I want Sun Chi to pay for his crimes with his own blood.

Chapter 059: I Want Sun Chi to Pay in Blood

The atmosphere instantly froze, murderous intent rising sharply in the air. Mu Zhijin and Banxia, without even exchanging words, simultaneously shielded Old Madam Lin and that wretched Zao Qiang behind them. Old Madam Lin was their purpose for coming to Ping City—nothing could be allowed to happen to her. As for Zao Qiang, he was the necessary sacrifice to secure Old Madam Lin; he too must remain unharmed.

A silent exchange of glances passed between the two.

Mu Zhijin: I’ll cover you in a moment. Take them and leave first.

Banxia: No, your internal injuries haven’t healed. I’ll cover you—you go first.

Mu Zhijin: That’s an order!

Banxia: You’re not one of the masters I take orders from!

Mu Zhijin: …This attack on us is just the first step. The next will be against your master, Fang Rulai. If you’re not there, and I can’t be in two places at once, what will happen to your master? Are you sure you shouldn’t go back and take precautions?

Banxia: Fine, I’ll go. Give me just the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, and I’ll hide where they’ll never find us. After that, you must leave immediately.

Mu Zhijin nodded slightly, stepped forward, and declared, “So you’re Zao Qiang’s accomplices? Here to rescue him? Then you’ll have to see if my sword agrees first!”

Without waiting for a reply, he launched himself forward, taking the offensive.

At the same moment, Banxia gathered his inner strength and, with one person under each arm, fled in the opposite direction.

“Hmph, petty tricks!” The leader among the cloaked figures snorted coldly, waving his hand. “First squad, kill. Second squad, pursue!”

The dozen or so cloaked figures split in two: one group surrounded Mu Zhijin, while the other leaped off in pursuit of Banxia.

Mu Zhijin’s sword continued its attack, but with his other hand he drew something from his chest—a sunflower, bright and bold.

His opponent sneered, “What, you’re so sure of defeat you’ve brought your own funeral flowers?”

Without a word, Mu Zhijin flung the sunflower.

In the cold moonlight, the sunflower’s stalks glinted like razor-sharp blades, exuding a chilling aura as they hurtled toward the backs of Banxia’s pursuers.

The last word of the mocking cloaked man stuck in his throat. He tried to warn his companions, but somehow not a sound emerged.

At such speed, ordinary sunflowers would have lost their petals, but these, launched by Mu Zhijin, remained vibrant and intact, shining even more brilliantly in the moonlight.

These were no ordinary sunflowers—they were killing tools, as finely crafted as their chain-darts.

The leader was the first to react. With a shout of “Watch out!” he swung his chain-dart, knocking one sunflower to the ground with a metallic clang.

The others hurried to help, but their reactions were slower, and some sunflowers slipped through.

Those chasing Banxia sensed the danger and turned just in time to dodge the flying sunflowers. By the time they regained their focus, Banxia had already fled far into the distance.

“After him!” the leader roared, his eyes red with fury. With a twirl of his chain-dart, he charged at Mu Zhijin. “Brothers, deal with this one first.”

The remaining cloaked figures swarmed forward, their chain-darts weaving a dense net, trapping Mu Zhijin at its center.

Mu Zhijin was forced to use every ounce of his skill to defend himself—there was no chance to aid Banxia now. All he could do was hope Banxia’s lightness skills were as good as he claimed.

Indeed, Banxia’s qinggong was exceptional. He darted through the desolate outskirts, twisting and turning around the large tiled houses of scattered villages. Thanks to the time Mu Zhijin had bought him, Banxia easily outpaced his pursuers and vanished from their sight.

Just as he was looking for a household to hide Old Madam Lin and Zao Qiang, Banxia was forced to halt.

Around the corner ahead, a figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat appeared. Behind him came Lu Laoba, followed by dozens of men in black, surging toward Banxia.

Banxia immediately retreated, pressing himself into a narrow corner, forcing the black-clad men to half-surround their trio.

Banxia stood ready—not because of the menacing encirclement, but because of the wide-brimmed hat and Lu Laoba. He remembered both: one, the hat-wearer, had manipulated public opinion at the Zhao family gates that morning to bar Fang Rulai and Zhu Xishi from entering; the other, Lu Laoba, was a man Banxia’s master had once investigated—an agent Old Madam Lin had secretly bribed in advance to leak information.

These two should have been on opposing sides. Why were they now together? Banxia instinctively looked to Old Madam Lin. Surely she knew why.

Old Madam Lin jabbed her cane at Lu Laoba. “Lu Laoba, you dare betray me?”

Lu Laoba shrugged. “Come now, madam, let’s be fair. When have I ever obeyed you? Betrayal implies loyalty in the first place.”

“You—!” Old Madam Lin was left speechless. She only now remembered: all contact with Lu Laoba had been through a trusted aide. It was entirely possible he’d never known she was the real one behind the scenes.

“Ah, so it was your people who paid me to leak information,” Lu Laoba said, his once-honest face now grinning roguishly. “In that case, you should understand. If you can buy me, so can others. It’s all about the money—no need to take it personally, madam.”

Old Madam Lin trembled with fury. “Very well, Lu Laoba! I’ll pay you twice what they offered—just tell me who your employer is!”

Lu Laoba spread his hands. “Too late. I’ve made enough this year and am off to Shengjing to enjoy my fortune. Goodbye, madam.”

He turned to leave toward the city gate. “Well, rich masters, here I come—”

A sharp arrow whistled through the air, striking Lu Laoba squarely in the head before he could finish. He fell lifeless to the ground.

The arrow had flown from the hand of a black-clad man.

Old Madam Lin started in fright but soon spat, “Serves you right!”

“Does that satisfy you, madam?” The wide-brimmed man strode over, extracting the silver and banknotes from Lu Laoba’s pockets and stowing them away. “But if I were you, I’d be more worried about my own situation.”

He waved his arm, and the dozens of black-clad men drew their bows in unison, all aiming at Banxia and his group.

Banxia stepped in front of Old Madam Lin—if it came to a fight, she would only die after he fell.

But Old Madam Lin was unmoved. With a tap of her cane on Banxia’s arm, she indicated: step aside.

Banxia yielded. Old Madam Lin, smoothing her snowy hair, had already regained the calm, inscrutable demeanor of the Zhao family matriarch.

“And who are you, sir? For whom do you act?” Raising her cane, she pointed at the wide-brimmed man. “I’ll give you ten times their price. Serve me instead!”

The wide-brimmed man answered with a peal of mocking laughter. “Madam, do you realize that if tonight succeeds, your entire Zhao family will be mine? Ten times their price? Compared to the Zhao family, that’s nothing at all.”

“But have you considered that ten times the price is real silver, while without my explicit permission, even if you take the Zhao family, all you’ll hold is an empty shell?” Old Madam Lin’s confidence was unshaken. The Zhao family’s salt trade network was coveted by many, but its secrets had never been leaked, for only the head of the family possessed the token passed down through generations. With it, the network would recognize you; without it, the Zhao family was just a declining merchant house.

The wide-brimmed man was unmoved. “You mean your family token? If you’d offered it a few days ago, I might have considered. But now, it’s worthless. From today, your Zhao family’s salt route will become history. Your precious network? Only you still value it. With your family’s destruction, no one will ever speak of it again.”

Old Madam Lin’s face changed. “Impossible!” The salt routes had always been stable—the basis of people’s lives. To change them would bring chaos, perhaps even revolution. Remembering recent rumors about the imperial court, she shuddered. “Whose man are you?”

She had assumed these were just Zao Qiang’s accomplices, but these two groups of killers, so well-trained, so deadly, were far superior to Zao Qiang’s lot. Even with money, no one in a small city like Ping could hire so many master assassins at once.

“You’re with Sun Chi!” she declared, not waiting for a response, her tone full of certainty.

Who else could disregard the salt route, dare to covet the Zhao family, and dispatch two squads to intercept her at night except someone from the imperial court?

The wide-brimmed man’s laughter faded. “Madam, you know too much. So I must—kill!”

The order rang out, and the arrows followed with merciless speed.

At the very instant the word “kill” was uttered, dozens of arrows shot through the dawn-lit sky, each one trailing death as they hurtled toward the three.

“Madam, inside!” Banxia spun, smashed open the wall behind them with his palm, and shoved Old Madam Lin through the hole he’d made. He kicked Zao Qiang, who was still immobilized by acupoint sealing, into the opening, then dove in himself.

The deadly arrows arrived just as they vanished. Banxia parried with his sword, then struck the wall above the hole, bringing down the house in a shower of rubble that blocked their pursuers.

He didn’t dare pause—they had to escape before the collapsing roof buried them alive.

But as he turned, he froze.

Before him, Old Madam Lin, the first through the breach, was pulling a dagger from her own abdomen. Beside her, Zao Qiang was already lying in a pool of blood.

“Madam, you…” Banxia’s gaze fell on the snapped cane, realizing the dagger had been hidden within. He could understand her killing Zao Qiang—but why, having taken revenge, would she take her own life?

There was no trace of pain on Old Madam Lin’s face. She forced herself to lift the dagger with both hands, offering it to Banxia. “This is the salt route token, coveted by both the underworld and the righteous! I trust the master, and I trust you. Take it! Without me to slow you down, I believe you’ll escape more easily. Please, brave one, deliver my final words to the master—”

“I want Sun Chi to pay in blood!”

On the Difficulty of Writing Transitional Chapters and Opening Outlines: Similarities and Differences

Difference: The pain of one lies at the beginning, the pain of the other lies in the process.

Similarity: Both are in the category of ‘nozuonodie.’

Suggested background music: Born to Wander! (Imagine Wang Toutiao’s husky singing here.)

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