Chapter 307: Indeed, evil begets evil

Shen Wanjin was first stunned, then a surge of evil fire rushed straight to his head, the fat on his face trembling with anger.

"How could I be harming you?" He walked up to Qixiazi, spitting saliva all over his face, "What good would harming you do me? If we can't deliver the goods the superiors want, we'll both die!"

"The goods the superiors want?" Qixiazi's sweat soaked his hair and stuck to his face, he looked disheveled, his eyes full of madness.

He hadn't slept properly for days, working desperately in this sunless underground, already full of resentment.

"Are the superiors really urging the goods, or did you, Boss Shen, already plan it, waiting for this batch of ointment to be finished so you could make me, this 'remnant of Qingyunguan,' disappear completely?"

Shen Wanjin's pupils suddenly constricted, being exposed in his thoughts made him ashamed and angry, his face instantly tensing.

He indeed had the thought of killing the donkey after grinding the mill, so he urged Qixiazi to rush the poison's production.

Qixiazi knew too much; even his shameful habits must have been his doing, otherwise who else could it be?

He had originally planned that, once this batch of goods was handed over, to let this foul-smelling, down-on-his-luck Taoist priest die silently.

But now, this thought was shouted out loud by the other party to his face, like a fig leaf being violently ripped off, leaving him utterly embarrassed.

"Cut the crap!" Shen Wanjin burst out cursing, "You messed up the job yourself, caused such a big leak, and now you want to bite back?"

"Come here!" Shen Wanjin shouted sternly.

The two sturdy aides who had followed him down immediately stepped forward, one on each side, twisting Qixiazi's arms.

Qixiazi, busy day and night and constantly handling poison, was already frail; after a few struggles he couldn't move.

Shen Wanjin pulled out those three items from his bosom—a porcelain cup, a folding fan, and an inkstone—and slammed them hard into the sewage before Qixiazi.

"Speak! Was it you who did this? You stole these things and put them in front of me! Are you trying to scare me? Want to make me uneasy so you can sneak around and cause trouble?"

Qixiazi's face was splashed with sewage; he lowered his head to look at those few insignificant little objects, first bewildered, then as if he'd heard a huge joke, he let out a strange "hahaha" laugh.

"A teacup? A fan? A broken inkstone?" He lifted his face, full of mockery, "Shen Wanjin! Your Shen family has mountains of gold and silver, countless treasures—would I bother stealing these?"

"And yet you go stealing this junk? Even if I, Qixiazi, am destitute, I wouldn't stoop to stealing your worthless trinkets!"

His voice suddenly rose: "It's you! Why are you so nervous about these pieces of junk? Afraid people will know they're in your hands?"

"Could it be that these things themselves are of dubious origin? Did you steal them? Or are you up to some other shady business?"

"You!" Shen Wanjin's whole body jerked violently.

Indeed it was him!

His greatest secret, his most private habit that no one should ever know, has been discovered by him!

Yes, he likes to steal things.

It's a habit he himself despises, yet only when stealing does he feel at ease—that twisted pleasure makes him unable to break free.

And now, it's been shouted out in public by this defeated general who abandoned Xibei, fled here to beg for a meal, in this filthy, stinking underground!

After shock and shame, the overwhelming fear and resentment instantly turned into pure killing intent.

Shen Wanjin's face drained of color, the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably, his eyes locked on Qixiazi as if he wanted to devour him alive.

His voice low and hoarse: "You know too much."

He bent down sharply and scooped up a handful of sticky, slippery ointment from the murky water at his feet, glowing with a dark blue sheen.

"This is the ointment you painstakingly refined, Taoist Priest."

Shen Wanjin pulled a ferocious grin on his face, step by step approaching the tightly bound Qixiazi: "Today, let you taste this treasure yourself!"

"No——! Shen Wanjin, you dare! You dare kill me? The superiors won't let you off——wu!!!"

Qixiazi's terrified howl was forcibly cut off.

Shen Wanjin's hand, smeared with the poisonous ointment, viciously shoved into his wide-open mouth, forcing a large lump of deadly ointment straight down to his throat!

Qixiazi's eyes bulged, his throat emitted a "ge-ge" choking sound, his body convulsed violently.

Shen Wanjin panted, stepped back, and watched him go limp, rolling painfully in the sewage, clawing at his throat in an attempt to vomit up the swallowed poison.

Shen Wanjin coldly looked down at him, his eyes showing not a ripple.

Soon, Qixiazi twitched a few times and then breathed his last.

Shen Wanjin took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his hands: "Put it in a bag, sink it in the river, make it clean."

"Yes."

The granary doors opened silently, a plain cart was pushed out, carrying a bulging sack on it.

The two men glanced warily around, pushed the cart, and hurried toward the nearest river.

They deliberately chose deserted alleys, winding this way and that, arriving at a deserted stretch of riverbank.

The two of them together lifted the heavy sack to the shore, then stuffed two heavy stone pestles into the sack.

"Go on down!"

The sack was heaved into the river with a muffled "plop," splashing water, then quickly sank, leaving only a few whirlpools on the surface before calm returned.

The two waited a moment, confirmed there was no further movement, then brushed off their hands and left.

A moment later, Lu Qi, who had been following behind, said: "You're good in the water, go down and pull it up to see what it is."

"Okay." Zhou Ping and Zhou An took off their outer clothes, took a deep breath, and jumped into the water.

They fumbled around the riverbed and soon found that sack.

Zhou An pulled out his personal small knife, cleanly cut the rope, and opened the sack's mouth.

Zhou Ping pulled out the stone pestles inside, and the two together lifted the sack to the water's surface and brought it to shore.

Lu Qi bent over, pulled off most of the sack, and in the moonlight revealed a swollen, purplish face with eyes wide open inside.

Qixiazi!

No wonder we couldn't find you anywhere—turns out you were hiding in that granary!

Lu Qi recalled the corpse pit of Qingyunguan, those craftsmen, and spat hard: "Deserved!"

Zhou Ping's face turned a little pale: "Lord Seven, what is this?"

Lu Qi replied: "He's an utterly wicked villain; we chased him from Xibei all the way here—hehe, truly the net of heaven is vast, yet he ended up dying at Shen Wanjin's hands!"

The two brothers suddenly understood: "What about this corpse?"

Lu Qi was unconcerned: "Just toss it. You get up quickly, go back and change into dry clothes, don't aggravate the sickness."

The two felt a warmth in their hearts, climbed the riverbank, and the three of them returned together to Kong An's shop.

Kong An hurriedly fetched clean clothes for the two brothers to change into.

Zhou An whispered his thanks, and Kong An laughed heartily: "You and I are both the miss's people; the past, just forget it."

Zhou Ping nodded, and the three exchanged smiles.

The few people here heard Lu Qi's report,

"Qixiazi?" Xiao Ran raised an eyebrow, "Fine! Truly, evil meets its retribution!"

Xiao Er sneered: "Well, that saves us the trouble."

Xiao Ningxun looked at the granary's main gate and asked, "Guess what Shen Wanjin will do next?"