A Killing Intent Stirred

Zhao Ya heard every word clearly from behind the door. His eyes narrowed slightly, brimming with murderous intent.

There was no doubt about it. The person those two thugs had been talking about was Tang Zuier.

In truth, Zhao Ya had long anticipated something like this.

After all, Tang Zuier had no family connections or brothers to protect her. A beautiful orphan girl in such troubled times was bound to attract the covetous attention of unsavory people.

That was why Zhao Ya had told Tang Zuier earlier to go out as little as possible whenever she had no reason to.

But despite all his precautions, it had still happened.

So be it. He had just broken through today. He might as well use these two reckless thugs to make an example of.

Zhao Ya lightly pushed off the ground with his toes and sprang more than a zhang into the air. He braced one hand against the top of the wall, vaulted over it, and landed like a withered leaf.

The two thugs were so intoxicated by their lust that they hadn't noticed a thing behind them.

They had reached the door of Tang Zuier's home. One of them crouched down, pulled out a short knife, and slipped it into the crack in the door to work the latch.

The other stood nearby, keeping watch.

All was silent. There were no streetlights in this poor neighborhood, and the moon overhead cast only a dim light. It was impossible to see much.

The lookout thug simply leaned against the earthen wall and began humming a little tune.

"Twenty-one, a young widow, no fun, no spirit, hey-yo..."

He didn't notice a shadow slowly approaching along the base of the wall.

"I've been thinking of you for three days; I should go pay my respects at the grave, bring a white mourning headwrap, and leave off the rouge..."

Singing cheerfully, the thug pictured the pretty young girl he'd soon get his hands on, and his heart bubbled with delight.

Just then, a hand suddenly settled on his shoulder.

Thinking his companion had already succeeded, the thug turned to look. But the hand clamped around his neck from behind and squeezed hard.

Crack!

The thug's neck was wrenched clean around.

His eyes flew wide open. With what little awareness remained, he saw a tall man with a stern face.

Then his consciousness sank into endless darkness.

Thump. His body hit the ground.

"Third, what the hell are you doing? Keep it down," the thug working the latch cursed without looking back.

Zhao Ya didn't bother with words. He raised his fist and smashed it toward the back of the thug's head.

But this one was clearly more alert than the dead man. Hearing the ominous rush of air behind him, he knew something was wrong. He pulled out his short knife and rolled aside, dodging the punch.

Only then did he see the unfamiliar man before him. As for Third, he lay on the ground, his fate unknown.

The thug's heart jumped. He immediately raised the knife in his hand.

"Who are you? I'm with the Black Snake Gang in the east of the city. You—"

Zhao Ya didn't waste time talking. He darted forward.

The thug was all bluster. His little knife might frighten ordinary people, but how could he be a match for Zhao Ya?

Crack! Zhao Ya broke his wrist.

The short knife clattered to the ground.

The thug tried to shout, but Zhao Ya wasn't about to give him the chance. He drove a punch into the man's throat.

The thug's throat caved in, leaving a deep hollow. His eyes bulged as he stared fixedly at Zhao Ya, then he fell to the ground, unwilling to accept his fate.

In just a few dozen seconds, Zhao Ya had taken care of both thugs.

The whole thing had been clean and decisive. He hadn't even gotten a speck of blood on himself.

Nor did Zhao Ya feel anything after killing the two men.

He knew all too well what heinous crimes they would have committed that night if he hadn't intervened.

Zhao Ya picked up the short knife and, after making sure it wasn't poisoned, tucked it into his belt.

Weapons had become exorbitantly expensive, and even money couldn't buy them. Zhao Ya had wanted to find a handy blade for self-defense for some time, but hadn't had the chance.

He hadn't expected one to land right in his lap.

The short knife looked unremarkable, and even its handle was wrapped by hand. But the steel was good, and it had clearly been sharpened often. Its edge was keen, so Zhao Ya gladly accepted it.

Then Zhao Ya searched the two thugs and found that they were poor as church mice. All their belongings together amounted to only two or three qian of silver.

But he also made an unexpected discovery.

From their sleeves, he found two small bags. When he opened them, he saw that they were filled with finely ground quicklime.

It turned out the two thugs often roamed the streets. They weren't much good at fighting, but they had mastered a few shameless tricks for brawling.

Whenever they ran into someone they couldn't beat, they would fling the quicklime in their bags.

It was a vicious trick and, more importantly, almost impossible to guard against. Even a formidable fighter would get caught off guard.

Zhao Ya's eyes lit up at the sight.

It might be a dirty trick, but it was still a good one.

He couldn't dream of using it against true martial experts, but it could still save his life at a crucial moment.

After collecting all the gear the two thugs had dropped, Zhao Ya picked up the corpses, one in each hand. Under cover of night, he carried them to the city wall, found a gap, and tossed them outside.

A moment later, he saw countless pinpricks of light appear in the darkness.

They were wild dogs roaming in packs beyond the city.

These dogs had grown accustomed to eating human corpses. They were all large, with glossy coats and especially frightening red eyes.

As soon as they caught the scent of the bodies, the pack swarmed over and tore into them.

Zhao Ya watched in silence. Only after he was sure the two thugs had been devoured whole, leaving not a trace behind, did he quietly leave.

The next day.

Zhao Ya knocked on the door of Tang Zuier's home.

"Have you gone out at all in the past few days?" Zhao Ya asked.

"Mm, I went into the street the day before yesterday to look for a doctor. What's wrong, Brother Xiaoya?" Tang Zuier asked cautiously.

"A doctor? Is Grandmother ill?" Zhao Ya asked at once.

Tang Zuier's eyes reddened. She nodded and answered softly.

"Mm, she's ill, and quite seriously. That's why I sneaked into the street the day before yesterday, hoping to find a doctor to treat Grandmother."

"But the doctor's fee was far too expensive. I couldn't afford it..."

By the end, tears were streaming down Tang Zuier's face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Zhao Ya demanded, a little angry.

"Grandmother wouldn't let me tell you. She said she was so old already, and had lived long enough. She didn't want to burden—"

Before Tang Zuier could finish, Zhao Ya strode inside. When he entered the room, he saw an old woman lying on the bed.

It was Tang Zuier's grandmother.

In his predecessor's memories, Zhao Ya had seen the old woman many times.

Back then, she had been a kind and gentle woman.

But now she was so emaciated that she was almost unrecognizable. If she hadn't still been breathing, she could have passed for dead.

At the sound, the old woman laboriously turned her head and looked at Zhao Ya with lifeless eyes.

"Is that you, Xiaoya?"

"Yes, it's me, Grandmother," Zhao Ya answered softly.

"Xiaoya, come here. There are a few things I'd like to say to you."