Chapter 25: Dark Arts

“Dad, close the door first.”

After confirming Deng Hu was dead, Xu Jin gasped and shouted to his father, Xu Dajiang.

This gasping wasn’t from adrenaline—it was the result of inexperience, overexertion, every step and attack driven to full strength.

After speaking, Xu Jin, under the starlight, saw his father slumped on the ground, motionless; the thug lay sprawled, also utterly still.

Xu Jin was terrified.

Please don’t let his father have suffered a fatal wound in the chaos.

Many died needlessly on battlefields from stray bullets and arrows.

He rushed over in three bounding strides.

“Dad, what’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” Xu Jin panicked.

Xu Dajiang gasped heavily, glared at Xu Jin, “What could possibly happen to your old man? Look at you, you little brat—you’ve done a fine job!”

He tried to strike Xu Jin, but his hand wouldn’t obey.

Xu Jin tried to lift him up, but his father was like a pile of soft mud, impossible to raise.

“Let me catch my breath.”

Xu Jin first ran to shut the courtyard gate; before closing it, he peered out to confirm no one was inside or outside, then returned.

“Dad, are you exhausted or what? Should I get you something to drink?”

“Exhausted? Pfft. My legs and arms are weak—just let me catch my breath.”

“I’ve fought plenty of brawls in the fields with a hoe in hand, but this is my first time actually killing someone.” After speaking a few sentences, Xu Dajiang improved greatly and slowly rose to his feet.

Xu Jin looked over—the fleeing thug was already dead, his skull crushed outright by Xu Dajiang’s wild clubbing.

“You little brat, look what you’ve done—think fast about how to cover this up,” Xu Dajiang panted.

“Got it!”

Xu Jin thought for a moment, then together with his father moved the five corpses into the house one by one.

Then they searched each corpse thoroughly.

They were dead.

Their silver—why not take it?

The haul was modest: each of the four thugs carried four or five taels; Scar had slightly more, under ten taels; total from the four was just over twenty taels.

Deng Hu’s silver wasn’t much either—besides the forty-eight taels Xu Dajiang had repaid him, there were another dozen or so, totaling over sixty taels.

Xu Jin had considered leaving it, but Deng Hu had screamed he wanted two hundred taels for his life.

Where had this bastard hidden his silver?

Xu Jin searched the house at top speed—found only a stack of IOUs, nothing else.

Could it be hidden in a secret compartment?

Xu Jin immediately dismissed the idea.

The inner room had two bedrooms: one held only one quilt, the other had five or six tossed about—clearly, these men had slept together indiscriminately.

If the silver were hidden inside, Deng Hu would never feel safe with such free access.

He glanced at Deng Hu’s corpse and began searching again.

Less than a minute later—he found it.

Sewn into Deng Hu’s inner robe was an inconspicuous pocket; inside, a small oil-paper packet.

In the next instant, Xu Jin’s eyes lit up.

Two silver notes from Tianyang Bank, each worth one hundred taels.

“Huh?”

Inside the oil-paper packet was another sheet of paper, covered in dense, tiny script—but the light was too dim to make out the words.

Xu Jin didn’t care—he stuffed the oil-paper packet back into his robe.

“You little brat, are you so greedy you’d risk your life? We need to leave now!”

His father, Xu Dajiang, was already frantic.

This place was certainly no place to linger—but how to cover their tracks?

Xu Jin had noticed lamp oil and wine inside the room earlier.

He quickly dismissed the idea of setting fire.

Fire could destroy the bodies, but it would immediately expose the thugs’ deaths.

Then the authorities—or even the Tianhe Gang behind them—would intervene immediately and launch a full investigation.

But if the authorities did track them down later…

While pondering, Xu Jin suddenly let out a bitter laugh.

In this world, the government’s clearance rate for murder cases didn’t even reach a fraction of what he’d known in his past life.

Why should he worry?

But major clues still had to be erased.

Fingerprints? No need to worry about those.

Of course, there might be supernatural methods—after all, Xu Jin himself had cultivated Star Art.

If such methods existed, he couldn’t stop them.

The Dao Academy’s Star Martial Arts curriculum on tracking focused entirely on qi trails and interpreting subtle clues—it never mentioned Star Art.

Thinking it over, Xu Jin drew several buckets of water from the courtyard well, washed the blood off himself, then fetched half a bucket of human waste from the latrine, mixed it with water, and poured it over the thugs’ corpses.

The stench immediately rose!

Now, even the most skilled qi-tracking techniques would be severely weakened—or useless.

He then sprinkled the thugs’ leftover wine over himself to mask the smell of blood.

Next, Xu Jin told his father to leave first; he himself barred the courtyard gate with the bolt, then climbed over the wall.

As he climbed, Xu Jin glanced at the courtyard across several storage sheds.

No light. No movement.

But earlier, when he’d passed by, the gate had been open. With Deng Hu’s desperate cries so loud, they must have heard.

After thinking, Xu Jin sighed and jumped down from the wall.

Maybe he was being overly merciful.

But to wipe out the neighbors too, just to erase every trace—he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He wasn’t that heartless.

The green-robed figure on the rooftop had watched every pause Xu Jin made on the wall.

“He still has some moral limits. Truly a treasure. Let’s watch further.” The figure moved, trailing slowly behind, vanishing completely into the darkness—unseen by anyone.

The father and son hurried home through the night; perhaps the night’s intensity had been too much—Xu Dajiang stumbled constantly along the way, needing Xu Jin to support him.

Fortunately, the journey went smoothly—aside from a few stray dogs, they reached home without incident.

After bolting the door, Xu Dajiang and Xu Jin both slumped against it, gasping heavily.

It took a long while before they finally calmed.

Xu Jin boiled water, then threw all his and his father’s inner and outer clothes, including socks and shoes, into the stove to burn, took a hot bath, changed into clean old clothes—and finally exhaled.

The green-robed figure on the roof of Xu Jin’s childhood home nodded as he watched Xu Jin’s actions: “Cautious enough. Many oversights remain, but for a first time, this is decent.”

All possible tracking traces had been erased.

Now, it was just a matter of when the thugs’ deaths would be discovered.

Time was the best eraser.

The later the discovery, the less likely they’d be traced.

After all that exertion, the two were starving—Xu Jin brought out the two catties of old wine, peanuts, and the family’s hard wheat cakes from earlier; they ate, one bite of cake, one bite of peanuts, then a sip of wine.

As they ate, Xu Jin explained to his father the reason he’d acted.

Xu Dajiang broke into a cold sweat, his eyes bloodshot, ready to devour someone alive!

Luckily, Xu Jin had overheard—otherwise, tonight, father and son would have been slaughtered by these thugs.

Little Jiang Er might have suffered unspeakable torment afterward!

Now enraged, Xu Dajiang muttered they’d stabbed too few times!

Letting those thugs die too quickly!

This old man, though seeming timid, had the courage to act after killing tonight—even if his legs trembled.

And once he learned someone threatened his children, he became a furious lion.

After the wheat cakes and a few sips of wine, Xu Dajiang seemed to have made a decision, firm: “Jin’er, get up at the fourth watch tomorrow and return to the Dao Academy early.”

You didn’t spend the night at home.”

Remember—if anything comes out, this was my doing, nothing to do with you.”

You knew nothing about this!”

Understand?”

“Dad!”

Before he could finish, Xu Jin raised his wine bowl and clinked it with his father’s—he’d rarely drunk before, but after killing, this old wine tasted uniquely sharp and satisfying.

“Dad, if they trace us, neither of us will escape.”

Don’t worry—no one will ever know it was us.”

They won’t find anything!” Xu Jin said.

“But before we entered Deng Hu’s house last evening, we passed a man in the alley—he looked us over twice.” Xu Dajiang said anxiously.

“He doesn’t know us.”

“Besides, several families live in Cangfang Alley—not just Deng Hu’s.” Xu Jin reassured him.

It was unavoidable.

Xu Jin and Xu Dajiang had intended today to repay their debt.

Once the debt was settled, they’d be free of burdens—one to focus on cultivation, the other to earn money and save for their son’s wedding fund.

Who would have thought that after repaying the debt, these ruffians still meant to slaughter his entire family and seize Jiang Er?

In the end, Xu Jin told Xu Dajiang to avoid appearing in Juncheng for now, and whenever he went out, wear a straw hat and trim his beard—likely, even if the man stood face to face with him, he wouldn’t recognize Xu Dajiang.

Xu Jin himself must also stay out of sight.

The two had agreed on this; after drinking nearly half a catty of old liquor, Xu Dajiang had fallen into a deep sleep. After tucking him in, Xu Jin tried to sleep but couldn’t.

He went out to the courtyard to make up for his evening practice.

The Yin Hui Form, alternating with the Five-Dou Killing Fist.

Whether it was an illusion or not, after killing someone yesterday, Xu Jin’s Five-Dou Killing Fist felt unusually fluid, with a faint aura of killing intent seeping through.

It was too late—he didn’t use the remaining sliver of starlight on the Can Dou Platform, storing it for now.

After three and a half rounds of Yin Hui Form, he felt mentally drained and weary—his soul-force had been exhausted.

Only then did he go to sleep.

“Add diligence and hard work—and why do I like this boy more and more?” The green-clad man who had spent the night exposed to the wind on the roof watched Xu Jin sleep, silently glanced at his badge, then slipped away, heading straight for Juncheng.

Since someone likes impersonating demons, today they’ll meet the real thing!

Before dawn, his biological clock—formed over these three months—woke him on time.

He drank some water, tidied himself, and waited quietly for the dawn glow to appear, ready to begin his morning practice.

While waiting, he suddenly remembered the paper beneath the silver note he’d received last night, and pulled it out to examine it closely.

After only a few glances, cold sweat broke out on Xu Jin’s forehead.

Blood-Induced Star Casting Technique!

A demonic art!

A demon’s technique!

(End of Chapter)