The Lime Martial Saint!

Mo Yun pushed open the back door and vanished into the night.

The night wind swept toward him with the chill of late autumn, making the hem of his clothes snap and flutter.

He tightened the black cloth mask that covered almost his entire face and strode forward.

The streets had long since emptied of pedestrians. Only a few dim yellow lanterns swayed in the wind, stretching and shrinking his shadow.

He got his bearings and headed briskly toward the west side of town.

There was a market street there. Although most stalls had packed up by this hour, there were always a few beggars spending the night huddled in the corners.

Mo Yun soon reached the street corner and, sure enough, found several beggars in ragged clothes lying there.

He crouched down, took a few copper coins from inside his clothes, and shook them in front of an old beggar.

"I need some information."

The old beggar opened his bleary eyes. At the sight of the coins, he immediately perked up and scrambled into a sitting position. "Ask away, sir! Ask away!"

"Where does Zhao Si from the Sky Wolf Gang usually go?"

The old beggar's eyes shifted, and he lowered his voice. "Master Zhao? At this hour, he's usually at the Fragrant Pavilion."

"The Fragrant Pavilion?"

"That's right!" The old beggar chuckled, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "It's the most famous brothel in our Yellow Maple Town-a pit that swallows gold. Master Zhao goes there every few days, always asks for the most popular girl, and spends money like water!"

Mo Yun nodded, then asked, "When does he usually leave?"

"After midnight." The old beggar thought for a moment. "Master Zhao has a wife and children at home, so he rarely stays out overnight. He usually comes out around Chou Hour."

Chou Hour... Mo Yun had what he needed. He tossed the coins to the old beggar, turned, and left.

The old beggar caught the coins and weighed them in his hand, then called after Mo Yun, "Sir, don't go making trouble for Master Zhao! He's with the Sky Wolf Gang. We can't afford to cross him!"

Mo Yun waved without looking back.

He circled a few nearby streets and picked up a handful of lime somewhere, tucking it inside his clothes.

"Let's imitate the Lime Martial Saint. Wonder how well it'll work..."

With everything ready, Mo Yun strode toward the Fragrant Pavilion.

The Fragrant Pavilion stood on the busiest stretch of East Street in Yellow Maple Town. Its three-story building had sweeping, upturned eaves, and two rows of large red lanterns hung outside its entrance, lighting up the entire street.

Even at this late hour, the place was still bustling.

The sound of strings and flutes drifted from the building, mingled with the flirtatious laughter of men and women, audible from far away.

Mo Yun did not approach. Instead, he found a lush parasol tree across the street and concealed himself in the shadows beneath its crown.

The spot offered an excellent view, giving him a clear line of sight to the Fragrant Pavilion's entrance.

He leaned against the trunk. Feeling somewhat bored, he took a deep breath and began practicing his stance.

After advancing his Tiger-Crouching Stance to minor attainment, he could settle into it anytime, anywhere. His legs seemed rooted to the ground, steady as Mount Tai.

Time ticked by.

People came and went from the Fragrant Pavilion: wealthy merchants with girls in their arms, young wastrels drunk out of their minds, and several martial wanderers who were clearly no pushovers.

Mo Yun scanned them one by one. None was Zhao Si.

He was in no hurry. Closing his eyes, he continued practicing his stance.

Even time spent waiting could not be wasted. Every minute and every second had to go toward cultivation.

After an unknown stretch of time, the crowd in the Fragrant Pavilion gradually thinned, and the strings and flutes slowly fell silent.

Mo Yun opened his eyes and checked the sky.

The moon had climbed overhead and shifted slightly west. It was probably nearing Chou Hour.

Just then-

The Fragrant Pavilion's doors opened again, and a gleaming bald head stood out beneath the lantern light.

Zhao Si!

He wore a brocade robe with its collar open, revealing a tuft of black chest hair. His face bore the telltale flush of alcohol, and he swayed as he walked. Clearly, he had drunk quite a bit.

"Take care, Master Zhao! Come again soon!" The madam at the entrance beamed like a blooming flower as she fussed over him on his way out.

"Mm..." Zhao Si let out a drunken belch and waved. "Put it... put it on my tab!"

"Of course!"

Zhao Si staggered down the steps and headed toward the end of the street.

Mo Yun slipped out of the shadows beneath the tree's crown and followed at an unhurried pace.

Zhao Si walked very slowly, occasionally bracing himself against a wall while humming some nameless tune. He was painfully tone-deaf.

Mo Yun followed a dozen or so paces behind him, his footsteps almost soundless.

One behind the other, they crossed two streets and turned into a tangled maze of alleys.

This was Yellow Maple Town's old quarter. The alleys were barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, and moss covered the walls on both sides, glowing a faint green in the moonlight.

Zhao Si reached a corner and suddenly stopped.

He undid his waistband and began relieving himself.

The splashing rang out with particular clarity in the quiet alley.

When he finished, Zhao Si shivered. He was about to pull up his trousers when he heard faint footsteps behind him.

After years in the gangs, living with his tongue against a knife's edge, Zhao Si retained his vigilance despite all the alcohol he had drunk.

His whole body jolted, and most of his drunkenness vanished in an instant.

He wheeled around!

His muscles swelled as he snapped into combat readiness!

But-

What came straight at his face was a handful of white powder!

"Aah! Fuck!"

Zhao Si screamed and clapped both hands over his eyes. Lime powder had gotten into them, burning fiercely, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.

"Hiss! My eyes!"

He staggered backward, sucked in a sharp breath, and shouted in panic, "What faction are you from, sir? I'm Zhao Si of the Sky Wolf Gang. Could you do me the courtesy of letting this go?"

Before he had finished speaking-

A fist the size of a clay pot came hurtling through the air and slammed into his chest!

Bam!

Zhao Si flew backward like a kite with its string cut and crashed heavily into the wall behind him!

"Urgh!"

He spat out a mouthful of blood, splattering the flagstones in a gruesome spray.

Zhao Si felt as if all his organs had shifted out of place. Agony shot through his chest. At least two ribs were broken.

He slumped on the ground, gasping for breath as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.

"Sir, we can talk this out!"

He stared in terror at the indistinct figure in the darkness, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I've done to offend you! I'm willing to compensate you! Cough, cough..."

Mo Yun said nothing and walked up to Zhao Si in a few strides.

Moonlight slanted in from the mouth of the alley and fell across him, stretching his shadow.

Zhao Si squinted through his lime-burned eyes, struggling to make out his assailant's face.

For some reason, the figure before him seemed familiar, as though he had seen him somewhere.

But he no longer had the luxury of pondering that.

Because that fist came at him again!

Bam!

Bam! Bam!

Mo Yun threw punch after punch, each one heavy and powerful, hammering Zhao Si's chest, abdomen, and shoulders.

Every punch struck flesh, and the cracking of bones echoed through the alley.

Zhao Si's screams grew weaker and weaker. The front of his robe was soaked in blood, and he lay crumpled against the corner, breathing out more than he breathed in.

"Who... who are you?"

His face full of bitter unwillingness, Zhao Si used the last of his strength to stare fixedly at the figure before him.

Mo Yun said nothing. He simply raised a hand and slowly pulled down his mask.

The moonlight revealed a young, handsome face.

Straight brows like swords, bright eyes like stars, and strong, angular features.

Zhao Si's pupils abruptly contracted, and disbelief covered his face.

"It... it's you?!"

He recognized him.

Wasn't this the youth from the shop earlier today?

He seemed to be Mo Yiyi's younger brother. Wasn't he just some boy sold to Crouching Tiger Manor as a menial servant?!

"This... this is impossible..."

Zhao Si's mind went blank.

He had never imagined that merely trying to seize a shop would end with him losing his life.

How could a menial servant be this strong?!

He could not understand it, and he would never have the chance to.

"Spare..."

Before he could finish begging for mercy, Mo Yun's fist came down.

Bam!

The punch struck Zhao Si squarely in the temple.

Zhao Si's head snapped to one side. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he collapsed limply to the ground, twitched a few times, then lay utterly still.

Blood slowly seeped from his mouth, nostrils, and ears, gleaming dark red in the moonlight.

Mo Yun withdrew his fist and let out a long, heavy breath.

He looked down at the corpse, his gaze calm and utterly unruffled.

"Go on your way. May you find a better life in your next incarnation."

He crouched down and searched Zhao Si's body.

There was a coin pouch at his waist. Opening it, Mo Yun found only a few taels of silver pieces.

He searched inside the robe, the sleeves, and the boots, but found nothing else.

"Wasteful bastard. Spent all your money on booze and women."

Mo Yun spat and tucked the silver inside his own clothes.

It was not much, but even a mosquito's leg was still meat.

He stood, got his bearings, and headed toward the Sky Wolf Gang.

Zhao Si had been dealt with, but this was only the first step.