Chapter 19: The Magistrate Who Cried

Xie Zhizhou’s blood boiled, his entire body blazing with the fire of vengeance.

He was determined to fight for his dignity and honor!

He summoned every ounce of strength and launched a full-force attack, unleashing his three deadly moves: Duoqing Fan, Youqing Fan, and Wuqing Fan.

But—

He had no fan!

His iron fan had just been shattered into flying shards by Song Luyuan.

The outcome was obvious.

Once again, Xie Zhizhou was knocked down by Song Luyuan.

This time, he fell face first, his thick lips pressed intimately against the yellow earth.

Pain.

It was unbearable.

He had lost utterly and completely!

Pain.

It was unbearable.

He had lost utterly and completely!

Life in the martial world was so hard.

An ordinary villager who transported timber had actually defeated him.

Xie Zhizhou pouted his mud-streaked thick lips and began to cry out in a roar:

“I’m done with the martial world! I’m done being county magistrate! Ahhh—
OBD……”

He had wanted to master both literary and martial arts, to become renowned far and wide.

But now, all that remained was the humiliating reality of “iron flying in the sky, man lying flat on the ground.”

“County Magistrate?”

Song Luyuan suddenly took interest and drew his wooden sword.

“Do you want one like mine?”

Xie Zhizhou immediately stopped crying, his eyes shining bright.

“I want it!”

This wooden sword could break his iron fan—stronger than even the divine weapons listed on the Wulin Weapon Ranking.

Song Luyuan lifted his chin slightly, his black hair fluttering, exuding the youthful vigor of a young man.

“Then be my follower and listen to me.”

Xie Zhizhou hesitated for a long moment but never took his eyes off the wooden sword in Song Luyuan’s hand.

He craved it too much!

“Alright, I agree! But I must make it clear beforehand, I won’t do anything unkind, untrustworthy, or against the code of honor.”

“No problem. Neither will I.”

Song Xianling peeled sugarcane and cut it into small pieces, placing them on a stone mill.

By manually turning the stone mill, he crushed the sugarcane to extract its juice.

After a few rotations, he felt utterly drained, his strength completely spent.

He slumped into a bamboo chair to rest for a moment, then washed his face, changed out of his sweat-soaked clothes, grabbed his money pouch, and headed toward Sanhu Village.

Upon entering the village, Song Xianling noticed an eerie silence—there wasn’t a single soul in sight.

This was abnormal.

Usually, the village would have at least a few people visible.

“Everyone, behave yourselves and stand in line!”

“Mommy, I’m scared!”

“Don’t be afraid, child.”

“Silence! Anyone who speaks out will be cut down!”

In front of the village granary, all the men, women, young, and old of Sanhu Village were gathered together.

Under the threat of a dozen large knives, the villagers were too frightened to even look up.

Sha Qiancheng held up a gleaming large knife and interrogated Chen Changgui:

“Is this everyone in the village?”

Chen Changgui, clutching his injured abdomen, nodded repeatedly with a forced smile.

“There are thirty-two people in total, count carefully. None are missing.”

Sha Qiancheng grandly pulled out two shining gold bars from his bosom, instantly drawing the villagers’ captivated gazes.

“Don’t be afraid. My brothers and I aren’t bad people. We, martial world folks, value honor above all. We’re only here to find someone. Whoever can help us find my big brother Liu will be handsomely rewarded with these two gold bars. I, Sha Qiancheng, swear on my head, I will not break my word.”

After speaking, Sha Qiancheng lifted a portrait of Liu Da and asked the villagers if anyone had seen him.

Everyone shrank their necks and shook their heads—no one had.

Sha Qiancheng’s smile faded immediately, replaced by a cold glare.

“That’s strange. All the information I gathered said my big brother Liu came this way with several subordinates and two dogs.”

“How could none of you villagers have seen him?”

Spitting on his knife, Sha Qiancheng wiped it with his sleeve, seemingly sharpening the blade further.

The villagers shrank back even more in fear.

“Why waste time talking? Kill one, and everyone will behave.”

One burly man grabbed Li Dalang, ready to slash his neck.

Li Chunhua panicked, grabbing her eldest son’s sleeve and crying out for him to stop.

“Stinky woman, you’re asking for death—”

“Heroes and gallants, it’s not that we don’t want to talk, we just really haven’t seen him.”

Chen Changgui bowed urgently, begging for mercy.

“There’s no reason to hide this. Even for these two gold bars, we want to tell you.”

“Enough! If I don’t get any information today, I’m killing someone to vent my anger.”

Sha Qiancheng said and grabbed a child to prepare to strike.

“Mom, save me!”

Fang Xiaoyuan cried out.

“Big brother, there’s still one more person!”

The knife-faced man spotted Song Xianling approaching.

Song Xianling stopped dead in his tracks at the scene.

Sha Qiancheng’s murderous intent intensified.

“I thought everyone was gathered here. How is there still one?”

“He’s not from our village.”

Chen Changgui spoke, and the villagers nodded in agreement.

“Where do you live?”

Sha Qiancheng pointed his knife at Song Xianling.

Song Xianling gestured ahead.

“That way. I came today to buy a donkey.”

Before Sha Qiancheng could respond, Song Xianling’s gaze fell on the gold bars in his hand.

“Who are you looking for? Maybe I’ve seen them.”

Sha Qiancheng snorted at his greed and tossed Liu Da’s portrait to Song Xianling.

After a careful look, Song Xianling shook his head regretfully.

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Yeah, he really hasn’t been here. None of us have seen him.”

A villager chimed in.

Impatient, Sha Qiancheng pressed the knife to Song Xianling’s neck.

“I said, if there’s no clue, someone will die to ease the tension.”

“Shut up! Then it’ll be you.”

“You can’t kill me.”

Song Xianling motioned for Sha Qiancheng to step aside to speak privately.

Sha Qiancheng saw the calm, composed demeanor of Song Xianling and suspected he might have some status.

For wandering martial artists, the most important rule is to never kill the wrong person.

So, he reluctantly listened.

“Do you know Li Xinzhi?”

Sha Qiancheng’s heart skipped a beat.

“Who are you? How do you know him?”

“Xinzhi is my friend. He went missing while searching for Liu Da. I suspect there’s a Dark Faction hiding somewhere in the eight villages. That’s why I’ve been lying low here, looking for clues.”

Li Xinzhi’s disappearance while searching for Liu Da was unknown to outsiders.

Boss Li of the Red Sleeve Brothel had been furious, spending heavily on the search, using official forces and contacting their martial brothers who had connections to Liu Da.

Their joint effort was to find any trace of Liu Da and Li Xinzhi.

Yet days had passed without a single lead.

So, Sha Qiancheng basically believed Song Xianling’s story.

Searching openly had failed, so covert operations seemed plausible.

The idea of a Dark Faction also made sense.

Otherwise, martial world top twenty Liu Da and someone like Li Xinzhi wouldn’t vanish without a trace overnight.

“You’re stirring up the hornet’s nest today.”

Song Xianling frowned.

“If I tell Xinzhi’s aunt, you won’t escape unscathed.”

Xinzhi’s aunt was Boss Li of Red Sleeve Brothel—a secret normal people wouldn’t know!

Sha Qiancheng’s legs trembled with fear.

His reckless decision to search this way today was clearly a mistake.

Everyone knew how ruthless Boss Li was.

If she found out he’d wasted her time, regardless of justification, he and his brothers wouldn’t end well.

“Brother, I beg you, please don’t tell anyone, and especially don’t tell Boss Li we were here. We’ll leave immediately!”

Sha Qiancheng bowed respectfully to Song Xianling, apologizing repeatedly.

Song Xianling nodded.

“For Liu Da’s sake, I’ll let this slide this time. But only this once.”

Sha Qiancheng thanked Song Xianling again and hurriedly waved his brothers to leave.

The knife-faced man doubted Song Xianling’s identity.

“Brother, don’t you know who he is? Why trust his words? What if he’s just pretending to know things to trick us?”

“Good point.”

Sha Qiancheng suddenly stopped, telling the knife-faced man and others to wait right there.

When Sha Qiancheng ran back, the villagers had already dispersed.

Song Xianling squatted by the granary, staring blankly at a climbing vine growing along the wall.

[Value Explanation]:

Fuzhu Cage, the bane of Xiongzhi, planted every three feet to enclose Xiongzhi, preventing them from wreaking havoc outside.

“Um—”

Hearing Sha Qiancheng’s voice, Song Xianling immediately stood up, but his robe snagged on a splinter in the granary wood.

The fabric tore with a “rriipp,” and something fell out.

A hand.

At that moment, Sha Qiancheng’s face changed drastically.

His suspicious expression immediately turned into one of fear and respect toward Song Xianling.

“Anything else?”

Song Xianling feigned calmness and asked, though in his palm he already held a pouch of white tree pollen, ready for use.

“Ah, nothing, nothing.”

Sha Qiancheng stammered.

“I just wanted to thank you again!”

He respectfully bowed to Song Xianling, then quickly ran off.

Song Xianling felt a bit puzzled but didn’t bother to dwell on it.

Looking at the torn robe, Song Xianling knew it wouldn’t be easy to mend, especially since it was made of silk.

Earlier, after sweating and changing clothes, he had grabbed this top set without thinking.

If only he had chosen the hemp one, it would have been easier to fix.

He picked up the small fallen object: oval, milky white, thumb-sized, with a hole in the center and a row of three small round holes on the side.

What was this?

Chen Changgui arrived, leading a donkey and accompanied by Fang Xiaoyuan.

“How about this donkey?”

The mule was strong and spirited, its bright eyes showing it was a capable beast of burden.

Song Xianling was satisfied.

“Looks good. How much?”

“Oh, thanks to your help earlier, you saved Xiaoyuan’s life. How can we charge you for the donkey? Consider it a gift in gratitude!”

When Chen Changgui said this, Fang Xiaoyuan lowered his head, clearly reluctant.

“I just said a few words earlier. It doesn’t count as help. I just want to buy the donkey, so name a price.”

Chen Changgui probed,

“How about a thousand wen? Less would be fine, right, Xiaoyuan?”

Fang Xiaoyuan nodded, head drooping.

“I don’t think this kid really wants to sell the donkey. Village chief, did you pressure him? There’s no need—transactions should be voluntary. It’s the same wherever I buy.”

“Who said that? I want to sell!”

Fang Xiaoyuan suddenly looked up and glared at Song Xianling.

“One thousand wen. The donkey’s already here!”

“You kid, can’t you speak properly?”

Chen Changgui tapped Fang Xiaoyuan’s head.

“All right, three thousand wen, you keep it. Market price.”

Song Xianling shoved the money pouch into Fang Xiaoyuan’s hand and asked,

“You don’t like me? Did I bully you before?”

“No!”

Fang Xiaoyuan glared again, then took the money and ran off.

Chen Changgui tried to stop him but was pushed, nearly stumbling.

“This kid!”

“Kids have their moods. But village chief, you really should take care of your health. You used to be sturdy, but you almost got knocked down by a child.”

“Ah.”

Chen Changgui wondered if he was about to take a loss and decided he needed to recuperate well.

Song Xianling recalled the torn fabric and asked Chen Changgui,

“Is there anyone in the village who can read and is strong, but often isn’t home and likes to roam the mountains?”

Chen Changgui thought for a moment and shook his head.

“Li Dalang is the best reader. He’s a good man who teaches the village children literacy, unlike many adults who are blind to the world. Lately, everyone’s busy with pest control in the fields, and only a few half-grown kids run around. No one goes up the mountain.”

“Okay, I got it.”

Song Xianling borrowed a large earthenware basin from Chen Changgui and transplanted the Fuzhu Cage vine growing beside the granary into it.

This time, he carefully noted the vine’s growing environment to ensure successful transplantation.

The Fuzhu Cage was very useful.

It could imprison Xiongzhi like a giant prison.

For example, Hell Vine was a type of Xiongzhi.

Song Xianling had previously worried that Hell Vine’s killing vines, though effective for pest control during peak growth, were limited in quantity and couldn’t be promoted nationwide to benefit all poor commoners.

But with the Fuzhu Cage as a safety measure, he could try propagating Hell Vine seedlings by cutting and planting.

Once the Hell Vine took root and was fed fresh meat, it would grow rapidly, providing an inexhaustible source of pest control.

For dinner, Song Xianling made dumplings stuffed with chives and eggs.

Song Han and Song Jimin, along with Bai Ge, were all seated at the table, but Song Luyuan still hadn’t returned.

Song Jimin sensed something was wrong.

“Second brother should have been back by now from hauling the stone.”

“Maybe it has to do with that message.”

Song Xianling told everyone about the message he saw while cutting sugarcane.

Bai Ge was both surprised and angry.

“Who dares to leave a threatening message for Uncle Song? Second brother can’t have really disappeared, right?”

Just as Song Han was about to speak, Song Xianling cut him off.

“I know who did it. I’m going to find him now.”