Slaying Men, Slaying Ghosts

Master Li could see nothing amiss and could only sigh. Cupping his hands, he said, "Since that is the case, we'll have to trouble you officers. I hope you'll take extra care with the matters to follow."

"It's our duty, our duty," the constable replied with a smile.

Li Jiwu stepped forward at the right moment, pulled several silver ingots from his sleeve, and discreetly slipped them into the lead constable's hand. In a gentle voice, he said, "You officers have worked hard. This is just a small token for the brothers to have some tea."

The constable weighed the silver in his hand, and the smile on his face immediately grew several shades brighter. "Second Young Master, you're far too courteous! Rest assured, we'll handle Steward Li's affairs properly. We'll first send him to the Public Mortuary for the Coroner to go through the formalities. In a couple of days, we can return the body to the Li Family, so Steward Li can be laid to rest as soon as possible."

With that, several constables worked together to lift Steward Li's body onto a wooden cart and slowly pushed it toward the Public Mortuary.

Li Chengwen stood where he was, watching the cart recede into the distance, tears pouring down his face like rain.

Li Jiwu stood behind him, the grief on his face unchanged, yet a flicker of barely perceptible delight flashed through his eyes.

News of Steward Li's death spread throughout the Li Family. Shen Chu caught wind of it while eating in the dining hall, but merely shook his head and remarked on the fickleness of life before thinking no more of it.

He had never shared much of a relationship with Steward Li. Though the man had spoken up for him once, that kindness had been born more from a weighing of interests than any deep friendship.

After work that evening, he returned to his little house as usual, planted himself firmly in a horse stance in the courtyard, and began practicing the Stone-Shattering Fist.

Punch after punch flew forth. The wind of his fists gradually rose, while the force within his body slowly circulated along with it.

He practiced for more than two hours. Just as he was entering the zone, the air around him abruptly turned cold without warning.

It was not the crisp chill of the late-night wind, but a sinister, bone-piercing cold. The candle flame beside him suddenly flickered several times before going out with a soft puff.

Shen Chu's pupils contracted sharply, and he instinctively twisted aside!

A pitch-black claw swept through the spot where he had been standing, leaving a warped black trail hanging in the air!

Shen Chu flipped back onto his feet and looked closely.

A translucent black shadow floated in the courtyard. Its outline was blurry, vaguely humanoid, yet its face was savage and twisted.

Its eyes were blood-red, thick black mist coiling around its body. A low growl issued from its mouth.

The sound seemed to come from an impossibly distant place, yet it also seemed to explode directly inside his mind.

What the hell?

Though Shen Chu knew this world contained demons, monsters, and ghosts, seeing one in the flesh still made his heart tighten!

But strangely, he did not feel much fear. Instead, a scorching surge of blood and vitality rose from his dantian and spread through all four limbs and every bone in his body!

Shen Chu did not yet know that this was the [Spirit of Blood and Courage] brought about by becoming a Martial Artist.

When facing evil entities, it would activate automatically, steadying its bearer's mind and multiplying his courage!

The black shadow let out a piercing shriek and pounced at him again, moving so quickly it dragged afterimages behind it, its claws aiming straight for his throat!

Rather than retreat, Shen Chu advanced.

He brushed his right hand across his waist and drew a Low-Grade Short Blade that he had carefully forged a few days ago.

Shen Chu had originally made it to guard against people, yet now he had to use it to slay a ghost.

Gripping the short blade tightly, Shen Chu poured the [Spirit of Blood and Courage] within him into its body. A faint crimson glow actually began to shine along its edge!

Shen Chu then sidestepped the ghost's claws, twisting his wrist as he swept the short blade upward from below.

The blade cut through the air with a clear, ringing hum.

Cold light flashed!

Slash!

The ghost's body suddenly froze in midair. A crimson blade mark slashed diagonally from its left shoulder to its right ribs, white smoke hissing from the wound as though a red-hot branding iron had been plunged into cold water.

The ghost let out an utterly miserable scream. Its entire body twisted violently, then exploded with a boom, becoming black fragments that scattered through the sky and vanished into the night wind.

The courtyard's cold, sinister aura dissipated with it.

Shen Chu stood with his blade in hand, his breathing slightly hurried, but his heart was unusually exhilarated.

After coming to this world for so long, this was the first time he had ever fought.

And his opponent had been a ghost!

Yet amid his excitement, deep doubts arose in his heart.

He had kept to himself and scarcely gone outside. When had he ever provoked something like this?

Frowning, Shen Chu looked toward where the ghost had vanished, then suddenly noticed fine gray threads on his body that had appeared at some unknown time.

The threads were faint and indistinct; had he not paid attention, they would have been truly difficult to spot. One end wrapped around his waist, while the other stretched into the distant darkness.

What is this now?

Shen Chu looked down at the gray thread around his waist. After thinking for a moment, he made his decision.

He tightened his grip on the short blade and sprang after it in the direction the gray thread led.

The gray thread passed through streets and alleyways, winding onward all the way.

Shen Chu moved swiftly, his body weaving nimbly through the night. After pursuing it for about the time it took an incense stick to burn, the gray thread finally stopped before a ruined earthen hut.

Shen Chu lightened his steps, pressed close to the crack in the door, and peered inside.

A gaunt, haggard man with disheveled hair sat cross-legged on the floor. Before him lay a palm-sized straw doll.

A wisp of gray thread was wrapped around the straw doll. It was the source of the gray aura connected to Shen Chu.

The man muttered an incantation under his breath, seemingly urging some kind of spell into motion.

Though the man had grown so thin he was barely recognizable, Shen Chu still recognized him at a glance.

It was Han Tieshan!

Han Tieshan was chanting a spell.

Then, bang!

The straw doll before him exploded without warning, bits of straw scattering all over the floor.

As though struck by a heavy blow, Han Tieshan suddenly toppled backward and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"H-how could this be...?"

Han Tieshan clutched his chest, his face filled with disbelief.

His spell had clearly succeeded, and he had not recited the incantation wrong. Why had it backfired?!

Frightened and furious, he trembled from head to toe and cursed at the empty room, "Shen Chu! You dog-born little bastard! Even if I become a ghost, I won't let you go! Just you wait! I'll tear you into ten thousand pieces!"

"Done cursing?"

A cold voice came from the doorway, cutting off Han Tieshan's roaring.

Han Tieshan abruptly raised his head and saw that a figure had appeared in the doorway at some unknown time.

Moonlight spilled through the open wooden door, outlining the figure.

It was Shen Chu.

He stood there expressionlessly, a short blade still glowing faintly crimson in his hand, his gaze calm.

Han Tieshan's pupils shrank sharply. In his terror, he instinctively reached for the fragments of the straw doll on the ground, wanting to activate the spell again.

A flash of cold light streaked past!

With one slash, Han Tieshan's right hand was severed at the wrist, blood immediately spurting forth!

With the second slash, his left hand flew away as well!