Chapter 160: Take the Money, Do the Job—No Deception, Young or Old

"My lord, shouldn't you ask who slaughtered the Hu family?"

The private secretary fulfilled his duty, reminding him as he should. Since this must be reported to the imperial court, the full story must be clarified. If superiors inquire, at least one can offer some excuse.

"Do you know how many first-rank martial experts the Hu family had? How many second- and third-rank ones? Even a fourth-rank expert, and over a hundred fully armed retainers. Where did they all go? Dead! All dead! A warrior capable of wiping out the entire Hu household—do you think I, a mere official, can afford to investigate? I'm not ready to die yet."

"Where did the Hu family provoke such a demon? I always believed the Hu family had committed countless evils and would eventually face retribution. I never expected it to come so swiftly."

"Indeed, this is retribution. The Hu family, whom our entire county could not touch, was wiped out in a single night. Such a warrior—I have no reason to provoke him. Besides, he's generous: he left us ample funds to clean up the mess. We should be grateful! Take the money, do the job well—don't you agree?"

"My lord speaks wisely. Take the money, do the job—no deception, young or old."

The victims must be properly cared for. Though that great hero left no words, only silver and the rescued captives, his intent was clear: we must show proper respect. If we treat them well, he will be satisfied. I have no desire to wake up one night with my head missing. You oversee this—take five… take a thousand taels from the funds for their accommodation.

"My lord is benevolent. A thousand taels of silver is more than enough for these wretched souls to have a good New Year."

"Ah! Seeing their pitiful state, even I cannot bear it. Look at that child—his face is ruined."

"My lord, that child had his ears, nose, and lips cut off."

"Of course I know that! Horrifying—terribly so. The Hu family drenched their hands in blood, cruel and heartless—they deserved this fate. Order a search: find out if any Hu survivors remain."

"If we find any survivors, my lord, how should we handle them?"

The county magistrate gritted his teeth. "The conclusion that the entire Hu household was slaughtered cannot be altered. Do you understand?"

"I understand! I will issue orders immediately to ensure no survivors remain alive."

"Excellent!"

Chen Guanlou stood atop the mountain peak, letting the icy wind howl, whipping his robes into loud flaps.

He gazed down at the village of Hu, watching yamen runners and soldiers come and go, hauling away crates of gold and silver. Only then did they load the victims onto carts.

The Hu family's main mansion had burned, but many intact houses remained—brick-and-tile dwellings, testifying to the village's unparalleled wealth.

At the county magistrate's order, more laborers were brought in to carry off every usable item. Finally, he gave the command: soldiers set fire to the front and back of every house, determined to erase this den of evil.

"Eradicate evil utterly. This place must never become a nest of crime again. Burn it—all of it. Seal this land. From now on, let it become a desolate wasteland no one dares approach. Then spread a few terrifying legends—no one will ever gather here to commit evil again."

"My lord's fire is well-placed—it cleanses the Hu family's remains, preventing plague from rotting corpses."

"Even dead, the Hu family still troubles me. I must worry about plague. Remember: leave not a single corpse unburned. Burn them all clean."

"My lord, rest assured—I guarantee the task is completed. No survivors will escape."

Flames rose, thick with smoke, surging toward the heavens.

Chen Guanlou, his great sword strapped to his back, descended the mountain and headed home.

Ahead on the road, a bearded man stood in the center, gripping a dog-head saber.

"You're the nameless great hero?"

Chen Guanlou still wore the nameless great hero's attire: coarse linen robes, black cloth shoes, his face weathered by the cold wind.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the one here to take your life!"

A hostile visitor never comes in peace. He deliberately blocked Chen Guanlou's path down the mountain—Qi Laoda truly had vast influence and was cold-hearted enough to watch his partner, the Hu family, wiped out without blinking.

His sole target: the nameless great hero.

"Brother, you've waited long. What did your boss tell you?" Chen Guanlou unslung his great sword, speaking as if chatting over tea.

"What boss? I came here with a Jianghu warrant to kill you."

Chen Guanlou's eyebrows lifted slightly—he wasn't Qi Laoda's man.

"What Jianghu warrant?"

"The Jianghu warrant to kill you."

"May I ask, how much is my head worth?"

"A thousand taels of gold."

"Quite expensive. How did you find me?"

"The fire lit the sky—it even startled the officials. I heard the nameless great hero was going to slaughter the Hu family, and here you are. Let's fight!"

Chen Guanlou smiled.

The blade drew.

He passed the bearded man, stepping forward. The man stood frozen—slowly, a crimson line appeared on his neck, widening, lengthening, until blood gushed forth.

The bearded man collapsed. Even in death, he could not fathom how such a swift blade could exist.

Without pause, Chen Guanlou continued down the mountain.

He met two brothers, swordsmen.

"You two waited here for me?"

"The nameless great hero?"

"Bullshit nameless great hero. You're a thief—sneaking around, too cowardly to use your real name."

"What do you gain by killing me?"

"A thousand taels of gold is enough!"

"Who sent you the tip, waiting on this road for me?"

"You'll find out down below."

"Enough. Since you won't answer, go below and join the one who sent you."

He drew his blade.

The blade flashed.

The two brothers, one before the other, blood slowly dripping from their swords.

Chen Guanlou passed them and continued down the mountain.

Thud!

The brothers' bodies fell. Chen Guanlou did not look back.

He trusted his blade—it never missed.

How powerful was the third chapter of the Sheng Tian Lu? He didn't know. He only knew he was faster, stronger.

He arrived at the riverbank in one breath.

There sat a Daoist on a stone, fishing.

The Daoist tied his hair with a simple wooden hairpin, wore a coarse hemp robe, and stepped in straw sandals—old, worn smooth by time, yet perfectly intact, no repairs visible.

What kind of cultivation art could wear straw sandals to a polished sheen without damaging them?

Chen Guanlou sat on a large rock.

"Master, are there fish here? Can you catch any?"

Chen Guanlou rested. After such a long journey, he needed a pause, a drink, a bite to eat.

"Wu Liang Shou Fu. Young friend, are you crossing the river? Too bad the boatman hasn't come today."

"No matter—I'll wait. Do you often fish here?"

"This is my first time. I don't know how good the catch will be."

"With Master here, today's catch will surely be plentiful and fine."

"I thank you for your good words."