After Beating Uncle, Beat Aunt Too!

Zhou Chen could not be bothered to waste words on the old man. He held out his hand. "Old thing, I've already severed ties with your Zhou Household. There's no need for me to address you respectfully anymore. You stole my family's silver back then, and now you'll return every last bit of it, principal and interest! Hand over the money!"

"Alright, alright, I'll get it right away. Right away."

Old Master Zhou's body jolted. Under the mocking, scornful gazes filling the courtyard, he hunched his back like an old dog driven into a dead-end alley and shuffled into the inner room. He dug out all his savings, held them out in both hands, and tremblingly handed them to Zhou Chen.

Zhou Chen opened the money pouch and weighed it in his hand, his brows immediately knotting. "Only four taels?"

That old thing had snatched seven taels of silver from his family back then. This was not even enough for a fraction of it.

Old Master Zhou forced out a smile uglier than crying and explained with his neck shrunk in, "The rest... was all used to grease the way for your younger brother. This money is still my burial fund..."

"Fine, then!"

Zhou Chen sighed.

Old Master Zhou thought Zhou Chen was about to let them off, but Zhou Chen abruptly changed his tone. "Since there's no money in the house, sell this old residence. It should fetch more than ten taels of silver."

After saying that, Zhou Chen suddenly regretted kicking so hard. Both doors had been ruined, and the house would definitely sell for quite a bit less.

"Th-this..."

Old Master Zhou trembled and hastily pleaded, "Chen, if you sell the house, where will we live? Where will you let your grandfather live? Your grandfather is already this old. If you make your grandfather sleep outside, that's a death sentence—what if he runs into a Mist Monster?"

"Why should I care where you live?! The streets are full of ground. Find somewhere to sleep yourself!"

He gave a look. Several quick-witted neighbors nearby immediately caught on and eagerly rushed into the house, rummaging through chests and cabinets until they even overturned the rice vat. Before long, one person came running out, waving a yellowed roll of paper and presenting it to Zhou Chen as though offering a treasure. "Master Zhou! The deed is here! That old thing actually hid it beneath the rice vat!"

"Y-you!"

At the sight, Old Master Zhou's face turned deathly pale with rage. He staggered and fell to the ground, trying to snatch the deed, but several helpful neighbors had already pinned him down.

"Heh, this old thing is strong as a donkey!"

"Hold him down! Don't let him dirty Master Zhou's clothes!"

"This old residence is an eyesore. Sell it."

Zhou Chen glanced over the deed and, after confirming there was no issue, handed it to a neighbor who worked as a broker. He had no intention of living in this old residence. Once he had the means and money in the future, he could find another place to live. It was better to sell this old residence that carried too many painful memories!

"Rest assured, Master Zhou. I'll definitely sell this old residence for a high price. I'll only charge a tiny fee for running around."

The broker fawned over him.

"I'll leave it to you."

He nodded.

"You're too polite, Master Zhou! Rest a hundred hearts!"

The broker tucked the deed away and dashed off to list the property.

Looking at Old Master Zhou sprawled on the ground with a face as pale as paper, Zhou Chen felt incomparably satisfied. The stifling knot in his chest had nearly dissipated as well.

Before leaving, he tossed out one sentence. "If you're dissatisfied, go to the Night Patrol Bureau and ask the Martial Warriors for justice."

Anyone with eyes could see that the Night Patrol Bureau would never concern itself with such trivial chicken-feather-and-garlic-skin matters.

To offend a Martial Warrior in the midst of his rise over one common family's domestic dispute, one would have to have been kicked in the head by a donkey.

Besides, this family had brought their current fate entirely upon themselves. If Zhou Chen had not fought hard enough to become a Martial Warrior, they would likely have skinned him, stripped his bones, and devoured him clean.

Just then, another burst of commotion suddenly came from outside the door.

Everyone looked up to see several men in gray short jackets carrying a young man drenched in blood and bruised black and blue. With a thud, they threw him onto the stone steps outside the Zhou Household. Curled on the ground, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles, the young man let out intermittent, miserable screams.

The surrounding crowd was startled and recognized the man screaming on the ground as Zhou Chen's cousin, Zhou Ping!

The leading middle-aged man, who looked like a steward, straightened his collar and smiled as he cupped his hands toward Zhou Chen. "Greetings, Master Zhou! I am a steward of the Feng Household. When Old Master Feng heard that you had broken through to become a Martial Warrior, he was overjoyed. He said Qingtian District had gained another fine hero and immediately ordered this humble one to prepare a congratulatory gift for you. But after asking around, we learned that this cur had actually seized the silver Master Zhou needed for school. Old Master Feng flew into a rage and said that a pearl had nearly been left to gather dust. He immediately ordered his men to break this fellow's arms and legs, then send him here to you."

After explaining the matter, the steward turned and gave a look. A man immediately stepped forward carrying a red cloth bundle and handed it to Zhou Chen.

Zhou Chen lifted it, delight rising in his heart. There should be ten taels of silver inside.

It seemed Old Master Feng was quite the shrewd old fox. Once he learned of Zhou Chen's breakthrough, he immediately cleared the Feng Household of any connection to Zhou Ping and even took the initiative to send a lavish gift to curry favor.

On further thought, that was only natural. Old Master Feng had been a Second-Rank Martial Artist in his youth, but he was now advanced in years, his blood and vitality declining, and his strength far inferior to what it once was. There was no need to offend a newly risen Martial Warrior for an insignificant servant.

"Old Master Feng has been too generous!"

Zhou Chen beamed.

Since they had delivered the money properly and lowered their stance sufficiently, Zhou Chen naturally would not make enemies of them.

"As long as the misunderstanding has been cleared up."

Hearing Zhou Chen speak thus, the steward nodded.

The steward heaved a sigh of relief and smiled as he cupped his hands. "Good, good, good! I said Master Zhou was broad-minded. Your martial path will surely bear fruit in the future!"

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the Feng Household steward took his people and departed.

Zhou Chen exchanged a few more polite words with the helpful neighbors. Then everyone worked together to carry the unconscious Zhou Tao and Feng Yuyun out of the house and deliberately throw them into the foul-smelling puddle at the street corner. Filthy water splashed all over their faces.

Old Master Zhou hobbled over alone on his cane, bent-backed as he dragged them away. Before leaving, he looked back at the old residence that had already changed hands, his clouded eyes filled with regret.

"Not bad, not bad! Adding the ten taels of silver sent by the Chen Household, I made a net profit of fourteen taels today! Once the old residence is sold, another ten taels will be in hand!"

Zhou Chen carried the money and headed home with light steps, in an excellent mood.

This money had truly relieved his pressing need.

At this moment, Zhang Ying had just sold several jin of meat at her market stall. She let out a breath, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and looked toward the stall next to hers that sold jars. For some reason, that mung-bean-eyed woman had not set up her stall today!

Just as she was wondering about it, the crowd suddenly parted. The mung-bean-eyed woman squeezed through, dirty and disheveled, with her short, fat son, who was built like a weighing weight, in tow. Before Zhang Ying could even ask a question, the pair dropped to their knees in unison before her meat stall. Their foreheads slammed against the ground hard enough to make the bluestone paving ring with thuds.

"You damned mung-bean eyes, have you gone mad?" Zhang Ying jumped in fright, nearly losing her grip on the knife in her hand.

The people around them who had been choosing meat and buying vegetables were all drawn over by the commotion, their eyes widening as they watched.

The mung-bean-eyed woman was snotting and sobbing, her face flushed bright red from crying. As she kowtowed, she cried at the top of her lungs, "Grandma Zhang! You are magnanimous and generous, please spare my son and me! I was blind before, I was muddleheaded, and I never should have opposed you! Your belly is big enough to hold a boat; please don't lower yourself to the level of ants like us!"

Her son also knelt beside her, slapping himself across the face again and again with both hands until his cheeks swelled red. In a muffled voice, he repeated, "Grandma Zhang, I was wrong. I really was wrong. I'll never dare again..."

Zhang Ying stood frozen in place, her mind still utterly befuddled.