Chapter Three: A Glimmer of Hope
1785 Words
"Tell me everything. Tell me in detail about Boss Yan's identity, martial arts skills, and style of doing things."
Chen Ping sat imposingly on the broken planks of the collapsed incense table, like a general sitting in the White Tiger Hall, his eyes calm and unwavering.
Seeing his expression, the others immediately calmed down.
It was as if the approaching storm was nothing compared to his calm and reassuring demeanor.
"Boss Yan secretly manages the beggars and vagrants on this street. He's a minor leader, but he doesn't actually make much money on a daily basis
. However, according to his boasts, he's a formal disciple who burns three sticks of incense, so he doesn't have to pay at restaurants..." "Yes, and he also said he often drinks with the head constable of Xingqing Prefecture. I guess he's just trying to embellish his image and elevate his status. But he personally leads the way in collecting the tax from the thirty-two shops on the street."
"A while ago, Master Dong ordered that every street must pay one hundred taels of silver, but he couldn't pay. So, he's been ruthlessly exploiting us, trying to squeeze every last drop of oil from us. Before, we could still save a few coins to occasionally buy a couple of steamed buns, but later, no one dared to do that anymore. That day, that day..."
Xiao Zhuo glanced at Chen Ping's broken leg and didn't continue.
"..."
The group chatted back and forth, revealing all of Boss Yan's secrets.
After listening for a while, Chen Ping understood who Boss Yan was.
This guy was a top leader under the Seven Colors Hall's Green Branch. In modern terms, he was the boss of Qilin Street, responsible for collecting protection money from merchants and controlling beggar gangs.
Perhaps he also controlled some petty thieves to generate income.
In short, he wasn't the kind of person who did anything good.
Of course, he couldn't keep all the street's revenue for himself; he also had to pay tribute to the incense hall.
As a result, he ruthlessly exploited his subordinates.
It's no pity that this man died, but the problem was, how to deal with the Seven Colors Hall's retaliation after killing him was a problem.
...
The left-handed man, bent over, quickly and skillfully searched the bodies of Boss Yan and the tall, thin man.
He found some loose silver, totaling about three taels. Besides the short black iron spikes that the tall, thin man carried himself, Boss Yan also had a small bottle of wine, a pink undergarment, and a long, yellowish white cloth of unknown purpose.
All these items were piled in front of Chen Ping.
The painted-face man squatted on the ground, carefully untying the broken bamboo stick binding Chen Ping's injured leg. Seeing that it was bleeding again, he muttered something under his breath.
His eyes lit up when he saw a bottle of wine and a long strip of white cloth found on Chen Ping's severed left hand. He poured the wine on the wound, cleaned it slightly, and then tried to wrap it with the cloth.
"You can't take that cloth,"
Chen Ping quickly stopped him.
"Oh,"
the painted-face man looked up in confusion, but didn't insist. He then took a silk undergarment to use as a rope. It was a waste to throw it away, but no one would be ashamed to wear it anyway, so he made use of it.
"Tell me about martial arts. I see that Boss Yan is incredibly strong and his skills are extraordinary. I wonder what his secrets are?"
Chen Ping asked after thinking for a moment.
He didn't want to show weakness, but he had no choice. He had no memories of his past life, not even how he became a beggar, let alone the origins of these people.
Furthermore, they didn't even know what dynasty this world was from, or the strength of the people in the environment. They'd only been here a short time, yet they'd already killed two people, one of whom was a gang leader. Clearly, this wasn't without its problems.
But there was nothing they could do; if the other side didn't die, they would.
Even Da Sha knew whether he could survive with his limbs broken, so they couldn't possibly be unaware.
None of them seemed surprised by Chen Ping's question, as if they had accepted his feverish brain damage and forgetfulness.
Left-Handed, who was knowledgeable about martial arts, replied, "In our eyes, Boss Yan is naturally a very powerful master. Under normal circumstances, even if ten people ganged up on him, they would hardly be able to hurt him in the slightest, and would instead be beaten to death. But after all, he is only an external martial arts practitioner; his meridians are not fully developed, he has only trained to the bone, so he is considered a low-level practitioner." "
On the other hand, there are rumors that Master Dong has begun to cleanse his marrow and change his blood, and his external martial arts have reached an extremely profound level. If he comes to cause us trouble, he will definitely be dead." "
Huh, you can tell Boss Yan's level of martial arts?"
"That's not difficult. If Boss Yan has fully developed his meridians, and his fascia is connected, then it won't be as easy for you, Seventh Brother, to pierce his neck with the handle of your cheap iron shovel... At most, it will penetrate half a bit into the flesh and get stuck."
Left-Handed replied matter-of-factly .
Chen Ping noticed that this kid had started calling him "Seventh Brother" instead of "Crippled Brother," which must have been because his previous act of killing Boss Yan had earned his approval.
How realistic.
"So, does that mean we can rest easy once we get past Master Dong?"
"Not really. Master Dong is a big shot; he doesn't care about us little beggars. It's his three deputy masters—Fox, Black Wolf, and Leopard—who will be involved. As far as I know, Boss Yan is under Deputy Master Chang Sansi (Fox). If he dies, Deputy Master Chang can't just ignore it."
At this point, Zuo Duanshou frowned, looking anxiously at the dark sky outside.
Chen Ping seemed oblivious to his anxiety and didn't mention escape. He pondered, "Chang Sansi, a good name. Foxes are always cunning, not reckless. Using that as a name suggests a cautious person."
He didn't inquire about Deputy Master Chang's actual strength.
In fact, even Boss Yan's true strength far surpassed his current level, let alone that of a deputy master.
In this ancient society, especially among** (jianghu) gangs, it was rare for the capable to be subordinate and the incompetent to be superior.
Because the incompetent will soon be secretly killed.
Therefore, it can be assumed that Chang Sansi's martial arts are somewhat inferior to Dong Xiangzhu's marrow cleansing and blood transfusion, but significantly stronger than Yan Laoda's bone forging realm—at least he's at the peak of tendon training. In any
case, he can't win in a fight. Another way to break out of this predicament
needs to be found. The only saving grace is that it's already dark, and from what some people are saying, there's a curfew tonight. Normally, the high-ranking and powerful Deputy Xiangzhu would be enjoying his company and wouldn't be interested in bothering a few beggars.
After all, the dead one was just a minor gang leader, not his father, so there's no need to rush to his funeral.
More likely, the escaped survivor wouldn't dare report to the Deputy Xiangzhu in the dead of night, making it difficult to even see him. Theoretically, this night should be safe.
"If you want to leave, then leave. Find somewhere to hide. You can try to sneak out of the city tomorrow morning. Life and death are in the hands of fate, wealth and honor are determined by heaven. It's better than waiting to die here."
Chen Ping had no intention of escaping. His leg was injured, and he could barely walk a few steps. What was the point of escaping? Even if he wasn't mistaken for a thief and killed in the dark, he would be too conspicuous at dawn and would be caught immediately.
Another reason was that if it was Black Wolf or Leopard who were "chasing the killer," he had no interest in it at all.
If it were a fox who always thinks thrice, then there's still room for negotiation.
The world is bustling, all for profit; the world is in turmoil, all for gain. As long as you grasp the pulse, the deaths of Boss Yan and the tall, thin man aren't insurmountable.
"I won't leave. Wherever Seventh Brother is, I'll be there. Life and death are the same."
The flower-faced one raised his head, his large eyes brimming with tears.
Damn, this guy's a crybaby.
"We brothers won't leave either. That day, Seventh Brother Tian pulled us out of the stinking ditch, not minding that we were eunuchs, and today he fought his way out. No matter what, I'll follow."
The little stool's face was effeminate, but now his fair face held an unusual ferocity, as if he wanted to devour someone.
The little table didn't speak, only nodded emphatically, clearly agreeing with his younger brother.
The left-handed man sighed, his eyes flickering for the first time: "I don't know how to survive, but Seventh Brother, you saved me from the mouths of wild dogs and gave me food. What's wrong with selling my life to you?"
So all these people were saved by his original self.
What a great philanthropist!
No need to ask, Da Sha was definitely someone he saved.
Let alone him, that guy's already dead, kicked to death by Boss Yan.
He died like an ant, utterly worthless. Fortunately, they had avenged him, so they could finally rest in peace.
"Let me think about this,"
Chen Ping waved weakly. Trying to survive with these little beggars seemed a bit too difficult.
However, he wasn't panicking, and there was a reason for it; it wasn't entirely due to boldness.
When he killed Boss Yan earlier, he seemed to have seen a small, transparent ball of light heading straight for his brow.
His vision cleared, and the attribute panel that had been flickering intermittently finally became clear.
[Spring and Autumn Silkworm (Second Rebirth)]
[Talents: Tracing the Source and Seizing Fortune, Rebirth from the Cocoon]
[Bone Structure: 4 (Average)]
[Comprehension: 3 (Ordinary)]
[Calamity: 2 (Breaking Through)]
[Fortune: 1 (Changing Fate)]
[Skills: Swimming Eight Trigrams Palm (Master), Springing Leg (Skilled)]
- Writer
