A Lesson

"Who?"

"Your father."

"I..."

A nameless fury surged up in the man's heart.

He was about to unleash a string of curses. The spittle had already risen to his lips, but then he looked up and saw the figure standing in the doorway.

His mouth snapped shut with a click, and the curses stuck fast in his throat.

The man before him wore a tattered hemp robe. A grimy piece of old cloth covered his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

The veins stood out on his bare forearms, their muscles sharply defined. Even through the coarse fabric, one could see the explosive strength hidden beneath.

Broad-shouldered and straight-backed, he stood in the doorway.

Like a fierce tiger staring him down.

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

Not someone to mess with.

A smile uglier than a grimace immediately spread across the man's face.

"Heh heh, Father, what brings you to see your son so late at night?"

The obsequious man before him was Zhou Cheng, the butcher who had earlier reported Li Yun to the Mountain Gang for secretly selling his game.

When he broke through into the Body Tempering Realm, he had wanted to teach this two-faced scoundrel a lesson.

He had calculated the odds: only ninety-eight percent in his favor.

So he had held back.

If the man's "backer" came to help, things could get ugly.

So he waited until he had mastered Tiger Subduing Fist and reached a ninety-nine percent chance.

Only then had he come to demand an explanation.

Unlike the Qian Brothers, who ran wild through the village and treated their neighbors like fish on a chopping board, Zhou Cheng was just a man who went back on his word and shortchanged his customers. At worst, he was an unscrupulous businessman.

A little punishment would be enough.

"Your father's a little short on cash these days."

"I understand, I understand."

Zhou Cheng didn't let the fawning smile slip from his face as he hurriedly fumbled around for a pair of dusty, coarse-cloth trousers.

He walked over to the wardrobe.

He shifted it half a foot to the side.

Then he squatted down and took out a money pouch.

Turning around, he hurried over to Li Yun, raised both hands high above his head, and bent so low his waist nearly touched the ground.

His voice carried a hint of tears and reluctance.

"Father!

"This is everything your son owns.

"I didn't dare hide a thing. It's all here.

"I haven't spent a single coin!"

As he spoke, Zhou Cheng even gave the pouch a deliberate shake.

The coins inside clinked together.

But he secretly watched Li Yun's reaction, afraid the other man wouldn't believe him or would think it wasn't enough.

"Remember this. From now on, when you sell meat, don't water it down, don't shortchange people, and don't go back on your word.

"Otherwise, your father will be back."

Li Yun had gotten back the money he'd lost, and then some.

So he didn't press the matter any further.

He turned and left.

Zhou Cheng peered through the crack in the door, making sure Li Yun was gone.

Then he collapsed onto the threshold, his chest heaving. His back was drenched in cold sweat, and even the hemp cord around his waist had come half undone.

After a while, he dragged himself to his feet and shut the door, remembering to slide the wooden bar into place.

The woman beside him had already pulled her quilt tight around herself, her face still stricken with fear.

Seeing Zhou Cheng like this, she couldn't help edging closer.

"Dear, he took all our money. How are we going to get by now?"

But Zhou Cheng suddenly grinned.

"Heh heh.

"You think I'm a fool?

"I saw this coming a long time ago, so I hid the money in two different places.

"What I gave him just now was about ten taels in all.

"The real stash is still in the secret compartment beneath the stove!"

The woman's eyes brightened at his words.

"Really?"

But she still seemed reluctant to let it go. Sitting up, she frowned and asked,

"So we're just going to let this go? Someone robbed us blind, and we're not even going to do anything about it? How pathetic!"

"What else can we do?"

Zhou Cheng rolled his eyes.

"Should I chase after that masked man and fight him to the death?

"One punch from him would knock me flat!"

The woman bit her lip. Then she seemed to remember something and said,

"We pay the Wild Wolf Gang 'tribute' every month. Now that this has happened, why not ask them for help getting the money back?"

"Hmph, ask them?"

Zhou Cheng sneered, his face full of disdain and wariness.

"What makes you think the Wild Wolf Gang are any good?

"They're a bunch who'd eat you alive and leave no bones behind.

"Never mind whether they can get the money back. Even if they do, will they return it to us for free?

"They might even demand a 'service fee' from us."

At that, Zhou Cheng sighed.

"Forget it. Let's just consider it money spent to ward off disaster.

"Better to lose money than lose our lives.

"From now on, we'll be more careful with customers we don't know. Give them full weight and stop trying to be clever. We don't want to provoke another tough customer like that. We might not be so lucky next time!"

After hearing what her husband had to say, the woman fell silent.

Before long,

the room filled with rustling sounds again.

"The stove?"

Li Yun, perched on the roof ridge, curled his lips into a smile.

Zhou Cheng had knelt far too smoothly just now.

As if he'd rehearsed it.

It had left Li Yun suspicious.

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

Sure enough, the treacherous fellow had kept something hidden.

He carefully made his way into the kitchen.

Two stoves stood side by side in the corner.

The stove on the left was clearly used every day. Ashes still remained in the firebox, not yet fully burned.

Grease ringed the edge of the pot. An oil jug and a salt jar sat nearby, giving the place a lived-in feel.

The one on the right had a layer of dust over its opening, and bundles of firewood were piled in front of it.

The pile wasn't very tall. Li Yun cleared it away in a moment.

He inspected the area carefully for a while.

At last, he felt something strange above the wood-feeding opening.

He pressed his fingertip into the gap between the bricks and gently pried something loose: an object wrapped in layers of oilcloth.

He peeled away the layers of oilcloth, revealing gleaming silver ingots.

"Tsk, tsk. You've saved up quite a bit by shortchanging people all these years."

He stored the silver away in his storage space.

Then he tucked the oilcloth back where he'd found it, restacked the firewood, and restored everything to how it had been.

There was hardly any sign that anything had been disturbed.

After checking once more to make sure he'd missed nothing,

he left the kitchen, silently vaulted over the courtyard wall, and disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, Zhou Cheng in the bedroom had no idea his "home" had been robbed.

He was still grunting away, plowing the field.

The next day.

The sky had just begun to lighten.

Despite being frightened and working hard all night, Zhou Cheng was still in the habit of getting up early.

He slowly sat up and got dressed.

Then he put both hands on his lower back and gently rubbed it.

"Ahh..."

"Dear, what's wrong?"

"Ahem, nothing. I might've twisted it while moving the wardrobe last night."

Zhou Cheng quickly explained.

Gurgle—

His stomach happened to growl, so he immediately got up and left the bedroom.

"I'm a little hungry. I'll see if there's anything in the kitchen to tide me over."

When he reached the kitchen, Zhou Cheng squinted through his bleary eyes.

Yet his gaze inevitably landed on the stove on the right.

For some reason, a nameless unease crept up his spine.

"Just one look. I'll just check."

He went to the doorway and peered into the courtyard. Seeing no one around, he turned and closed the kitchen door.

He bent down, moved the firewood, and exposed the stove.

Then he reached up to feel along the crack between the bricks above the wood-feeding opening.

"It's still here!"

The moment his fingertip touched the oilcloth, the stone in Zhou Cheng's heart dropped, and a grin crept onto his face.

Most of his worries had melted away.

He reached out and pulled the oilcloth free, but as soon as he'd drawn out half of it, his expression changed.

"Something's wrong. It doesn't weigh enough."

Zhou Cheng's heart gave a sudden thud, as if an invisible hand had squeezed it. His breathing grew ragged.

In a panic, he pulled the whole oilcloth package free. But where were the silver ingots?

All that remained was a crumpled, empty sheet of oilpaper, its sheen cold in the weak morning light.

"Ahhh! You bastard!"