Volume One, Chapter 16: Eliminating the Menace of Zhang Yuanwai

Liu Feng cracked his whip and set off, disappearing into the night within a few breaths, leaving only the sound of the ox’s breathing behind.

The two sisters watched the direction Liu Feng had taken, a wave of disappointment washing over them. Tonight, it would be just the two of them again.

“Sister, when will our husband ravage us, Qing’er...?”

“Qing’er, you little minx, just wait until husband returns—I’ll make you serve him all by yourself.”

“Don’t... don’t... sister, me alone?”

Qing’er blushed deeply, shaking her head at the thought of the ox-like Liu Feng.

She was both eager and fearful.

But soon, the sisters grew worried again.

Over ten men had come today, all fierce and menacing.

“Sister, husband is going alone? Could it be dangerous?”

Mu Wansheng was deeply concerned; how could she let her husband face danger alone?

“It’s fine. If husband dares to go, he must have his reasons. We just need to take care of things at home.”

Hearing her sister’s words, Mu Wansheng felt a measure of relief, yet her gaze remained fixed on the direction Liu Feng had departed.

Several hours later, Liu Feng arrived.

The Zhang Estate was one of the largest mansions in the county town.

The grounds were vast, and the house was ornately decorated in resplendent gold and jade—a sight unmistakable to any onlooker.

Liu Feng did not enter through the main gate; he did not fight unprepared battles.

At this moment, he crept slowly onto the rooftop, lifting the tiles to observe the inside.

Liu Feng’s thoughts were not about murder or arson—he was investigating where the Zhang family’s silver was headed.

According to what he knew, the local gambling house in the county was partly owned by Zhang.

Each day at dawn, the day’s silver would be delivered there.

The most important news he heard while visiting his father-in-law was that the Northern Barbarians had already reached the outskirts, making the silver more precious than anything else.

So this time, he planned to pull off a major heist.

Having lain in ambush, he had not acted yet because he was waiting for the silver to appear.

Inside the Zhang estate, there were about thirty guards—paid retainers who had food and lodging covered and were regularly taken to the Pleasure House for entertainment.

This was why the guards were so loyal and willing to risk their lives.

Liu Feng’s actions were not those of a common bandit.

The gambling house had ruined countless people; he was purging a menace for the sake of the people.

Robbing the rich to aid the poor.

Liu Feng waited and, at midnight, Zhang appeared.

His round belly protruded prominently as he was flanked by several guards.

The head guard of the Zhang estate was Old Yang San, who was missing a finger and was known as Third Master among the guards.

Seeing Zhang’s appearance, he hurried over to whisper in his ear.

Liu Feng guessed they were reporting that Scar and the others had not returned.

“Useless fools. I feed them for nothing; they can’t even handle one Liu Feng,” Zhang barked loudly.

Liu Feng’s smile turned sly; the heavy crossbow in his hand was already loaded, the arrow aimed squarely at Zhang’s bucket-like neck.

As a former mercenary, Liu Feng knew the perfect moment to strike.

Yet, after aiming, he did not rush.

Though unafraid of the thugs before him, the leader, Third Master, had emerged from the carnage of the battlefield.

His combat skills were formidable.

Of course, Liu Feng was confident, but prudence was better.

“Whoosh...”

With a sharp whistling sound, the arrow left the bowstring.

Like a black venomous serpent, it flicked its tongue in the night sky.

In the blink of an eye, Zhang’s neck was pierced through.

“Save... me...”

Blood gushed from his throat as he clutched it, trying to scream but no sound came out.

His eyes widened, body involuntarily falling backward.

As he collapsed, he saw a shadow on the rooftop.

“Assassin...!”

Third Master dived beneath a table.

Being a trained fighter, a mere glance told him Zhang was dead.

He thought hiding under the table would keep him safe, but he miscalculated.

Before he could react, an arrow flew in.

With great force, it pierced through the table and embedded itself in his shoulder.

“Who’s there? A hidden arrow attack?”

But he quickly realized that as far as he knew, no arrow in Da Li could pierce a table.

Could it be the Northern Barbarians?

He dismissed the thought.

Third Master slowly moved his body.

The arrow had penetrated his shoulder half an inch deep.

Enduring the pain, he pulled the arrow out.

By now, Third Master had lost hope.

Even in an open fight, he stood no chance.

Since the master was dead, fleeing would not violate the codes of the underworld.

With this thought, he looked toward the window, planning to escape.

But just as he was about to flee, a sound came from the rooftop.

A chill ran down Third Master’s spine; he froze in place.

Fear gripped him, as if a demon from hell was staring him down.

True, soul-deep terror of death made him unable to move.

Third Master slowly reached for his waist.

If he did not fight back now, his fate would follow Zhang’s.

Suddenly, he turned sharply, slashing his blade upward.

Yet, he was too slow.

In the moonlight, a cold glint appeared before his eyes.

With a soft sound, his arm was severed.

Before he could react, something grazed his neck.

Blood flowed uncontrollably.

He knew he was beyond saving.

As his body fell, he saw the killer clearly—the long blade was the very one Scar had wielded.

Indeed, in the end, he died by this man’s hand.

The Zhang estate had once bustled with activity—maids and servants moving to and fro.

But witnessing this sudden scene, everyone was dumbfounded.

After a moment, someone reacted first, followed by all others.

They began frantically grabbing valuables from the Zhang household.

They even fought violently over them.

The scene descended into chaos, and no one noticed the black figure watching them all from the shadows.

“Whoosh...”

Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Liu Feng darted through the crowd.

Each time he passed near a thug, a life was taken.

His movements were fluid and unhesitating, like a dance.

Beneath the graceful motions gleamed a bloodied long blade.

Before long, he had knocked down more than a dozen thugs.

The third strongest guard among those carrying Zhang’s body spotted Liu Feng.

He turned to the remaining guards and ordered, “Catch him—dead or alive!”

The other guards snapped to attention, brandishing long blades as they searched among the fleeing maids and servants for the black-clad man.

Liu Feng was fast.

Leaping aside from a gambling table, he grabbed a young servant who was stuffing silver into his bosom.

“At a time like this,”

the servant sneered coldly at Liu Feng.

“Does it help to catch me?”

He carefully laid down the master’s corpse, then leisurely drew two brass knuckles from his waist.

Small in appearance, but capable of shattering bones with a single blow.

“Brothers, attack! Whoever takes him down gets one hundred taels of silver.”

A generous reward inspires brave men; one hundred taels was worth risking their lives for.