Chapter 105: Niu Er

"Slow down!"

Someone was unwilling—this was Niu Er.

He shouted: "If this knife is truly famed for killing without drawing blood, how can chickens or ducks possibly test it?"

"After all, chicken and duck blood cannot be compared to human blood!"

"You!"

Seeing Niu Er's groundless obstinacy and sophistry, Yang Zhi's eyes blazed with fury.

He had lived in Bianjing for so many years—where had he ever seen a man as brazen as Niu Er?

"What? Isn't what Second Master I said the truth?"

Niu Er looked utterly reasonable, bluntly retorting.

"Second Master speaks truly—how can mere beasts compare to us, the lords of creation?"

Niu Er's two henchmen immediately rallied to their boss's defense.

"Pfft!"

Zhang Zhang Jie couldn't help laughing out loud.

It was hard on these two petty thugs—the phrase "lords of creation" was clearly something they'd dredged up from their limited vocabularies to flatter Niu Er.

And these two henchmen were also peculiar characters, masters of opportunism:

When Niu Er had first stood off against Yang Zhi, they'd remained silent, playing background props;

Now that Niu Er held the upper hand, they immediately stepped forward to cheer him on.

Zhang Zhang Jie could only think that even petty thugs had their own ways of surviving.

Niu Er, seeing someone still laughing, whirled around and glared at Zhang Zhang Jie, demanding:

"Kid, what are you laughing at?"

"What's so funny about what Second Master I said? Or do you have something to say?"

"If you can't come up with a single valid point, don't blame Second Master for not giving you face!"

As he spoke, Niu Er rolled up his sleeves, revealing two thick black arms, each as thick as Zhang Zhang Jie's two arms combined.

The two henchmen exchanged glances and each took a few steps forward, subtly surrounding Zhang Zhang Jie.

The two attendants exchanged a glance, then each took a few steps forward, subtly surrounding Zhang Zhang Jie.

Unfazed by Niu Er's threat, Zhang Zhang Jie:

He, Zhang Zhang Jie—even without considering other worlds—had already shed plenty of blood in the Water Margin world;

Niu Er's bluster meant nothing to him, no more than a spring breeze brushing his face.

With a swift motion, he unfurled his folding fan and lazily fanned himself, taunting:

"Since Second Master Niu is so eager to know whether this treasure blade truly kills without drawing blood,

then find someone willing to offer their life for the test—

strike once, then look at the blade's edge, and you'll know for sure."

One slash, then look at the blade—and you'll understand everything?

Niu Er's face twisted with difficulty.

He was merely a petty thug—where could he find someone willing to die for him?

Even the two henchmen behind him were nothing but drinking and eating companions.

Not to mention asking them to die—even a minor brawl that might cause injury would send them running faster than rabbits!

"Second Master Niu, go find someone!"

"Second Master Niu, why don't you try it yourself?"

"Second Master Niu, are you afraid you won't dare?"

Seeing Niu Er trapped between retreat and advance, the onlookers jeered.

Among them, former merchants who had been extorted by Niu Er, emboldened by their numbers, went all out in mockery.

Among them, the merchants previously exploited by Niu Er, emboldened by their numbers, grew especially eager, pouring out every bit of mockery they could muster.

Trapped and unable to back down, Niu Er stole a glance at his two henchmen, signaling them to step forward.

They didn't need to actually test the blade—just boldly retort and he'd be saved.

He didn't believe this pitiful-looking Yang Zhi would dare kill on the street!

Didn't they say: public opinion is iron, the law is a furnace?

Under the three-foot law, unless one belonged to the ruling class like his patron Gao Gao Yamen, everyone must submit meekly!

The two henchmen, receiving Niu Er's signal, simultaneously chose to play dead,

pretending not to notice Niu Er's desperate, twitching eyes.

A few meals of meat and wine a month, a few hundred copper coins—why risk their lives?

*These two scoundrels! *

Niu Er's fury boiled within him.

When eating and drinking, they'd thump their chests, swearing to die for brothers—

but when real trouble came, they only hid like ostriches!

Though he'd long known these were mere drinking companions, utterly unreliable,

seeing them retreat so swiftly still sent a surge of rage through him.

Giving them so much meat and wine was better than feeding dogs—dogs at least guard the house,

and when their master calls, they bark to bolster his voice!

"Hey! Second Master, are you impotent?"

Someone among the crowd, eager for more spectacle, mocked.

"Second Master, just admit defeat.

Let's both step back—everyone wins."

Others pretended to offer kind advice.

"Who says I, Niu Er, am weak? Who says I, Niu Er, will back down?"

Niu Er, his thoughts exposed, flushed with rage.

A tree lives by its bark; a man lives by his face!

If he backed down today, he'd never again be able to walk these streets.

Without the tributes from these merchants, how could he please Gao Gao Yamen?

Without Gao Gao Yamen's protection, wouldn't his enemies from these past years tear him apart alive?

Knowing that retreat meant utter ruin, Niu Er hardened his heart,

thrust his neck forward toward Yang Zhi, and taunted:

"Come on—use Second Master Niu's neck to test it!

See if your blade truly kills without drawing blood!"

Is your blade truly bloodless when it kills?

The crowd gasped in unison.

As the saying goes: the soft fear the hard, the hard fear the reckless, and the reckless fear those who don't care if they die.

Niu Er now had the look of a man who didn't care if he died!

Yet their desire to watch the spectacle grew even stronger:

Watching spectacles? One never complains of too much excitement—only too little.

Yang Zhi's face turned ashen. He longed to draw his blade and cut down this foolhardy Niu Er,

but he knew he couldn't afford a murder charge—he spoke through gritted teeth:

"I am a law-abiding citizen of the Great Song. My treasure blade does not stain itself lightly.

Since Niu Er refuses, I shall not sell it today."

Saying this, he sheathed the blade and hugged it to his chest, turning to leave.

*Heh! So much for noble lineage! *

Seeing Yang Zhi back down, Niu Er felt triumphant.

In that moment, he reveled in the pleasure of humiliating someone he'd once feared.

*But this Yang Zhi is such a coward—why not make a real example of him?

After all, men who once had status but now crumble so easily are hard to find. *

Niu Er's shifty eyes darted, and a plan formed in his mind.

He grabbed Yang Zhi's arm: "Hey! Did I say you could go?"

"Today, Second Master Niu is going to see whether your blade truly kills without drawing blood!"

Today, this Second Brother of mine is determined to see whether your blade truly kills without leaving a drop of blood!

Yang Zhi, already retreating several steps, trembled with rage.

In all these years, where had he ever endured such humiliation?

Had he not fallen from grace, such a vile wretch as Niu Er would have been crushed beneath a single finger!

"Second Master, let's just drop it, shall we?

This Brother Yang has suffered enough. As the ancients said: when you can spare someone, spare them."

This Brother Yang isn't easy either; as the ancients said, when you can spare someone, spare them!

At this moment, Zhang Zhang Jie spoke calmly to persuade.

Yang Zhi, hearing this, cast a grateful glance toward Zhang Zhang Jie:

Many had come to watch the spectacle, but only Zhang Zhang Jie was willing to stand up for him against Niu Er.

Having endured so much indifference during this time, he knew well the weight of Zhang Zhang Jie's loyalty.

Even though he had read much military strategy but little Confucian scripture,

he understood that Zhang Zhang Jie's silence was his duty, but his words of support were an act of kindness.

This favor, Yang Zhi must accept!

Yet Niu Er, determined to assert his dominance, tightened his grip on Yang Zhi even more:

"No way!

Today, I'll either see this sword kill without a drop of blood—or…"

Niu Er sneered at Yang Zhi as he spoke:

"Or you're selling fakes!

Your so-called ancestral treasure sword is nothing but a lie you invented to inflate its value!"

"You—!"

Enraged by Niu Er's slander of his ancestral sword, Yang Zhi's hair seemed to stand on end,

and the blue birthmark on his face darkened to crimson from the rush of blood.

"What 'you'? If you've got the guts, cut me down!

Let everyone see if your ancestral treasure sword truly kills without a drop of blood!"

Niu Er stretched his neck further toward Yang Zhi's blade, taunting him with smug confidence.

He deliberately emphasized the four words "ancestral treasure sword,"

as if certain Yang Zhi was a fraud and his sword a counterfeit.

His boldness stemmed from the fact that the Great Song had laws.

Not even a lowly Yang Zhi dared kill on the street—let alone his patron, Gao Gao Yamen.

If Gao Gao Yamen wanted someone dead, he had them bound and delivered to Kaifeng Prefecture.

Then a single note from the Grand Marshal's office would arrive,

and if the victim had even the slightest violation, he'd be publicly executed;

if he had no fault at all,

he'd die mysteriously in prison, with some excuse like illness.

In short: killing was acceptable, but not openly defying the Great Song's laws.

After all, some things weigh nothing until placed on the scale—then even a thousand catties won't be enough!

"I—"

On one side lay his ancestors' honor; on the other, his own inability to survive another murder case.

Yang Zhi was caught in an impossible dilemma.

Seeing Yang Zhi still hesitating, Niu Er added fuel to the fire, sneering:

"Ancestral treasure sword? I bet it's just rusted scrap metal!"

'Damn! This Niu Er really has no limits.'

Zhang Zhang Jie, who had been watching the whole thing as entertainment, was stunned by Niu Er's recklessness.

For Yang Zhi, proud of his lineage from the Yang military family,

you could look down on him—but never his ancestors.

Niu Er's words were a public declaration that Yang Zhi's ancestors were worthless.

And as the dragon has its inverted scale, those who touch it provoke its wrath!

"Aah! You've forced me to this!"

True to form, the next instant, cornered with no retreat left,

Yang Zhi exploded forward, drawing his ancestral sword with a sharp "shhh!"

and slashed with the martial skill he had honed since childhood.

Ssssh!

Among the onlookers, only Zhang Zhang Jie saw it clearly;

everyone else saw only a flash of silver glide across Niu Er's neck.

"Huh… hhh…"

The next moment, Niu Er, who had just been swaggering, let out a sound like a broken bellows.

Even as he raised his hands and clamped them desperately over his neck,

bright red blood poured relentlessly from between his fingers,

quickly pooling into a small puddle on the ground.

Zhang Zhang Jie, seeing the arterial spray, knew Yang Zhi's blade had severed Niu Er's carotid artery.

Even with his own profound internal Qi, he could do nothing—let alone with Great Song medicine.

Zhang Zhang Jie gave the three classic Bian Que responses: Can't be saved. Wait to die. Goodbye.

'So it's true… kills without a drop of blood…'

Niu Er's final gaze fixed on the sword in Yang Zhi's hand—still gleaming, spotless, untouched by blood.

His second thought was:

'How could a man who wears cowardice on his face have such courage?'

'How dare he kill on the street? How could he possibly dare?

Doesn't he fear the Great Song's law?'

Filled with fierce resentment and confusion, the petty thug Niu Er, who had long ruled these streets, closed his eyes forever.