bringing his confidence to ninety-nine percent.

Only then did he come to demand an explanation.

Unlike the Qian Brothers, who ran rampant in the village and treated the neighbors like fish on a chopping block, the Zhou Cheng before him was merely a dishonest, unscrupulous merchant who broke his word and skimped on weight.

A little punishment would suffice:

"Your father is a bit short on cash lately."

"I understand, I understand."

Zhou Cheng didn't dare let the fawning smile drop from his face as he scrambled to pull out a pair of dusty, coarse-cloth trousers.

He walked over to the wardrobe on the side.

He shifted the wardrobe half a foot to the side.

Crouching down, he pulled out a money bag from within.

He turned and ran to Li Yun, holding it high above his head with both hands, his waist bent until it was almost touching the ground.

His tone carried a hint of a sob, full of reluctance:

"Father!

This is all the wealth your child has.

I didn't dare hide any; it's all here.

I haven't dared to spend a single cent!"

As he spoke, Zhou Cheng deliberately shook the cloth bag.

It emitted a "clatter" of copper coins colliding.

His eyes, however, stole glances at Li Yun's reaction, terrified that the other party wouldn't believe him or would find the amount insufficient.

"Remember, when you sell meat in the future, don't inject it with water, don't skimp on weight, and don't break your word.

Otherwise, your father will be back again."

Having retrieved the money he had lost from the cut-rate sale, and even having a surplus, Li Yun did not pursue the matter further.

He turned and left.

Zhou Cheng peered through the crack in the door, confirming that Li Yun had departed.

He collapsed onto the threshold, his chest heaving violently, his back already soaked through with cold sweat, the hemp rope at his waist even coming undone halfway.

After catching his breath for a moment, he crawled up to close the door, not forgetting to slide the wooden bolt into place.

The woman beside him had already pulled the quilt tight, her face still etched with lingering terror.

Seeing Zhou Cheng in such a state, she couldn't help but edge closer to him:

"Husband, the silver has all been taken; how will we live from now on?"

Zhou Cheng suddenly grinned:

"Heh.

Do you take me for a fool?

I anticipated a day like this would come, so I hid the silver in two separate places.

What I handed over just now amounted to about ten taels in total.

The real haul is still in the hidden compartment under the stove!"

The woman's eyes brightened at these words.

"Really?"

Yet, still feeling unwilling, she sat up and asked with a frown:

"So we're just going to let it go? To be robbed for nothing like that—how infuriating!"

"What else can we do?"

Zhou Cheng rolled his eyes:

"Do you expect me to chase after that masked man and risk my life?

He could knock me flat with a single punch!"

The woman bit her lip, then suddenly remembered something and added:

"We pay our 'tribute' to the Wild Wolf Gang every month. Now that this has happened, shouldn't we go ask them for help to get it back?"

"Hmph, ask them?"

Zhou Cheng sneered, his face filled with both disdain and apprehension:

"Do you think the Wild Wolf Gang are good people?

They're a bunch of vultures who would eat you alive.

Not to mention whether they could actually get the silver back, even if they did, would they return it to us for free?

They'd probably demand a 'service fee' on top of it."

At this, Zhou Cheng sighed:

"Forget it, forget it. Let's just consider it a loss to avoid a greater disaster.

Losing this money is better than losing our lives.

From now on, we'll play by the rules with any unfamiliar customers.

Give them the full weight and stop playing those little tricks, lest we run into another tough character like that again. We might not be so lucky next time!"

Hearing her man put it this way, the woman said nothing more.

Before long, the rustling of movement echoed through the room once again.

"The stove?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of Li Yun's mouth as he crouched on the roof ridge.

Zhou Cheng had knelt down far too smoothly just now.

It was as if he had rehearsed it.

That had made Li Yun suspicious.

So, after leaving the courtyard, he doubled back and climbed onto the roof along the base of the wall.

Sure enough, this cunning fellow had kept an ace up his sleeve.

He carefully made his way to the kitchen.

Two stoves stood in the corners, one on the left and one on the right.

The left stove was clearly the one in daily use; unburnt ashes still remained in the hearth.

The rim of the pot was stained with grease, and an oil jar and salt pot sat nearby, full of the atmosphere of daily life.

As for the one on the right, a layer of dust had gathered at the stove mouth, and bundles of firewood were stacked in front of it.

The firewood wasn't stacked very high, and Li Yun cleared it away in a few moments.

He inspected it carefully for a while.

Finally, he felt something unusual above the firewood intake.

He pressed his fingertips firmly against the brick seam and pried, pulling out an object wrapped in layers of oilcloth.

As he unwrapped the layers, gleaming white silver ingots came into view.

"Tsk tsk, skimming off the top every day really helped you save up quite a bit."

He tucked the silver into his storage space.

He stuffed the oilcloth back into its original place, then gathered the firewood to restore everything to its former state.

There was barely a trace of it having been disturbed.

After checking once more to ensure nothing had been overlooked, he finally stepped out of the kitchen, vaulted over the courtyard wall without a sound, and vanished into the night.

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Zhou Cheng remained completely oblivious to the fact that his "home" had been robbed.

He was still "huffing and puffing" away at his plowing.

The next day.

The sky was just beginning to brighten.

Exhausted and shaken from the long night, Zhou Cheng still kept to his habit of rising early.

He sat up sluggishly and put on his clothes.

He placed both hands on his lower back and rubbed gently.

"Sss~"

"Dear, what's wrong?"

"Cough, cough, it's nothing. I must have strained it moving the cabinet last night."

Zhou Cheng explained immediately.

Gurgle~

His stomach chose that moment to growl, so Zhou Cheng stood up at once and left the bedroom.

"I'm a bit hungry. I'll head to the kitchen and see if I can find something to tide me over."

Arriving at the kitchen, Zhou Cheng squinted with sleepy eyes.

Yet, his gaze drifted involuntarily toward the stove on the right.

For some reason, an inexplicable sense of unease crawled up his spine.

Just one look, just one look to be sure.

He walked to the door, poked his head out to scan the courtyard, and seeing no one, he closed the kitchen door behind him.

He bent down to move the firewood, revealing the stove.

He reached out and fumbled through the brick crevice above the firebox.

"It's still here!"

The moment his fingertips touched the oilcloth, the stone in Zhou Cheng's heart dropped, and his mouth curled into a grin involuntarily.

Most of his lingering anxiety vanished.

He reached out to pull the oilcloth out, but as soon as he pulled it halfway, his expression changed drastically.

"No, the weight is wrong."

Zhou Cheng's heart skipped a beat, as if gripped by an invisible hand, and his breathing turned ragged in an instant.

He hurriedly pulled the entire oilcloth out, but where was there any sign of the half-tael of silver?

A piece of empty, crumpled oil paper shimmered with a cold luster in the dim morning light.

"Ah~ You goddamn bastard!"