Chapter 7

Nanshan Town.

In this town located to the south of the city, shops and stalls selling fabrics and textiles were everywhere.

However, most of the shops and stalls were closed and locked, long devoid of the once bustling and noisy atmosphere.

In recent years, the taxes imposed by the court had become increasingly heavy, and the commercial taxes were unbearable. The former glory had long since faded, leaving only faint traces.

Wei He walked along the street, head down, most of his face covered with a cloth, his steps hurried, and his clothes changed to the most common gray hemp.

During these days, he did not rely solely on his third senior brother Cheng Shaojiu to gather information about Chen Biao and the other two.

After a few cautious tails, he obtained the address of Chen Biao and the others.

Lowering his head to avoid a broken bamboo pole used for drying clothes, Wei He soon arrived at a small, dilapidated courtyard.

The courtyard gate was half-open, and inside, a woman with red eyes, carrying a packed suitcase, was leading a child of only a few years old out.

The woman had some beauty, but the tear marks and swollen eyes on her face showed her poor state and mood.

Leading the child, the woman glanced at Wei He's attire, kept her head down, and left without closing the door.

Wei He recognized her.

She was Chen Biao's daughter-in-law, Shanju, who was a well-known widow in the area before her marriage.

"Who's there!?" Chen Biao's voice came from inside the courtyard, somewhat puzzled.

Wei He pushed the door open and entered the courtyard.

In the center of the courtyard, Chen Biao, with one arm bound in a gray cloth bandage and a few spots of blood seeping through, was sitting on the steps in front of the inner room door.

"Chen Biao, as soon as I heard you were injured, I rushed over," Wei He said with a smile.

"You? You are...?" Chen Biao stood up, puzzled.

Before he could say more, he suddenly felt dizzy as a handful of white lime was thrown in his face.

Ah!!

Chen Biao wildly swung his right hand, trying to block any possible attack.

Wei He kicked Chen Biao in the abdomen, picked up a hoe from the corner of the wall, and struck Chen Biao's head several times with great force.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!

Dropping the hoe, Wei He did not even look at the motionless Chen Biao on the ground, turned around, and left the courtyard, pulling the door shut behind him.

Then, without a word, he walked away with his head covered.

He continued walking until he left Nanshan Town and reached a small river between the towns, sitting among a patch of wild grass.

Only then did he take deep breaths.

Everything went as he had planned from the beginning, and it was even smoother. The injured Chen Biao had no strength to resist, let alone when Wei He had blinded him with lime.

He had simulated this many times, but when it came to the real thing, it was much easier than he had imagined.

The Chen Biao he had imagined to be strong and intimidating did not even make a sound before he was finished.

'I... no one saw me when I came in or out. I was always covered, and he didn't call out my name. Only the widow Shanju saw me, but she probably didn't see my face.'

Wei He, hands trembling, removed the gray cloth from his head, took off his coat, and turned it to cover the bloodstains.

'I wonder how Chen Biao is? With such force, he should... ' Wei He did not continue his thoughts.

Although death was common in this era, and bodies were often dragged out of sewers in the city, and corpses were frequently found outside the city, eaten by wild dogs, which were then hunted and eaten by people, this time, Chen Biao might really be dead, and by his own hands.

Wei He took deep breaths, constantly adjusting his physical state.

'Chen Biao has been eyeing my second sister Wei Ying and often engages in human trafficking. He almost stole the money I needed for martial arts training. If he doesn't die, my sister can't be at ease.

So, I am doing a service to the people. I am right, I am right.'

Wei He kept finding reasons for himself, but he knew in his heart.

Originally, he had intended to cripple Chen Biao, not to kill him.

But when he actually started, his mind went blank, and all his strength burst out, fearing Chen Biao would call out his name.

To prevent him from making a sound, he instinctively struck his head, and after five or six strikes, he realized he had hit too hard.

Now, thinking about it, with his head covered, the other side probably couldn't tell who he was.

'And a hoe made of wrought iron, with my current strength of lifting an eighty-pound stone... all hitting the head...'

Wei He knew in his heart that Chen Biao was definitely done for.

He was not worried about the authorities, as they were completely ineffective. People died in the city and outside every day, and various crimes occurred, but the officials at the yamen turned a blind eye and a deaf ear.

'Originally... this is what killing is... ' Wei He's hands were still trembling, but he knew he had to adapt.

In this era, if you weren't ruthless, you couldn't survive.

He didn't want to die, so he had to make others die.

After a long time, he stood up.

He turned and walked back into the town.

Not long after.

At the residence of another of Chen Biao's henchmen, a small bungalow.

Wei He walked in expressionlessly and came out a short while later with a bit of blood on his hands.

The first time was a bit scary, but after getting used to it, he was less nervous.

Next was the third location, the residence of Chen Biao's second henchman.

It was a small mud house between two towns.

When Wei He arrived, it was almost dusk.

The area around the mud house was empty, a wasteland.

Outside the house, there were many dried corn stalks piled up.

Wei He walked to the door and knocked lightly.

Knock, knock, knock.

Silence. No sound inside.

Knock, knock, knock.

He knocked again and waited.

After a while, there was still no sound.

Thinking for a moment, he walked to the window and peered inside through the gap.

These mud houses generally had poorly sealed doors and windows, with large gaps, allowing a clear view inside.

Borrowing the dim light, Wei He saw a person lying on the bed.

It was a man in a black short jacket.

'Someone is here.'

He walked back to the door, looked around, and saw no one nearby.

He took a few steps back, then charged forward and kicked the door.

Bang!

The kick easily broke the old wooden door of the mud house.

He had been training for half a year, and his strength was no longer that of the former weakling.

Now, his build was similar to Chen Biao's, and his strength was probably about the same. One or two people might not be able to hold him down.

The door was kicked open, but there was still no sound inside.

Wei He, puzzled and alert, stood at the door and looked inside.

"Zhao Deli, get up," he said.

The person on the bed did not move, as if he hadn't heard.

The room was filled with a foul smell, like something had rotted.

Wei He's face changed slightly, and he had a hunch.

He approached and turned the person on the bed over.

A pale, emaciated face appeared before him.

The eyes were sunken, dry, and lifeless, with small black insects crawling in and out of the nostrils.

This Zhao Deli, Chen Biao's henchman, had been dead for who knows how long.

No one had even noticed he was dead.

Most crucially, this man was holding a child in his arms.

The child was curled up, a small, emaciated face, with black insects crawling in and out of the ears and mouth.

Wei He's scalp tingled, and he quickly stepped back, running out of the house to breathe deeply.

He was scared by the bodies, but more so by the stench.

Three people, two killed by his own hands, and one who had been dead for who knows how long.

The grudge was settled, but Wei He felt no satisfaction.

He washed his hands by the nearby river and returned to his old house, somewhat numb.

His mind was filled with the image of the dried corpse on the bed.

He had known that Zhao Deli had a child, but he hadn't expected the man to have died in his own home, holding his child, for who knows how long.

'This is the chaos of the times, this is the value of human life.'

Wei He sat on his bed, the moonlight casting a pale glow on his face.

He didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning, the image of the dried corpse child constantly appearing in his mind.

When dawn came, he got up, ate the golden worm meat he had bought from the pharmacy.

This food was more filling than regular meals and helped accumulate the breakthrough pearl in his chest faster.

Wei He tried to push the images out of his mind, and the thought of the special ability he had brought from his past life gave him some comfort.

However, the taste of the golden worm meat, while effective, was not pleasant.

Wei He put a small piece in his mouth, and it felt like chewing on dry wood, requiring a lot of saliva to swallow.

On the other side.

Nanshan Town, at Zhao Deli's mud house.

The sun had not yet risen, but several strong men in gray short jackets had already arrived at the mud house.

"Is this the place?"

"Yes."

They whispered.

One of them kicked the door open and quickly went inside for a moment before coming out.

"They're all dead."

"The woman's last stop was here. The black insects are the evidence. Look around; the black insects are still active, so she can't have gone far," the leader said in a low voice.

"From the evidence, she must have stayed here temporarily, using this mud house as a shelter before leaving."

"We must find her. Also, leave one person to eliminate anyone who might have seen the black insects."

"Understood!"

Soon, the entire mud house was engulfed in flames, and after confirming everything inside was destroyed, they turned and quietly left.

...

...

Time passed quickly, and another month went by.

Wei He practiced his techniques daily and began his first skin hardening.

Swish, swish, swish.

In the courtyard of Huishan Fist, in front of a large wooden basin, Wei He, bare-armed, continuously punched the sand inside.

Dry, hard sand was the first step in skin hardening.

Wei He's movements were neither too fast nor too slow, each punch deeply embedding into the sand, ensuring every part of his fist was thoroughly rubbed.

After half an hour of rubbing, he pulled his fists out and immersed them in a medicinal bath for fifty breaths.

The medicinal bath was kept warm by a charcoal fire below.

Several other men were also practicing skin hardening around him.

Others were waiting with their arms crossed for their turn.

These skin hardening spots were highly valued.