Chapter 17: Throwing an Egg Against a Rock

No one saw how he moved, but Xie Jinhuan, standing beside the carriage, suddenly surged forward, crossing three zhang in an instant!

Lin Wanyi was still frantically thinking what to do when her peripheral vision caught a dark blur streaking past Fu Dongping’s side, leaving a thread of cold light.

By the time she made sense of it, the figure had already stopped beside the stable, left hand gripping the Zhenglun Sword upside down, ink-green blade dripping blood beads.

Fu Dongping was no novice, but his chopping sword had barely cleared its scabbard two inches, still in the stance of a forward step and draw, when his entire body froze in place.

Drip… drip… drip…

Blood spattered, and a pool of crimson slowly spread across the ground!

The courtyard fell silent. The market supervisor running over to investigate, along with Lin Wanyi and Jia Zheng, all stood rooted, eyes wide with confusion.

After a brief pause, Xie Jinhuan spun his left hand, weaving a flurry of sword flowers:

Swish-swish-swish~

Clang—

The three-foot blue blade vanished back into its scabbard in a blink!

“You can’t even draw your blade—how dare you show your face in the Jianghu?”

Thud~

Fu Dongping, both hands still gripping his chopping sword, staggered forward, then collapsed to his knees, head bowed—his left ribcage gushed blood like a fountain, his waist and abdomen cleanly severed by a single strike, his expression utterly bewildered.

He tried to struggle up, clutching his sword, but his waist and abdomen were shredded—he had no strength left. He barely managed to prop himself up with the blade before convulsing and collapsing again onto the ground.

Jia Zheng, who had been on high alert, had initially assumed this handsome young lord was just a kept lover hired by the master; now, seeing the assassin vanish in an instant, his eyes widened in shock—he thought:

What the hell just happened?

He’s dead… already?

Only now did Lin Wanyi realize the menacing assassin was gone—seeing the fluid, effortless sheathing motion, her heart skipped a beat, and she murmured inwardly:

So elegant!

No wonder among the five major schools, martial artists are the weakest, and among martial artists, swordsmen are the least effective—yet young ladies and brides still adore swordsmen; when they show off like this, they utterly dwarf everyone else in the world.

With such terrifying sword speed and that effortless bearing, he’s likely at the fourth-rank martial artist level.

Even without Dragon Blood Pill to fortify his body, he’s this terrifying—what if he had fortified it? He’d be straight into third rank…

Damn, a third-rank martial artist at twenty? If the Elixir King found out, he’d beg on his knees for Xie Jinhuan to marry his daughter…

Wait— if he’s this strong, why did I set a three-year deadline?

Three months would be enough…

Lin Wanyi realized she had grossly underestimated the Double-Headed Dragon’s strength and set the deadline far too long—she was filled with deep regret!

Xie Jinhuan didn’t waste time. He sheathed his sword, knelt beside Fu Dongping, and began searching his body:

“Who sent you?!”

Fu Dongping lay on the ground, his body twitching uncontrollably, unable to rise. Facing Xie Jinhuan’s question, he clung to his last shred of defiance, gritting his teeth:

“Jianghu rules—I can’t say… ah—”

A scream tore through the courtyard.

Xie Jinhuan gripped the Tian Gang Iron Club, shoved it into Fu Dongping’s abdominal wound, and ripped out his intestines, holding them up before his face:

“In the Jianghu, even death deserves dignity. I’m no righteous hero—if you say another word, I’ll cut off your cock and stuff it in your mouth so you can die famous. Are you going to talk?”

?

Jia Zheng had been about to step forward to help, but the sheer brutality of this Jianghu demon’s actions froze him in place—he recoiled, eyes wide with horror.

Lin Wanyi snapped back to awareness; even as a member of the Cult of Witchcraft, she quickly turned her head away, thinking—this guy is supposed to be a military weapons expert?!

Fu Dongping had killed countless men, but he never imagined this seemingly upright son of the County Magistrate would be so cruel—and show no emotion, as if it were routine.

Perhaps sensing this madman truly would carry out such demonic acts, Fu Dongping’s defiance shattered. He spat out a mouthful of blood and replied:

“It was… a mysterious man. He said you raided his warehouse yesterday and caused him to lose his goods…”

“Me?”

Xie Jinhuan’s icy expression froze—he’d assumed this was a simple merchant feud, but now he realized: this assassin was targeting him!

Are these bandits insane?

I killed Chen Yuan and two other toughs in a blink—today they send this weakling to retaliate?

Do they even know what happened in the warehouse…

If they don’t know, how did they know my location?

I only got out of prison last night…

Xie Jinhuan’s mind was full of questions—he wanted to press further, but he’d assumed this was just a petty thief targeting Lin Wanyi, and he’d struck too hard, leaving no time for interrogation.

Fu Dongping’s waist and abdomen were shredded, his intestines torn out—he had no chance. After a few more spasms, he went still.

Xie Jinhuan could only quickly search his body.

But apart from three hundred taels of silver, Fu Dongping carried nothing but an empty black vial.

Xie Jinhuan held up the black vial, saw it was meant for poison, and turned back:

“No antidote? What now?”

Lin Wanyi was a disciple of the Poison Cult—she could metabolize toxins herself; poisoning her was like throwing a meat bun to a dog.

But in broad daylight, she couldn’t reveal her true nature. She leaned against the carriage, face flushed, sweat rolling down her forehead:

“It’s fine—I have my own way to neutralize it. Jia Zheng, go summon the constables. Xie Jinhuan, take me back to the clinic.”

Jia Zheng dared not delay—he sprinted off to call the officers.

Xie Jinhuan tossed the empty black vial aside, pocketed the unexpected windfall, and returned to Lin Wanyi’s side.

Since the carriage was coated in poison powder and couldn’t be driven, he lifted her into his arms, seized another carriage at random, and headed toward the Lin family clinic:

“Will we make it in time? Should we find a clinic nearby?”

Lin Wanyi, cradled in his arms, flushed crimson—but now wasn’t the time for propriety:

“I’m a Poison Cult disciple—I can metabolize the poison myself. Just find me a quiet place to rest.”

Xie Jinhuan said nothing more. He drove hard back the way they came, but soon realized they were near the Imperial Academy—he lived right there, so he turned straight into Wencheng Street.

Gurgling… gurgling…

Lin Wanyi’s blood vessels were blocked; faint bruises appeared on her arms, then vanished quickly. As she silently cultivated to suppress the poison, the carriage suddenly stopped—Xie Jinhuan carried her into Qingquan Alley and leapt over a courtyard wall.

Lin Wanyi blinked in surprise: “Why are you here? The clinic’s still ahead…”

“This is my home.”

“Ah?”

Xie Jinhuan leapt over Qingquan Alley’s gate and landed in the second courtyard, carrying Lin Wanyi into the main house’s inner chamber.

Lin Wanyi glanced around—she never expected this bachelor lived in such a priceless, top-tier mansion.

But she had no time to ask. Once placed on the bed, she propped herself up, sat cross-legged, closed her eyes, and began metabolizing the poison.

The poison was too potent—her entire body was soaked in sweat, her black hair stuck to her cheeks, her dewy face flushed like an apple, her robes clinging to her body, revealing her lush, graceful curves.

Xie Jinhuan had planned to leave, but feared she might die—he sat on the stool beside the bed, watching her complexion closely.

Huh… huh…

As Lin Wanyi settled into meditation, faint white mist rose from her coiled hair; though her supple skin occasionally darkened with bruises, they dissolved almost instantly.

Between her stacked palms, a faint emerald flame flickered, tendrils of black vapor seeping from her palms, merging into the flame, then vanishing completely.

Blood-Congealing Powder was deadly—it could solidify blood and cause full-body clots; ordinary people died instantly upon exposure. But Lin Wanyi’s demeanor suggested she could handle it easily.

After watching for a while, Xie Jinhuan quietly exhaled in relief, grabbed Meiqiu as a pillow, and began squeezing and kneading her to pass the time…

—

Meanwhile, at the County Magistrate’s Office.

Due to recent rumors of a “Superior-Class Demon,” all officers had been ordered to patrol outside—the office was unusually quiet.

Linghu Qingmo, dressed in a snow-white gown, her cold, beautiful face veiled, stood at the morgue entrance, frowning as the coroner examined the corpse. With no results after a night’s work, she drifted off, recalling her fight with Xie Jinhuan yesterday.

Though he’d touched her chest, she’d been too stunned to feel anything clearly—just strange.

Now she thought back, she regretted squeezing his chest in retaliation.

After all, when he squeezed her, she lost; when she squeezed a man’s chest—wasn’t she still the one who lost?

But she’d already squeezed it—might as well call it even…

…

The corpse on the slab had been pulled from the river, soaked for who-knew-how-long, then stored in the morgue for five or six days—it had swollen and rotted into a bloated giant, unrecognizable even in gender or face.

Liu Qingzhi, though used to corpses, was thoroughly nauseated—he stood behind, cotton stuffed in his nose, urging:

“Lady Linghu, you’re injured—go rest. Even if this corpse is linked to the bandits, we won’t find anything. The Elixir King’s elders already inspected it.”

Linghu Qingmo knew the Wang Fu elders had found nothing—but this corpse clearly connected to the bandits. Even without clues, she had to determine the cause of death. With no other leads, what if this was the breakthrough?

Linghu Qingmo couldn’t perform an autopsy. After watching a moment, she asked:

“Are you certain Xie Jinhuan’s father died in the line of duty?”

Liu Qingzhi shook his head, sighing: “The Chi Lin Guard personally verified it—no mistake. Xie’s a tragic soul—his mother died early, his father’s gone, now he’s alone. But at least he’s alive. His ancestors served the state with loyalty—he’ll get preferential treatment in official promotions.”

Linghu Qingmo hadn’t realized yesterday how hard Xie Jinhuan’s life had been—but now, his martial prowess made sense.

Any young man whose loved ones were slaughtered by demons would throw his life into training, vowing to exterminate every evil in the world!

As they spoke, footsteps suddenly echoed outside the office.

Tap-tap-tap…

Linghu Qingmo turned—Yang Dabiao burst in, beaming:

“Lady Linghu! Another death in Jinmen Street!”

??

Because his words were too joyful, the government office runners, the coroner, and even Lu Wu all turned their heads at once, their glances clearly saying—Are you mad?

There’s so much going on, and someone just died—why are you smiling?

Lu Wu’s face darkened: “Yang Dabiao, have you not woken up yet?”

“No no no.”

Yang Dabiao, primarily elated, stepped forward to explain:

“We’ve been searching for half a month for the bandit Fu Dongping—he was cut down right on the street, and the one who did it was my brother Xie Jin. He cut him open so satisfyingly, his guts were dragged out. That bastard deserves to rot on the street…”

Upon hearing the good news that the bandit had been slain, Lu Wu secretly exhaled in relief, then said:

“Isn’t Xie Jin under house arrest? How did he end up encountering Fu Dongping on Jinmen Street?”

“Er…”

Yang Dabiao looked slightly embarrassed and mumbled an excuse:

“He had a headache this morning, went to the Lin family clinic for treatment, maybe because he’s too handsome, he accompanied Doctor Lin on a stroll—and got targeted by assassins hired by the demon bandits as revenge…”

When Lu Wu heard it involved the demon bandits, his expression turned serious, and he walked out:

“Why didn’t you say so sooner? Is Xie Jin hurt?”

Yang Dabiao spread his hands: “Your Excellency Lu Wu, you’re overestimating Fu Dongping. Even you couldn’t withstand one blow—how could Fu Dongping have so much as brushed against Xie Jin’s robe?”

“… ”

Lu Wu thought that made sense, then said oddly:

“Did the demon bandits lose their minds? Hire a nobody like that to kill Xie Jin?”

“I suspect they meant to poison him, failed, then resorted to blades. Xie Jin is fine, but Doctor Lin seems to have ingested some poison…”

“Where are they?”

“Back at Qingquan Alley—I was just about to go check on them…”

“Liu Qing, bring the antidote.”

“Yes.”

…

——

I really am running out of drafts or2!

(End of Chapter)