"Fool!"
Pa!
Accompanied by a crisp slap, ng Haicheng fell to the ground.
Blood mixed with broken teeth fell, the dusty ground further sullied him, and the bandage seeping blood from his neck made him look exceptionally shabby.
Yet, ng Haicheng didn’t even dare to breathe heavily, hastily getting up to kneel on the ground, his forehead dotted with cold sweat.
This place was a sizable iron smithy.
Outside, the courtyard housed a row of dilapidated forges, the fire blazing red, with iron and coal slag scattered all over the ground, while a group of n, bare-chested, swung large and small hamrs in turn.
Ding! Ding! Clang! Clang!
Accompanied by the piercing sound of iron striking, sparks flew in all directions.
In the inner courtyard, a group of n, dressed in varied attire and covered in tattoos, either stood or squatted. Under the dim candlelight, each face looked ferocious.
The air was thick with the heavy scent of sweat, tobacco, and the sour odor of unwashed clothing, intertwined to nauseating effect.
Here was precisely the headquarters of the Iron Blade Gang.
Just above the steps of the inner courtyard, a man sat in a grand armchair.
This man was exceptionally tall and robust, with a scraggly beard, dark skin, and extrely rough features, making him appear quite fierce.
But he happened to be wearing a bright red robe, and quite improperly at that, with his right arm and shoulder exposed, a black tiger tattooed on his dark skin.
A little hat adorned his head, flowers pinned by his ear, making him look utterly mismatched.
This man was none other than Zheng Hebei, the Gang Leader of the Iron Blade Gang.
Originally an iron smith from Xianyang City, he was born with extraordinary strength, learned his family’s Tongbei Fist, and had a violent temperant, often gathering a group of troublemakers for frequent brawls.
Once, he offended soone, was jailed for several days, and then saw the light, kneeling to beco an apprentice under Zhou Pan, subsequently establishing the Iron Blade Gang.
The West City wasn’t nearly as prosperous as the East City, but his Iron Blade Gang bullied its way into nearly monopolizing the iron smith businesses in the city, bringing in considerable profits.
At this mont, Zheng Hebei sat bull-legged on the chair, fiddling with a walnut in his hand, looking coldly at the kneeling ng Haicheng.
"Do you know where you screwed up?"
ng Haicheng secretly lanted, "I shouldn’t have agreed to the death match."
He was an old hand in the pugilistic world, only realizing he had been duped after leaving.
His side had the numbers advantage, and he should have gone back on his word and sward Li Yan to death. Then who would even know this Li Hu’s son was in Xianyang?
Unfortunately, he was truly scared at the ti.
And then he rembered Li Yan’s eyes, still making his back cold to this day.
"Hmph!"
Zheng Hebei from above didn’t know what he was thinking and coldly said, "A fledgling just out in the pugilistic world toyed with you so easily, no wonder you’re in such a state."
"What is he anyway? Just hack him to death, and have soone take the bla. Now it’s beco a martial challenge in the Martial Arts circles, win or lose, it’s all on Master’s face!"
ng Haicheng was even more frightened now, gritting his teeth, "What if I take people now to skin him alive?"
"It’s too late!"
Zheng Hebei said calmly, "Nowadays, people on Xianyang Road are all talking about this. You going to kill him now would just be a joke, wouldn’t it?"
ng Haicheng was speechless, and his heart was even more bitter.
If he had known, he would have pretended not to know that lad from the start.
But Zheng Hebei above pondered for a while, then turned his head to the side, his tone becoming much gentler, "Master You, I’ve heard that young lad is with a Daoist from the Mystical Sect. Do you know what they are planning to do?"
"It’s nothing more than summoning gods."
The speaker was a middle-aged man.
His appearance and accent were completely different from those of the Guanzhong people, featuring characteristics of Jiang Zuo, wearing a black robe, with disheveled hair and Eight Characters mustache.
What was more strange was his forehead, painted with vermillion in a Taiji symbol.
This man was known as You Laosi, a magician from Jiang Zuo, skilled in the art of the nightmare curse, evading everywhere for reasons unknown offense to soone.
After Zheng Hebei found out, he secretly sheltered him.
Over the years, several of his opponents had died abnormal deaths, acts committed by this You Laosi, whom Zheng Hebei heavily relied upon.
The magician You Laosi gently stroked his beard, sneering, "The Daoist is called Wang Daoxuan, with average skills, rely wishing to summon a Yin God to protect them for so risky tasks."
"To summon the Yin God, they will inevitably go to the Chaotic Burial Mound, likely tomorrow night."
"And the Chaotic Burial Mound is the territory of those westbound beggars. The gang leader should send soone to make so trouble during the ritual. They won’t escape their death."
"By then, with everyone dead, what’s the point of a competition?"
"Master You’s idea is excellent!"
Zheng Hebei pondered for a mont, "Lu Ergou, you go and rember to be polite. Those beggars are sowhat peculiar."
"Yes, big brother!"
A sharp-featured man stepped forward from the crowd.
"Wait a mont."
The magician You Laosi suddenly spoke, "If you go like this, you’re guaranteed not to see anyone, and might even lose your life. I’ll tell you how to do it..."
"Thank you, Master, for your guidance."
Lu Ergou carefully morized it, clasped his fists, and left.
...
The HQ of the Iron Blade Gang lay in East City, Xianyang.
After stepping out, the sharp-featured Han man, Lu Ergou, mounted a fast horse, passed through Changping Warehouse, took Xianyang’s northwest gate and left the city.
Compared to the southern Ancient Ferry, the northern gate was indeed much more desolate.
Amidst the autumn rain, a tall archway stood solitary in the open field.
Occasionally, there were so common folk trudging through the muddy official road, all residents from nearby villages.
Lu Ergou wore a bamboo hat, spurred his horse forward.
Approaching dusk, he neared a small mountain.
Or perhaps, it couldn’t quite be called a mountain.
The Guanzhong Plain was surrounded by mountains on all sides, be it the southern Qinling and Zhongnan, or the eastern Hua Mountain and Li Mountain, or the Liangshan mountains behind, all dwarfed the small hill ahead beyond comparison.
Yet, the notoriety here was in no way inferior.
Whether during war, famine, or plague, even during martial clashes, scores of unclaid bodies existed in the vast Xianyang City daily.
These corpses naturally couldn’t be discarded carelessly.
Even the executed criminals from the gallows would be buried by soone.
And this task was handed to the westbound Beggar Gang.
They didn’t bother with decent burials, typically wrapping the bodies sloppily in mats unless a kind soul donated a bit for thin coffin wood.
Fengshui didn’t matter, bodies were carelessly buried in the mountain.
This place was the Xianyang Burial Mound.
Over countless years, the mountain accumulated nurous unclaid, solitary graves, ssy old trees entrenched all over, ravens flying, with packs of wild dogs wandering.
In the autumn rain, dim and dark, like the Netherworld.
The ordinary citizens of Xianyang City didn’t dare co to this place.
Even the Iron Blade Gang’s Lu Ergou felt a twinge of fear seeing this scene. Unable to help spitting, he cursed inwardly at the pus-filled coward gang living in such a ghostly place...
Of course, he only dared to curse in his heart.
The Beggar Gang in Xianyang City was not to be trifled with.
Since the drought and plague years ago, after the Maitreya Sect’s rebellion, the Beggar Gang moved their lair into this mountain, remaining extrely elusive.
They claid it was to avoid military disasters, yet never moved back even in peaceful tis.
So suspected a hidden collusion with the Maitreya Sect, with even a martial captain secretly investigating and later leading troops to raid, hoping for a mark of rit.
However, nothing was ever found.
Gradually, people got used to the beggars’ lair atop the Chaotic Burial Mound.
Yet, in the pugilistic world, tales about these beggars multiplied.
Such as their rumored Magic Skill to srize souls, said to often conspire with the city’s smugglers to abduct won and children...
Like how they wielded snakes and scorpions, even supposedly commanding the wild dogs there...
A few bladesn who offended the Beggar Gang died mysteriously, gruesoly.
In short, these beggars were highly eccentric.
By this ti, approaching dusk, night already fallen, coupled with the autumn rain and mist, the light was indeed dim.
Lu Ergou, feeling unsettled, dismounted and lifted a lantern, cautiously proceeding, constantly glancing around, mindful of any surrounding movents.
Seeing the countless unclaid solitary graves around, even as a man who didn’t blink at three blades and six holes, he just felt his scalp tightening, hairs standing on end.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
As he stepped onto the mountain path, the barking of wild dogs rang out.
In the dark mist, pairs of blood-red eyes appeared.
Clang!
The man was startled, hurriedly drawing the blade from his waist.
The wild dog pack at the Chaotic Burial Mound was also a terrifying existence in the legends of Xianyang City.
Living off dead bodies, savage, reportedly even seen attacking wolf packs, a human al naturally wasn’t a problem.
Rembering Master You’s warnings, although deeply frightened inside, Lu Ergou hurriedly sheathed his blade and loudly declared, "Sharing the waters of one river, cherishing eternal youth, Lu Ergou is here to pay respects, hoping for everyone’s presence!"
As soon as he spoke, distant reprimands were heard.
Accompanied by the sound of animals running, and those red eyes vanished rapidly.
Lu Ergou felt a tremor inside, this Beggar Gang indeed could control wild dogs.
Soon, in the rainy mist erged a shadowy figure, unlit lantern in hand, hunching forward, deeply voiced, "Where might esteed guest hail from?"
"From the ancient capital of Qin."
"Are you aware of the weights and asures of the pugilistic world?"
"Counting four jin, twenty-three liang, five qian, four fen, nine li, and eight hao!"
"What are four fen, nine li, eight hao?"
"Four Seas, nine rivers, eight streams they are."
"Where is the fellow traveling getting wealth?"
"Dare not, just trying to earn a living with Master Zheng."
"Then co along."
After a round of pugilistic cryptic talk, generally clarifying the situation, the figure ahead finally lit a lantern, revealed himself as a ragged and scruffy old beggar.
Lu Ergou sighed in relief, quietly following behind.
Along the way, he constantly felt sothing staring at him from the darkness, but didn’t dare look around, convincing himself these beggars were truly peculiar.
Finally, after heading into the mountain, faint lights appeared in the distance...
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