The night was deep, the Yi River sighed, and the west wind cut cold.
After a day of martial arts training, Chen Yuan walked along the bluestone path toward Hundred Herb Lane.
But the once-peaceful street was now desolate and disordered. Household odds and ends lay scattered across the ground outside many homes, leaving everything in disarray.
Chen Yuan frowned and quickened his pace toward his aunt's house.
The moment he pushed the door open, he could tell something was wrong.
His uncle, Cheng Yong, had a conspicuous bruise around his eye, as if someone had punched him. He sat by the table, sighing heavily.
Cheng Xiaoyu's eyes were red; she had clearly just been crying. Her mother sat beside her, holding her daughter's hand and gently comforting her.
Chen Yuan saw them and asked in a low voice, "Uncle, what happened? Did someone bully you?"
Cheng Yong sighed and slowly explained:
"Today, for some reason, the Golden Blade Sect went mad. After driving off the Black Dragon Gang, they went from house to house, rummaging through everything and taking valuables. They demanded a hefty fee for protection.
"But the Black Dragon Gang collected that fee just half a month ago, and we still have to set aside money for the autumn tax. How could an ordinary family afford it? The Golden Blade Sect's men were unreasonable and brutal, and they hurt quite a few of our neighbors."
Chen Yuan knitted his brow and asked, "Uncle, how much did they demand? Did they attack you because you wouldn't pay? Did you tell them I'm an Initiate Martial Artist and work as a guard for the Li Family?"
He had thought that ever since he became an Initiate Martial Artist, Qian Bao wouldn't dare come around collecting protection money.
And after receiving a month and a half of wages from the Li Family, he had eventually managed to return the two taels of silver his aunt had given him earlier, despite her repeated attempts to refuse. It was supposed to be for emergencies, so they should have had enough money.
Besides, if the Golden Blade Sect knew someone in the household was a martial artist, they shouldn't dare cause trouble.
Cheng Yong sighed.
"I told them I had a nephew who was an Initiate Martial Artist, but one of the Golden Blade Sect's men just looked impatient and shouted that an Initiate Martial Artist was nothing. He threatened to attack if I didn't hand over the money.
"They demanded a whole qian of silver for protection. I had no choice but to pay, but then they saw Xiaoyu and changed their tune. They made up some nonsense about her being a jinx and said they had to take her away to ward off disaster. Naturally, I refused, and that's how the argument started."
Chen Yuan's heart turned completely cold.
He could see it clearly now: the Golden Blade Sect had no intention of ruling Hundred Herb Lane for the long term. They were here to rob people—grabbing whatever they could while they could.
They didn't even take a martial artist like him seriously.
He asked slowly, "What happened after that? They didn't keep pressing you?"
As he spoke, he glanced at Cheng Xiaoyu. The girl had probably been frightened, and perhaps blamed herself for bringing trouble upon her family. That was why she was so distraught.
Cheng Yong shook his head and said bitterly:
"How could a pack of red-eyed beasts just let it go? I told them I was willing to pay two taels of silver, but that I needed time to gather it, and begged them to spare Xiaoyu.
"Only then did they back down. They threatened that if they didn't see the money tomorrow, we'd never stand up again.
"The whole neighborhood is up in arms. I asked around and found out it was only here in Hundred Herb Lane, but any family with a pretty daughter who caught their eye had been targeted. Some paid to make the trouble go away, and they even abducted the young daughters of several households."
As he spoke, Cheng Yong still looked shaken.
If he hadn't offered them money and tried to buy time, Xiaoyu might have been abducted too.
And anyone could imagine what happened to the girls who were taken.
His aunt spoke up then, her face clouded with worry. "A-Yuan, don't go looking for trouble with them. Just give them the two taels of silver tomorrow and make the trouble go away."
She had heard that the Golden Blade Sect's men were backed by two Initiate Martial Artists, and that they were vicious.
If A-Yuan acted on impulse and something happened to him...
Chen Yuan breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. "Then we'll pay to make the trouble go away. Do we still have two taels of silver at home? If not, I have some on me."
His aunt nodded. "It's all right. We still have enough."
She had kept the silver Chen Yuan gave her last time, untouched, thinking she would return it whenever he needed it.
She hadn't expected it would be used for something like this.
Chen Yuan nodded and said softly, "Aunt, don't worry. Everything will be all right. I'm going to bed."
Then he walked toward his room.
Huang Juan saw that Chen Yuan wasn't acting rashly and felt relieved. She had been afraid he would fly into a rage and go after the Golden Blade Sect alone.
They had suffered today, but Cheng Yong was the only one injured, and their loss was only some silver. As long as everyone was safe, things could still be set right.
Back in his room, Chen Yuan's eyes turned icy cold.
He took the black cloth he had used a few days earlier from the bottom of the cabinet, wrapped it around his head, then pulled a Bone-Cleaving Knife from beneath the mattress and strapped it to his waist. He slipped soundlessly out the window and vanished into the night.
Hundred Herb Lane and the surrounding streets had once belonged to the Black Dragon Gang, which had set up a branch hall to manage the area.
But the Black Dragon Gang had been routed today and lost its territory, so the Golden Blade Sect had naturally taken over the hall.
Chen Yuan lurked nearby and saw that the hall was brightly lit. Noisy voices spilled out; they were probably drinking and carousing.
He watched the shadows shifting behind the windows. There were about ten people in all.
A fierce-looking man stood guard outside the hall. Chen Yuan studied his skin and saw clear signs of tempering. He was probably one of the two Initiate Martial Artists.
He was on guard instead of drinking, most likely to watch for the Black Dragon Gang returning to retake the territory.
Once he took this man out, the rest shouldn't be a problem. They were drinking so merrily—let's see how much fight they had left afterward.
Chen Yuan stayed hidden, patiently waiting for his chance.
Nearly half an hour later, another gang member appeared at the hall, his face flushed red. He mumbled a few words to the man on guard, then headed toward Chen Yuan.
His eyes were bleary with drink, and his steps were unsteady. He pulled down his pants, ready to relieve himself in the grass nearby.
His urge to piss was strong. Chen Yuan's urge to kill was stronger.
A cold glint flashed in the darkness. The sharp Bone-Cleaving Knife swept across the man's throat, and blood gushed out.
He tried to cry out, but the next instant, his throat bone was crushed with a brutal squeeze. Not a sound escaped him. His body went limp; he couldn't even struggle. At last, his eyes rolled back, and he died.
When the guard saw that his underling had not returned, he frowned and strode over, cursing as he went:
"Damn it, you useless drunk! How long does it take to piss? Where the hell did you go?"
He wasn't especially wary. He assumed the underling had drunk too much and had probably passed out while relieving himself.
But as he got closer, he didn't smell urine. Instead, he caught a faint whiff of blood.
Long accustomed to life in the gangs, he was acutely sensitive to that smell. His heart jolted, and he started to retreat—but it was already too late.
Chen Yuan, who had been waiting for the moment, sprang forward. His coiled muscles unleashed astonishing speed, and he closed in like a Fierce Tiger Pouncing on Prey. The Bone-Cleaving Knife, held in a reverse grip, flashed with a suffocating gleam as it thrust straight for the man's throat.
Caught off guard, the man still summoned astonishing resilience in the face of death. As he retreated, he desperately leaned his neck back to keep from being killed in one strike.
But at such close range, against an expert launching a surprise attack with a weapon in hand, it was a futile struggle.
Chen Yuan's right knee was already primed. It slammed into the man's lower abdomen, forcing him to double over like a shrimp. His neck, arched backward, lurched forward into a fatal position.
A flash of steel. A burst of red. Blood dyed the deep night.
Blood spattered the corner of Chen Yuan's eye. He only felt exhilarated; his body trembled faintly. He dropped the man's corpse, gripped the knife, and walked step by step toward the hall.
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