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Chapter 63: Watermelon

~8 min read 1,515 words

Geng Zhiwei set three conditions: first, Yu Family Pharmacy must give him five percent of the shares; second, Yu Nan must marry him as his sixth concubine; third, he must publicly beat Yu Nan.

Yu Nan’s face turned pale.

Jia Quansheng chimed in from the side: “I think my brother’s three conditions are fair, Boss Yu—marrying into the Geng family is your fortune!”

Before Yu Nan could speak, her bodyguards couldn’t hold back: “Geng Zhiwei, you bastard, I’ll curse your ancestors eight generations deep!”

Geng Zhiwei spat on the ground: “Who the hell are you? Do you have the right to speak? Boss Yu, I’ve stated my terms—do you accept them?”

He wasn’t here to negotiate—he was here solely to humiliate!

Yu Nan stood up: “Young Master Geng, it seems we can’t reach an agreement. Since you refuse to show face, let’s pick another time and settle this by force!”

This meant war.

“Perfect! I love your directness!” Geng Zhiwei laughed. “No need to reschedule—today is fine. Let’s fight now!”

Two of Geng Zhiwei’s bodyguards drew their blades and charged forward; Yu Nan instantly drew her revolver and aimed it straight at Geng Zhiwei.

Geng Zhiwei sat calmly in his chair, sipping tea, showing no fear.

One bodyguard stepped in front of him; Yu Nan pulled the trigger and fired—a bullet struck the guard’s chest.

Blood gushed from the guard’s chest; he staggered twice, still gripping his cleaver, and kept charging toward Yu Nan.

What an incredibly tough physique!

Is this a Body Cultivator?

Yu Nan quickly fired a second shot.

Click!

The hammer struck the bullet’s base—but the round didn’t fire.

Dud!

Yu Nan fired a third shot—still a dud.

Is she this unlucky?

This had nothing to do with luck—in Pulu Province, gunpowder was unreliable; firearms fired successfully less than thirty percent of the time. Duds were extremely common.

This was also why Li Banfeng had never touched firearms.

In Pulu Province, firearms weren’t the preferred weapon—revolvers were tolerable, but recoil-loaded pistols were a nightmare when they misfired.

Yu Nan fired six rounds in succession; the cylinder completed one full rotation, but only two bullets discharged.

Both bullets hit the guard—he bled continuously but never fell. Meanwhile, Yu Nan took a cleaver slash to the shoulder.

Took two bullets and showed no reaction?

This wasn’t defense or evasion—it was taking bullets straight to the body and enduring them!

This couldn’t be explained by ordinary physical toughness—this guard wasn’t ordinary at all.

From Yu Nan’s understanding, this man was likely a Level Three Body Cultivator.

But why would a Level Three Body Cultivator serve as Geng Zhiwei’s bodyguard?

According to Yu Nan’s knowledge, the strongest guard beside Geng Zhiwei was a Level Two Body Cultivator.

And it wasn’t just one guard who was this strong—the other guard was already fighting two of Yu Nan’s associates.

The associates had no weapons; they fought with chairs.

One chair leg broke off; the associate jammed it into the guard’s body—the guard bled, yet his combat power remained unchanged.

One associate was pierced through the chest by Geng Zhiwei’s guard and collapsed.

The other associate fought desperately against two guards at once.

“Boss, run! Get out!” the associate screamed—his belly had been pierced by the guard’s cleaver.

Downstairs, shouts of battle erupted—Yu Family Textile’s associates were now fighting Geng Family Pharmacy’s men.

One Geng Family man had his skull split open by an axe; blood drenched his entire body, yet he still fought with a dagger.

His head was split open—and he was still fighting?

Were all the men Geng Zhiwei brought today Level Three cultivators?

That’s impossible…

Yu Nan took another slash to her leg; her eyes filled with panic.

Late at night, Yu Nan returned to Baixiang Village with her people.

Of thirty-three associates, eleven were dead; only two bodies were brought back—the other nine remained at Wangchun Tower, unknown what Geng Zhiwei had done to them.

Everyone, including Yu Nan, was wounded—and badly.

As for the Geng family, many of them were injured too, but before retreating, Yu Nan hadn’t seen a single one of them fall.

She never imagined the Geng family’s strength had reached this level.

After briefly treating their wounds, Yu Nan ordered her men to set up a funeral hall and honor the fallen brothers.

After everyone bowed, Yu Nan stood alone to keep vigil. After burning two bundles of spirit money, she sighed deeply: “Brothers, walk slowly on the path to the underworld—I’ll join you soon.”

Li Banfeng entered the funeral hall and burned some spirit paper alongside Yu Nan.

Though he didn’t know them, this was respect for the dead.

Yu Nan stared at the corpses in the hall, lowered her head, and said sorrowfully: “I thought Geng Zhiwei invited me to dinner to at least follow proper etiquette first—I never imagined he lured me out only to attack immediately.

I knew I couldn’t match the Geng family in strength, but I never thought he was this powerful.

Geng Zhiwei will surely come to Baixiang Village tomorrow looking for me—I can’t escape this fate.

Seventh Master, take Qin Boss and leave quickly. I can’t protect you anymore—I’m barely holding on myself.”

Li Banfeng asked: “You knew you couldn’t win against the Geng family—why did you still show up for the banquet with open weapons?”

Yu Nan lowered her head: “I had no choice. He sent an invitation—I had to go. That’s the way of the Jianghu.”

Li Banfeng asked: “Is Geng Zhiwei a man who follows rules?”

“No,” Yu Nan answered softly.

“Then what use are these rules?”

After a long silence, Yu Nan raised her voice: “If I don’t go, my brothers and I will never hold our heads high again!”

Li Banfeng looked up at the two corpses in the hall and asked: “Are they holding their heads high now?”

Yu Nan stayed silent.

Li Banfeng asked again: “If Geng Zhiwei kills you tomorrow, will you be holding your head high then?”

Yu Nan had no answer.

Li Banfeng asked once more: “Tell me—what use are these rules?”

Yu Nan had no reply.

She didn’t want to speak of Jianghu rules anymore.

After years of struggle, she’d always thought of herself as a Jianghu person.

But now, facing Geng Zhiwei, Yu Nan felt she didn’t understand the Jianghu at all.

After a long silence, Yu Nan sighed: “Seventh Master, perhaps I was wrong—but now isn’t the time to debate right or wrong.

Geng Zhiwei won’t let me go, and he won’t let you go either. He’ll find you eventually. I only want to warn you: leave quickly.”

She was right—if Geng Zhiwei kept advancing unchecked, he would eventually find Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng wasn’t hard to find—capture a few of Yu Nan’s men, torture them, and they’d give up his name.

At that moment, a young girl walked into the funeral hall, tears streaming down her face, holding a sharp knife: “Boss, this knife belonged to Old Ba—I want to keep it as a memory.”

The girl was Wang Xuejiao—Old Ba’s older sister.

Old Ba was dead—his body hadn’t even been recovered.

Yu Nan nodded: “Take it.”

Li Banfeng looked at the knife—its surface was speckled with red stains, still stained with blood; he caught a peculiar metallic odor.

“Miss, may I see the knife?”

Wang Xuejiao handed it to Li Banfeng; he sniffed it carefully: “This is a watermelon knife?”

“Nonsense!” Wang Xuejiao snapped. “This was Old Ba’s knife—he’s carried it since the day he joined Boss Yu! It’s covered in the blood of Geng’s bastards!”

Li Banfeng examined the red specks on the blade: “These aren’t blood—they’re watermelon juice. This knife has been chopping watermelons all day.”

Watermelon?

Yu Nan froze. Wang Xuejiao screamed at Li Banfeng: “Who the hell are you to insult my brother!”

Li Banfeng looked at the girl but offered no explanation.

Yu Nan had someone escort Wang Xuejiao out, then picked up the knife and sniffed it herself.

There was a metallic smell—but she couldn’t tell if it was blood or watermelon juice.

Li Banfeng told Yu Nan: “Bring more weapons—we’ll test them all and find out.”

Soon, associates brought over a dozen weapons; Li Banfeng sniffed each one and confirmed his judgment: “These are all watermelon juice. There’s a hint of blood, but the sweetness of watermelon still comes through.”

Yu Nan didn’t believe him: “I can’t smell it.”

Li Banfeng picked up an axe from the pile and scraped off a small flake from its rusted surface.

Anyone else would’ve taken it for rust—or even Geng family flesh.

But only Li Banfeng could identify it by scent.

It wasn’t rust. It wasn’t flesh.

Li Banfeng cleaned the flake, broke it open—and saw a black shell with white inside: “Look closely—this is a watermelon seed.”

Yu Nan stared for a long moment, her pupils shrinking.

This time she realized—it was really watermelon seeds.

PS: Dear readers, some Dao sects may be struggling, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t powerful—leave a comment and vote for Salala.

(End of chapter)

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