Chapter 14: Establishing Authority

Before Wang Zhao’s hut, a circle had already formed.

“Brother Zhao, I really didn’t steal anything.”

The guard Zhao Mazi crossed his arms and sneered sideways: “Don’t you know whether you stole it or not?!”

“Then tell us—how did Second Madam’s earring end up in your room?”

“Speak!”

Zhao Mazi intensified his tone.

Behind him stood several guards, all scowling; in his hand he held a delicate pearl pendant—clearly jewelry only a wealthy household’s lady or daughter could afford.

In the Zhu household, stealing from the masters was a grave offense—punishable by death.

These guards were all massive, muscular, and covered in coarse flesh, intimidating to behold.

Some servants saw something was wrong but dared not speak, fearing the trouble would turn on them.

This was only natural.

Everyone knew Zhao Mazi was Zhu Lie’s man; servants followed their masters, and all were unreasonable. Anger Zhao Mazi, and you’d face endless frame-ups like this.

This had happened several times before.

But Zhao Mazi had Zhu Lie’s protection, and he only targeted servants.

Master Zhu wouldn’t risk tearing with his own brother over such a trivial matter—it always ended in silence.

But it was a life!

Yet the life of a lowly commoner wasn’t a life at all.

“Come, come with me to see Master—let him judge this matter.”

Hearing he must face Master, Wang Zhao’s face turned deathly pale.

Last month, the corpse of the new servant Master Zhu had beaten to death still lay in the mass grave—if he truly met Master, his fate wouldn’t be better.

“Brother Zhao, I’m innocent—I’ve been framed!”

Wang Zhao frantically banged his head on the ground.

This morning, these men had stormed into his room without warning, accused him of theft, ransacked everything, and then Zhao Mazi pulled out the pendant and swore he stole it.

Zhao Mazi grinned without warmth: “You’re saying I framed you?”

Wang Zhao fell silent, helplessly glancing around at the crowd.

This was like mud falling into one’s trousers—impossible to explain.

Zhao Mazi had long mastered this trick.

Saying this, Zhao Mazi raised his hand to strike again.

He knew perfectly well Wang Zhao was innocent—the pendant had always been on his person; he’d slipped it in during the search.

“Blame your master for angering someone he shouldn’t have!”

Li Rui was valued by the Zhu father and son, so they couldn’t touch him—but his disciple? Easy. No consequences at all.

Even if Master Zhu knew, he’d never defend a servant.

In Master Zhu’s eyes, Wang Zhao was a commodity—with a fixed price.

“Stop!”

At that moment, Yang Yong and Li Rui pushed through the crowd.

Yang Yong barked loudly.

Zhao Mazi saw the main party had arrived and let out a mock “Oh?”

“Old Li, your disciple has a black heart—he stole from the masters. What do you say should be done?”

Li Rui ignored Zhao Mazi.

He stepped forward, helped the kneeling Wang Zhao to his feet, and brushed the snow off his clothes.

Zhao Mazi, ignored, flew into a rage.

Even the martial arts master looked down on him—but a seventy-year-old old man dared to?

“Old Li, you’re hanging yourself from the tree of longevity—you’ve got too much life!”

Zhao Mazi stepped forward, raising his foot to kick.

But he dared not strike hard—if he killed Li Rui, he couldn’t explain it.

Just as his foot was about to touch Li Rui’s clothing—

Li Rui’s foot shot out swiftly, striking Zhao Mazi’s belly first.

Thud!

Zhao Mazi instantly twisted in agony, rolling like a ball across the snow before finally stopping.

Zhao Mazi groaned in the snow for two breaths, rolled his eyes, and fainted.

“Who else among you—”

Li Rui retracted his foot and turned to scan the surrounding guards.

“Wants to take my disciple?”

“This—”

Zhao Mazi’s followers exchanged glances, each seeing fear in the others’ eyes.

Zhao Mazi led them not just because he was a sycophant, but because he could fight—like a mad dog, fearless of pain, which was why Zhu Lie favored him.

Now that Zhao Mazi couldn’t withstand one blow from Li Rui, who among them dared move?

“Why’s Old Li so fierce now?”

“I heard Old Li recently trained in a martial art called Eight Brocades—it suited him perfectly, and he’s already achieved minor mastery.”

“Minor mastery?”

“You’re blowing smoke.”

“Still, Old Li does have some skill.”

The Zhu household servants were stunned by Li Rui’s thunderous display.

In their memory, Li Rui had always been a mild, cautious, cheerful old man who greeted everyone—many had grown up under his watch.

But this Old Li now radiated menace—like a tiger holding back its roar.

The guards exchanged glances and dared not provoke Li Rui again.

They hastily lifted the fallen Zhao Mazi and fled like rats from a sinking ship.

“Alright, everyone, disperse.”

Seeing Zhu Lie’s men gone, Li Rui spoke to the crowd.

“Old Li, how’d you get so strong?”

A sharp-faced, monkey-like young servant voiced everyone’s question.

Li Rui smiled faintly: “I recently trained in a martial art called Eight Brocades. I didn’t expect it to suit me so well—I’ve already achieved minor mastery.”

Hearing this,

the crowd erupted in murmurs.

Old Li really trained!

No wonder his body had grown so much sturdier—many had noticed Li Rui’s transformation.

“Too bad—if he’d started forty years earlier, he might have become a martial arts master and shed his lowly status.”

An experienced elder spoke the truth.

Even if Li Rui was strong now, he had no real potential—he could never become a martial arts master. At best, he could fight a bit better—but as he aged, even that advantage would vanish completely.

Timing matters greatly in cultivation.

Take Master Zhu’s eldest son—he began training in child’s qigong at age five, and consumed countless rare herbs. No ordinary man could compare.

The crowd dispersed.

Wang Zhao looked at Li Rui with innocent gratitude: “Master, I’ve caused you trouble.”

Li Rui did not blame Wang Zhao.

Zhao Mazi had Zhu Lie’s backing and intended to frame him—there was no avoiding such schemes, only accepting defeat.

His sudden outburst today was to protect Wang Zhao—and also to reveal his strength, just enough.

His changes after training were too obvious; whispers about him had reached his ears, carried from Yang Yong—he could no longer hide it.

Concealing one’s ability isn’t stupidity.

Revealing just enough strength can quell idle speculation and deter hidden enemies, avoiding much trouble.

And now, he was already a ranked expert.

If the Zhu household pushed too far, he’d simply take Wang Zhao and flee under cover of night—become a hunter or blade-wielding outlaw in the mountains.

(End of Chapter)