An Eye for an Eye, Blood for Blood

An Eye for an Eye, Blood for Blood

The dead could not come back to life.

Life and death were settled matters; no one could wag their tongue about them.

But why someone had died—that was worth discussing.

If it had been illness or disaster, then however unwilling one might be, one could eventually come to terms with it.

But if someone had been murdered for money for no reason at all, beaten to death alive and kicking, who would not brood over it?

Why?

I, Wang Hai, had been honest and proper all my life, treated others generously all my life, toiled for most of my life, and finally risked my neck to snatch an opportunity from the jaws of wolves and make a small fortune.

Why had I been hauled to the south of the city for no reason and killed?

After his final wish of securing a livelihood for his wife, children, and elderly mother had been fulfilled, the resentment born of all the pain and torment this forty-something middle-aged man had endured finally erupted, forming his second final wish.

[Bone-Deep Hatred]!

Yu Chen understood that fury and unwillingness.

Amid the wind and snow, the young gravekeeper took a deep breath, as though drawing the sweeping blizzard into his chest.

Yet even that could not dissolve the bone-piercing hatred by the Yellow Springs River within the Scripture of Deliverance.

Something else was needed to quell it—blood, fire, thick choking smoke.

An eye for an eye, blood for blood!

Less than half a shichen later, Southside Old Street, Blackwater Gang territory.

A night-soil carrier pulling a flatbed cart hunched his shoulders and back as he dragged a load of filth past a dilapidated pavilion.

The pavilion was brightly lit.

Through the shadows cast on the windows, several figures could be seen seated around a table, passing cups back and forth, gulping down liquor and stuffing themselves with meat.

Faintly, loud conversation could be heard from inside. They talked about how supple some girl at Huaqing Tower had been today, how delicious the wine from some tavern in the market was, and so on.

Watching this scene, the night-soil carrier's stomach rumbled with hunger. The fragrance of wine and meat drifted into his nose, making drool trickle from his mouth without his noticing.

Living by the blade, with wine and meat running through the gut!

How enviable!

But after only two glances, the night-soil carrier hurriedly dragged his cart away.

After all, this was the south of the city—Southside Old Street, where blood had flowed. Of every inch of those blue-gray stone slabs, which had not been stained with blood? If the filth on his cart offended the lords drinking upstairs, getting beaten up would be nothing unusual.

Inside the pavilion the night-soil carrier had passed, several burly men sat around a table. The table was piled with roast chicken, roast duck, and scattered wine jars, while the floor was littered with sunflower seed shells and peanut husks.

Five wild and unruly men of the martial world drank until their faces were flushed red. They were clearly rather drunk.

One of the big men drained a bowl of strong liquor in one gulp, clicked his tongue, and cursed, "That damned Wang Hai truly wouldn't yield to soft or hard tactics! We brothers put in so much effort, yet got nothing at all!"

Beside him, a middle-aged man with a scar across his face nodded. "That iron rooster simply doesn't understand that gold and silver are things outside the body. He deserved to lose his life!"

Off to one side, a somewhat younger man snorted. "Did he think dying would settle everything? That was six Gold Zhu! Even if we turn his Household upside down, we'll find them and take them!"

After he spoke, a shorter man furrowed his brow. "But didn't we already search his Household? There was nothing!"

Finally, the leading middle-aged man slapped the table. "The Gold Zhu may not be in that dead bastard's Household, but his wife, children, and mother must know where they're hidden. Tomorrow, we'll tie them up and bring them here too. We'll pry their mouths open no matter what!"

"Heh heh, speaking of which, his wife isn't bad at all!" The scar-faced man grinned. "Since we're going to pry their mouths open, how about letting me do the prying?"

As he spoke, he thrust his lower body forward hard.

Hearing that, the other four all showed looks of contempt. "Third Brother doesn't like young and pretty ones—he only likes women with men. What a mongrel!"

Scarface Third Brother merely chuckled and said nothing.

At last, the leading man coughed. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow, bring Wang Hai's dead bastard family here too and find a way to make them talk!

"But remember, no one else in the gang can learn of this. Otherwise, with six Gold Zhu, I reckon quite a few people will be tempted!"

"Fine!"

"We'll follow Boss!"

"We'll do it tomorrow!"

"..."

As they talked, the five began drinking again, cups clinking back and forth, thoroughly merry.

They did not notice in the slightest that beneath the pavilion, in a dark corner, a pair of eyes stared at them without blinking.

When the men had drunk nearly enough, Scarface Third Brother stood up. His urge to urinate surged, and he headed for the latrine to relieve himself.

Humming a little tune and thinking of Wang Hai's wife, he wore a blissful expression.

But the moment he stepped outside, he saw a familiar figure standing in the corridor.

—Was that not Wang Hai, whom they had burned?

Third Brother froze stupidly on the spot. All his drunkenness vanished like smoke and clouds, leaving only endless icy cold enveloping his entire body!

Before he could make a sound, the black shadow flashed!

The next instant, Third Brother felt his skull forcibly twisted halfway around, and he saw the sight behind his own back.

Then there was no then. He would never see again.

His eight-foot body crashed to the ground with a bang, devoid of breath.

The commotion startled the men inside.

They immediately rose to see what had happened.

But at the doorway, "Wang Hai" stepped inside, one step at a time. Their expressions changed drastically at once. Their eyes bulged wide, their mouths fell open, yet not a single sound came out!

—They were martial-world men who lived by the blade, fearing neither heaven nor earth, but... how could they not fear ghosts?

Especially the ghost of someone who had just died by their own hands!

Who could be completely unafraid?

Yet before they could react further, "Wang Hai's" ghost became an afterimage.

With several sharp cracks, it twisted their necks apart.

Within a few breaths, the five martial-world brutes stared wide-eyed, their faces full of terror, their heads twisted behind their backs as their breaths ceased.

The pavilion sank into silence once more.

Until half a shichen later, when the night-soil carrier dragged his load of filth past this pavilion again.

The hunched man hummed an unknown tune, intending to take another whiff of that drifting fragrance of wine and meat.

But as he rounded the street corner, the night-soil carrier caught a glimpse of a glow from the corner of his eye and instinctively looked up.

In the darkness, he saw light.

In the heavy night, that old pavilion he had just passed, so brightly lit before, was now burning with crackling flames, blazing with unrestrained fervor.

Between the collapsing beams and bricks, several figures could vaguely be seen rising and sinking in the sea of fire.

The night-soil carrier clicked his tongue and immediately shook his head like a rattle-drum.

No more envy!

No more envy!

I'd better stick to hauling my shit!

The next day, news of a fire at a Blackwater Gang pavilion in the south of Weishui City spread without wings.

At first, everyone thought it was merely an accident.

Later, after the yamen sent people to collect the bodies and inspect the scene, a few scraps of information leaked from the mouths of some clerks.

They only said that the martial-world brutes inside the pavilion had been burned so black by the fire that even their own mothers would not recognize them.

The crucial thing was that the five charred corpses were lined up in a row, kneeling on both knees with their heads pressed to the ground, as though they had committed some wrongdoing and were repenting!

Once that news spread, the fire immediately became shrouded in mystery.

Many said that the Blackwater Gang's evil deeds had enraged ghosts and gods, who had sent down heavenly fire and burned several gang members to cinders!

Yet others, seeing the kneeling posture of the corpses, inexplicably thought of the Head-Taking Ghost that had been widely discussed some days ago.

Whatever the truth, ordinary people did not care. Whether people lived or died, as long as it did not concern them, it was merely after-dinner gossip.

But the forces involved could not remain so calm.

For the Blackwater Gang, first three of Ji Sixth Lord's nephews had been beheaded, and then gang members in the south of the city had been killed and their corpses burned.

This forced the Blackwater Gang's many martial-world men to become wary.

As their rival, the Zhengqing Gang naturally responded as well.

Soon after, gangs large and small throughout the south of the city were all dragged into the turmoil.

The entire southern part of Weishui City became a pot of porridge.