Chapter 421: Chen Guangrui Slays the Villain, the Hongjiang Dragon King Repays His Debt

Li Biao gripped a boning knife and advanced step by step toward Yin Wenjiao in the corner.

He licked his lips with his tongue, his eyes filled with lewd lust.

Chen Guangrui stood in place, staring at his own rough hands, feeling the brutal strength of Liu Hong within his body.

This body had spent years living by the blade, its muscles packed with explosive power.

“Big brother, I’ll go first,” Li Biao called out without turning, reaching for Yin Wenjiao’s collar.

Yin Wenjiao recoiled in terror, her back slamming against the cabin wall—with nowhere left to escape.

At that moment, Chen Guangrui stepped forward, gripping his heavy-backed broadsword with both hands and raising it high.

Without the slightest hesitation, flashes of Su Chen’s grim fate surged through his mind, igniting a torrent of rage in his chest.

He powered up from his waist, his arms bulging with muscle, and brought the sword down with a howling wind.

Plop!

The blade sliced through skin and flesh, embedding deep into Li Biao’s right shoulder blade.

“Ahh!” Li Biao let out a piercing scream.

He spun around violently, eyes wide, fixed on Chen Guangrui.

“Big brother… you…?” Li Biao’s face was filled with disbelief.

He couldn’t understand why his brother-in-arms, who had always called him brother, would suddenly turn killer.

Was it to claim the woman for himself?

Chen Guangrui’s face was expressionless; he lifted his right foot and kicked Li Biao hard in the lower back, using the force to wrench the blade free.

As the sword was pulled out, blood spurted, splattering across Chen Guangrui’s face.

Li Biao staggered to the ground, clutching his shoulder, trying to rise.

Chen Guangrui stepped forward, twisted his wrist, and swung the broadsword horizontally.

The blade sliced across Li Biao’s neck, severing his throat; he clamped both hands over it, blood gushing through his fingers, convulsing a few times before falling still.

Even in death, his wide eyes retained shock and unwillingness.

Yin Wenjiao clutched her head and let out a shrill scream.

She stared at the blood-smeared “Liu Hong,” her body trembling violently.

Chen Guangrui lowered his sword, its tip dripping blood.

He looked at his wife huddled in the corner, his heart like a knife piercing it.

He longed to drop the sword, walk over, and hold her, to tell her the truth.

But he could not—he knew that if he opened his mouth, the gods and buddhas watching from above would sense it.

The Daoist Yichen’s scheme to deceive heaven and earth would fail utterly.

Chen Guangrui bent down, seized the collar of Li Biao’s corpse, and dragged it out of the cabin.

The river wind howled; Chen Guangrui walked to the ship’s edge, braced his arms, and hurled Li Biao’s body into the Hongjiang River.

Water churned; the corpse vanished instantly into the dark current.

He turned back, entered the cabin, and did the same—tossing the dead retainer’s body into the river.

Finally, he stood before the corpse dressed in the blue official robe—“Chen Guangrui.”

This was the real Liu Hong, his face altered by Su Chen’s magic.

Chen Guangrui stared at the face on the ground—his own face—and took a deep breath.

He grabbed the corpse’s collar, dragged it out of the cabin, and threw it into the raging river.

Inside the cabin, only Yin Wenjiao remained; while Chen Guangrui was disposing of the bodies, she rose and slammed her head into the cabin wall.

Chen Guangrui reacted swiftly, grabbing her arm and yanking her back.

“Let me go! You monster! Kill me!” Yin Wenjiao struggled wildly, punching his solid chest.

Chen Guangrui gritted his teeth against the pain, tore off strips of cloth, and bound her hands tightly behind her to the wooden post.

“Want to die? It won’t be that easy,” Chen Guangrui growled in Liu Hong’s coarse voice.

Yin Wenjiao’s hair hung loose, tears streaming from her eyes.

“You killed my husband—I’ll haunt you even as a ghost!”

Chen Guangrui turned away, refusing to look at her.

He strode out of the cabin and slammed the wooden door shut behind him.

The river raged with storm winds; Chen Guangrui walked to the stern, gripped the oar.

Fighting the rain and wind, he rowed fiercely, forcing the boat through the turbulent waters.

He tilted his head up, letting the cold rain strike his face.

He knew that from this day forward, he was the monster Liu Hong.

He would carry hatred and live.

Beneath the Hongjiang River, dark currents surged.

A night-forking water demon patrolled among the waterweeds, holding a steel trident.

He saw a dark shadow sinking from above.

The demon swam closer—it was a corpse dressed in a blue official robe, a fatal slash through its chest.

The demon did not delay; he lifted the corpse and swam swiftly toward the underwater crystal palace.

Inside the crystal palace, pearl lights glowed softly.

The Hongjiang Dragon King sat upon his throne.

The demon placed the corpse in the center of the hall. “Your Majesty, I found this mortal corpse in the river. By his attire, he’s an imperial official.”

The Hongjiang Dragon King descended from his throne and approached the corpse.

He looked closely—and his face turned pale.

“My benefactor!” the Dragon King cried out in shock.

The day before, at Wanhuadian Market, he had been caught by a fisherman after gorging himself.

It was this scholar in the blue robe who bought him, releasing him back into the Hongjiang.

The Dragon King knelt, examining the corpse—the clean, precise slash through the heart.

“Murder for profit!” the Dragon King rose, eyes blazing with fury.

“How could such a virtuous man meet his end at the hands of a villain?” He paced the hall in agitation.

He stopped, turned to the Turtle Prime Minister.

“Quickly, go to the treasury and fetch my Preserving Pearl!”

The Turtle Prime Minister bowed and returned swiftly, holding a pearl radiating cold energy.

The Dragon King personally pried open “Chen Guangrui’s” mouth and placed the Preserving Pearl inside.

As the pearl entered his throat, the corpse’s pallor seemed to regain a trace of vitality; its flesh ceased decaying.

“Night-forker, go at once to the local City God Temple and find out where my benefactor’s soul has gone. Bring it back to the Dragon Palace.”

The night-forker bowed and departed.

Half an hour later, the night-forker returned to the crystal palace, kneeling on the floor.

“Your Majesty, the City God Temple’s records show no soul-restraint entry for this official. I searched the river surface—no trace of his soul.”

The Dragon King frowned, then sighed.

“His body died violently, his soul left unanchored. My benefactor must have become a wandering ghost, drifting somewhere unknown.”

The Dragon King pointed to a side hall.

“Place my benefactor’s body in the crystal coffin. Guard it well. When the chance arises, we must recover his soul and repay his life-saving grace.”

Several water spirits stepped forward, carefully lifting the corpse toward the side hall.

Dawn broke; the storm ceased.

The boat reached shore; Chen Guangrui set down the oar and pushed open the cabin door.

Inside, Yin Wenjiao leaned against the wooden post.

Her eyes were hollow, her face ashen.

Chen Guangrui walked over and untied the cloth bindings on her hands.

The moment the ropes loosened, Yin Wenjiao snatched the silver hairpin from her hair and plunged it straight into her throat.

Chen Guangrui had anticipated this; his right hand shot out, seized her wrist, and squeezed hard—the hairpin clattered onto the wooden floor.

“You’re pregnant,” Chen Guangrui said coldly.

Yin Wenjiao froze. She stopped struggling, staring blankly at the “monster” before her.

“If you die, your child dies too.”

Chen Guangrui knew he must awaken her will to live.

Yin Wenjiao instinctively touched her flat abdomen.

Her period had indeed been delayed lately—but with the constant travel, she hadn’t thought much of it.

Now, with those words spoken, a powerful maternal instinct surged within her.

This was the last bloodline Chen Guangrui had left behind.

“I advise you to live.”

Chen Guangrui picked up the silver hairpin and threw it into the river.

He turned and descended the boat, leading out the chestnut horse and carriage.

Yin Wenjiao covered her face and wept uncontrollably.

She wept heart-wrenchingly; for the child in her womb, she bit her lip until it bled, abandoning the thought of suicide.

She rose to her feet, smoothed her disheveled clothes, and stumbled off the boat.

Chen Guangrui led his horse, while Yin Wenzhao sat inside the carriage.

The two traveled along the official road toward Jiangzhou.

Several days later, the gates of Jiangzhou came into view.

Chen Guangrui rode his horse, gazing at the towering city walls; he reached into his robe and touched the official credentials.

Entering Jiangzhou City, they went straight to the Department Magistrate’s government office.

The Jiangzhou Deputy Magistrate led a group of government office runners to greet them at the gate.

Chen Guangrui dismounted, pulled out the imperial edict and official credentials from his robe, and handed them to the deputy.

The deputy accepted them with both hands, examined them carefully—the seals were correct, the documents in order.

“Your servant pays homage to the Department Magistrate!” the deputy bowed deeply; behind him, the government office runners knelt in unison.

Chen Guangrui gave a slight nod, stepped into the government office, passed through the courtyard, and arrived at the main hall.

He donned the prepared blue official robe, placed the black gauze cap on his head, walked to the central desk in the hall, and sat down.

The gavel lay quietly on the desk; Chen Guangrui reached out, gripped it, and slammed it down hard.

Crack!

The sharp sound echoed through the hall.

Chen Guangrui lifted his head, his gaze crossing the eaves of the hall toward the clear blue sky.

He swore within his heart: he would protect his wife and child in this Jiangzhou City, and shatter the schemes of gods and buddhas.

High above the nine heavens, deep within the clouds.

The Golden-Headed Jieti and Silver-Headed Jieti stood on the clouds, gazing down upon the Jiangzhou government office.

“Chen Guangrui is dead; Liu Hong has taken his place.” The Golden-Headed Jieti spoke calmly.

“Yin Wenzhao endures humiliation to survive. Silver-Headed Jieti, you stay here and watch. I shall go report to the Bodhisattva.”