Dark Moon, High Winds

The night was deep, the wind whistling cold across the Yi River.

Having finished his martial arts training for the day, Chen Yuan walked along the bluestone path toward Hundred Herb Lane.

He found the usually tranquil street looking desolate and chaotic; debris from various households lay scattered across the ground, a scene of utter disarray.

Chen Yuan frowned and quickened his pace toward his aunt's home.

Pushing the door open, he immediately sensed something was wrong.

His uncle, Cheng Yong, had a visible bruise around his eye, as if he had been punched, and sat at the table sighing heavily.

Cheng Xiaoyu's eyes were red, likely from having just cried, while his aunt sat beside her, holding her daughter's hand and whispering words of comfort.

Seeing this, Chen Yuan asked in a low voice, "Uncle, what happened here? Did someone bully you?"

Cheng Yong sighed and slowly explained:

"I don't know what got into the Golden Blade Sect today. After they drove off the Black Dragon Gang, they went door-to-door, ransacking homes and looting valuables, demanding an exorbitant 'peace fee.'

But the Black Dragon Gang had collected their own fee just half a month ago, and we still need to set aside silver for the autumn taxes—how could ordinary families afford this? The men from the Golden Blade Sect were unreasonable and brutal, injuring many of our neighbors."

Chen Yuan's brows knitted together as he asked, "Uncle, how much silver did they want? They resorted to violence just because you didn't pay? Did you tell them I'm an initiate martial artist and work as a guard for the Li Family?"

He had assumed that since becoming an initiate, Qian Bao wouldn't dare come to collect fees anymore.

Furthermore, after receiving a month and a half of wages from the Li Family, he had insisted on returning the two taels of silver his aunt had given him earlier for emergencies; logically, they should have had the money.

Besides, the Golden Blade Sect should have known this household had a martial artist and wouldn't have dared to act so recklessly.

Cheng Yong sighed again:

"I told them I had a nephew who was an initiate martial artist, but the Golden Blade Sect thug just looked impatient and shouted that an initiate was worth nothing, threatening to beat me if I didn't pay up.

They demanded a full tael of silver for the fee, and out of desperation, I paid it. But when they saw Xiaoyu, they changed their tune, spouting nonsense about her being a jinx and saying they needed to take her away to 'ward off disaster.' I naturally refused, and that's when the argument started."

Chen Yuan's heart turned cold.

He realized then that the Golden Blade Sect had no intention of managing Hundred Herb Lane long-term; they were just here to loot as much as they could while they could.

They didn't even hold a martial artist like him in any regard.

He asked slowly, "And then? They didn't force the issue?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Cheng Xiaoyu. The girl was likely terrified, perhaps even consumed by guilt, feeling she had brought this trouble upon her family, which was why she was so heartbroken.

Cheng Yong shook his head, his voice bitter:

"A pack of bloodthirsty animals—how could they just let it go? I told them I was willing to pay two taels of silver but needed time to gather it, begging them to spare Xiaoyu.

They finally relented, but threatened that if they didn't see the silver by tomorrow, I'd never be able to stand on my own two feet again. The neighbors are full of grievances; I've heard that throughout Hundred Herb Lane, any family with a daughter of decent looks has suffered. Some paid to avoid disaster, while others had their young daughters taken away entirely."

As he spoke, Cheng Yong still looked shaken.

If he hadn't thought to offer money to buy time, he feared Xiaoyu would have been abducted as well.

And everyone knew the fate of those who were taken.

His aunt spoke up then, her voice heavy with worry: "A-Yuan, don't go looking for trouble with them. We'll just give them the two taels of silver tomorrow and treat it as a loss to avoid disaster."

She had heard that this group of Golden Blade Sect thugs had two initiate martial artists among them, and they were ruthless.

If A-Yuan acted on impulse and something went wrong...

Chen Yuan let out a breath and nodded: "Let's just pay to avoid disaster. Can the family still scrape together two taels? If not, I have some on me."

His aunt nodded: "It's fine, we have it."

The silver Chen Yuan had given her last time had remained untouched, kept for whenever he might need it.

She never expected it would be used for something like this.

Chen Yuan nodded and said softly, "Aunt, don't worry, it will be fine. I'm going to sleep now."

With that, he paced toward his own room.

Huang Juan felt a wave of relief seeing that Chen Yuan hadn't acted impulsively; she was truly afraid he would fly into a rage and go settle the score with the Golden Blade Sect single-handedly.

Although they had suffered today, Cheng Yong had only sustained minor injuries and they had lost some silver. As long as everyone was safe, everything would be alright.

Back in his room, Chen Yuan's eyes turned cold as frost.

He reached into the bottom of his cabinet, pulled out the black cloth he had used some time ago, and wrapped it around his head. He then drew a boning knife from under his mattress, tucked it into his waistband, and slipped silently out the window, vanishing into the night.

Hundred Herb Lane and the surrounding alleys had previously been the territory of the Black Dragon Gang, managed by a branch hall.

But since the Black Dragon Gang had been routed today and lost this territory, the hall had naturally been occupied by the Golden Blade Sect.

Chen Yuan lurked nearby and found the hall brightly lit, with rowdy noises spilling out—they were likely drinking and carousing.

Peering through the window at the shifting shadows, he counted about ten people in total.

Standing guard at the hall was a man with a fierce gaze. Chen Yuan observed the clear signs of tempering on his skin; he was likely one of the two initiate martial artists.

The fact that he was standing guard instead of drinking suggested he was likely wary of the Black Dragon Gang attempting a comeback.

With this one taken care of, the others shouldn't be much of a problem. Drink to your hearts' content; let's see how much combat power you have left by the end.

Chen Yuan lurked patiently, waiting for the right moment.

About half an hour later, another gang member appeared at the hall entrance. His face was flushed red, and after exchanging a few slurred words with the man on watch, he headed in Chen Yuan's direction.

His eyes were bleary with drink and his steps were unsteady; he unzipped his pants, intending to relieve himself in the nearby bushes.

His urge to urinate was rising, but Chen Yuan's intent to kill was even stronger.

A cold glint flashed in the darkness, and the sharp boning knife sliced across his throat in an instant, blood gushing out like a fountain.

He tried to cry out, but the next moment, his throat was crushed with brute force. Not a sound could escape; his body went limp, unable to even struggle, until his eyes rolled back and he breathed his last.

The man on watch noticed his subordinate hadn't returned from relieving himself and frowned, striding over while cursing:

"Damn it, that useless drunkard, taking forever just to take a leak. Where the hell did he die?"

He wasn't overly vigilant, assuming the subordinate had simply drunk too much and perhaps passed out while relieving himself.

However, as he drew closer, he didn't smell urine, but rather a faint scent of blood.

Having spent a long time in the gang, he was extremely sensitive to this smell. His heart skipped a beat and he moved to retreat, but it was already too late.

Chen Yuan, who had been waiting, lunged instantly. His tensed muscles erupted with astonishing speed, closing in like a tiger pouncing on its prey. The reverse-gripped boning knife trailed a suffocating cold light, striking directly at the man's throat.

The man was caught off guard, but in the face of death, he displayed incredible tenacity, throwing his head back desperately as he retreated to avoid a fatal blow.

But at such close range, facing a surprise attack from an expert wielding a sharp blade, it was a futile struggle.

Chen Yuan's right knee, already coiled and ready, slammed into the man's lower abdomen. The man inevitably doubled over like a shrimp, his arched neck snapping forward into a fatal position.

A flash of cold light, a burst of crimson, stained the deep night.

Chen Yuan couldn't help but get a splash of blood on the corner of his eye. He felt only excitement, his body trembling slightly. Dropping the man's corpse, he gripped his knife and walked, step by step, toward the hall.