"Mmm..."
After paying the monthly protection fee, the smile vanished from Aliya's little face.
No wonder Aliya was unhappy. This month's fee was roughly thirty percent higher than before.
The Fire Bear Gang had recently fought several large-scale armed clashes with the Venomous Snake Gang, with casualties on both sides.
Naturally, they needed silver to compensate the families of the dead and spur their followers on.
Li Ping'an shook his head, feeling somewhat helpless himself.
Of course, he could refuse to pay. He had no fear of the Fire Bear Gang.
But the King of Hell was easy to meet; it was the little ghosts who were hard to deal with.
If he refused to pay today and killed their men,
the Fire Bear Gang would come looking for trouble tomorrow.
These gangs all had powerful backers. Wipe out the Fire Bear Gang, and he would stir up another layer of trouble.
That was how trouble worked. Once you opened the door, you got caught in its coils.
Rather than fight until one side was dead, he would sooner pay a little money each month for some peace.
After returning home, Li Ping'an took a quick bath.
Calling it a bath was generous: he simply stood in a large tub and poured a basin of water over himself from head to toe.
He was just about to light the fire and cook when Aliya came to his door.
Today was Aliya's birthday, and her elder sister Duha had prepared a feast.
She also invited Li Ping'an to Aliya's birthday dinner.
Three people and an ox.
Five dishes, three meat and two vegetable.
And a bowl of fragrant longevity noodles.
Li Ping'an had cooked those himself.
"Don't forget to make a wish on your birthday," Li Ping'an reminded her.
"I've already got them ready."
Aliya took a slip of paper she had written from her pocket. "First wish: I want my big sister to marry a good man."
Duha's pretty face flushed. "You little imp!"
Aliya continued reading. "Second wish: I want Father to come back.
"Third wish: I want Uncle's eyes to get better soon."
Li Ping'an smiled faintly.
"Fourth, I want lots and lots of money. Fifth..."
The night had grown deep.
Aliya lay beneath a blanket, mumbling in her sleep.
"It's getting late. I'll be off." Li Ping'an stood up.
Duha nodded slightly. "Thank you for keeping her company for so long."
"It was nothing."
Duha smiled. "See you tomorrow, Uncle."
"Mm. See you tomorrow."
Li Ping'an left the courtyard, but did not go home.
Instead, he walked in another direction beneath the moonlight.
Beneath the night sky, the Anbei Four Garrisons remained as bustling as ever.
A patrol of city guards strolled leisurely about with lanterns, never so much as glancing at their surroundings.
Several dark figures flashed past, heading straight for a luxurious residence in South City.
South City Master Meng's residence stood on an old street.
It was said that this street had existed before the Anbei Four Garrisons were established.
It preserved the traces of its eras in full,
bearing the weight of the years, washed clean of mist and rain.
The cheers and neighing horses of bygone days seemed vividly present.
Under cover of moonlight, dozens of dark figures dropped into South City Master Meng's residence.
Their leader was a black-faced burly man dressed in close-fitting martial attire.
He was tall, with a long, broad saber strapped to his back.
"You have all come from afar. Forgive me for failing to greet you."
An aged, sonorous voice broke the silence.
With a swish, four burly men drew their sabers.
Crouching low, they charged toward the source of the voice.
Yet all four vanished like clay oxen sinking into the sea, without another sound.
A moment later, a figure entirely encased in armor appeared before them.
Only a pair of eyes, their black pupils and white sclera sharply distinct, remained exposed.
The black-faced man sneered. "An entire suit of armor forged from black gold. South City Master Meng certainly spends lavishly.
"Or should I call you Hammud the groom?
"Five years ago, you followed a band of martial-world figures disguised as a caravan deep into the desert, searching for the treasure left behind by Monk Jiyan.
"They found the treasure, but fell to infighting and slaughtered one another.
"In the end, only one man obtained Monk Jiyan's treasure. For a time, every faction in the martial world searched for his whereabouts.
"Unfortunately, that man seemed to evaporate from the face of the earth, disappearing for five whole years.
"But who could have imagined that the man who ultimately obtained the treasure
"was neither their leader nor the most skilled saber fighter,
"but a groom who led the way and tended their horses! Fate truly makes fools of men."
Hammud raised his head toward the sky and sighed soundlessly. "I'm tired of running."
The black-faced man slowly drew his saber. "Yes. It's time for everything to end."
Tonight, South City had no soldiers, no night watchmen keeping order.
Not even anyone striking the night watches.
There were only axes flying through the air and the clash of metal.
Several major gangs attacked South City Master Meng's territory at the same time.
South City Master Meng was a mysterious figure rumored to hold the power of life and death over South City.
It was said that no one had seen his true face, that he had once been disfigured, and that everyone who had seen his face was dead.
In just a few years, Master Meng's management had catapulted South City into one of the most prosperous districts of the Anbei Four Garrisons.
Yet today, the shops he had painstakingly built up became rubble beneath the feet of throngs of men.
Restaurants once filled with songs and dancing in peaceful prosperity became bloody slaughterhouses.
Two carriage lamps hung from the towering vermilion double gates of South City Master Meng's residence.
Their light revealed dozens of burly men in close-fitting martial attire, long sabers hanging at their waists.
They packed the short street so tightly that not a drop of water could pass, their eyes fixed on the vermilion gates.
Creeeak...
With a piercing creak, the gates were pushed open.
South City Master Meng stood before them in black-gold armor.
More precisely, it was Hammud.
"Kill!!"
The shouts shook the heavens.
Dozens of burly men brandished their weapons and charged like a pack of mad tigers!
Almost all of South City descended into chaos.
The sounds of fierce fighting rang out ceaselessly, and corpses lay scattered every which way across the ground.
The gangs pouring in from every direction seemed intent on razing South City to the ground.
A group of burly men stormed into a brothel, swinging machetes and iron clubs.
They hacked and battered everyone inside indiscriminately, amid an unending chorus of screams.
The owner of a tavern one street over heard the commotion and tried to shut his door.
But it was already too late. A mob rushed inside.
Terrified out of his wits, the owner fell onto his backside.
"Hand over the money! The money!"
Several men made straight for the counter, while the rest plundered the tavern's patrons.
Two thugs spotted a beautiful married woman and closed in on her.
"What are you doing?!"
"Stop! Stop! Do you know who I am?"
Her husband had barely shouted twice before a kick knocked him to the floor.
"I don't give a damn who you are. Let me have some fun."
As he spoke, the thug began tearing at the woman's clothes.
"Hand over everything valuable!"
One man spotted someone still drinking leisurely in a corner and immediately approached with his saber.
The tavern's lamps went out with a whoosh.
Several dull thuds sounded in the darkness.
A few seconds later, everything fell quiet again.
Holding a pot of wine, Li Ping'an strolled out of the tavern.
He murmured to himself, "This wine really is good. It's just too expensive."
The tavern owner lay trembling on the floor, clutching his head.
He waited a long while, but heard no movement around him.
After another little while, by the moonlight shining inside,
the owner saw several men sprawled haphazardly across the floor.
Huh? What happened?
Before you continue