After learning that the leader of the Qinghe Gang might be an Eighth-Grade Martial Artist, and the other top enforcers are Ninth-Grade Martial Artists,
Chen Mo had pretty much gathered all the information he wanted.
After a few more words, Wu Mountain left the private room, holding the girl he had just ordered, and went off to a small private chamber.
Chen Mo, however, was not in the mood for this.
First, this Purple Gold Tower wasn’t exactly a high-class brothel, the people who came here were of all sorts, and the girl he just ordered wasn’t of the high-priced kind, who knows how many times she had been ordered.
Just taking advantage of some hands and feet was enough.
As for the real deal, Chen Mo was worried about catching a disease.
He wasn’t that desperate; wasn’t the sister-in-law at home enough for him?
Secondly, his time was too precious, he still had other matters to attend to.
Of course, he didn’t leave the Purple Gold Tower immediately, instead, he continued to drink and play drinking games with the girl, waiting until she was drunk, like a soft mud pile on him, and passed out.
Chen Mo then undressed her, covered her with a quilt, closed the door of the small chamber, and secretly left the Purple Gold Tower.
Because the New Year had just passed, there were all kinds of vendors on the street, shouting their wares, making it very lively.
Outside the courtyard in the south of the county town, over a hundred loafers in small groups were gathered around a table, drinking and playing finger-guessing games.
In the midst of excitement, these people stomped one foot on the ground, the other on the stool, shouting loudly with foul language flowing freely, creating an extremely noisy scene.
For the losers, they would raise their wine bowls and drink up, the wine spilling from the corners of their mouths, wetting their clothes with the strong smell of alcohol.
The winners accompanied their cheers with applause, shouting out praise.
In contrast to the hustle and bustle outside, the parlor inside the courtyard was silent.
After a long while, Yang Wei, who was sitting at the main seat, finally spoke: "It has been so many days without any news. What use are you? Do you know how people outside see us now? Our prestige has been destroyed, trampled and humiliated, yet you haven’t even managed to find a single clue, a bunch of useless..."
After saying this, he slammed his hand heavily on the table in front of him, causing the tabletop to crack instantly.
The seven Hall Masters dared not respond.
"In any case, this matter must be resolved immediately. Even if it can’t be solved, we must find someone to take the blame quickly, to quell the impact of this incident." Yang Wei said in a deep voice.
Sitting second to the right of Yang Wei, the fat man known as "Pig Head Three" Zhu San spoke up: "Boss, yesterday my men in Fu Ze Village heard of someone who seemed very suspicious."
"Speak." Yang Wei furrowed his brow.
"This person is named Chen Mo, sixteen years old, yet he can already hunt bears on the mountains alone, able to fight more than ten people by himself, and I had someone go to the Government Office to check his records; he has a brother who had made merits and received a military cultivation technique, so he should be an Entry Grade Martial Artist. And someone saw him fishing at Dadong Lake the day Chen Hu had his accident, so I suspect Chen Hu’s death might be related to him," said Zhu San.
"A sixteen-year-old kid, with the guts to kill someone from our Qinghe Gang?" a Hall Master said.
"Suspicion is enough. Go get him, regardless of whether he is the murderer or not; he has to be." Seeing the Qinghe Gang’s prestige plummet, Yang Wei had to restore some of it.
As soon as his voice fell.
The parlor’s door was kicked open. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁
"Who?" The Qinghe Gang minions outside shouted.
The few inside the parlor were also startled, their eyes turning towards the door.
A tall man dressed in black, wearing a bamboo hat, face covered, holding a long black-sheathed saber, strode in.
Yang Wei’s expression tightened, his brows furrowing further.
The masked man who entered the house acted like it was his own home, casually brushing the snow off his shoulders before turning around and closing the parlor door with a "click."
The confused minions were locked outside.
The seven Hall Masters also frowned in succession, wondering where this strange man came from.
Zhu San stood up, coldly shouted, "Who are you?"
The next second, he saw the masked man slightly raise his head, a chilling cold light shooting from his eyes.
The sound of drawing a saber!
Sitting at the head, Yang Wei sensed something amiss, turned around reaching for the great saber on the weapon rack behind him.
At the same time, the masked man who drew his saber swiftly swung it down.
In the parlor, a flash of saber light.
In an instant, a mist of blood erupted, wooden splinters flying.
The three Qinghe Gang Hall Masters sitting in the row with Zhu San, along with the stools beneath them, were directly sliced in half by the Sword Qi.
Zhu San was the worst off, as he was standing, he was directly split in two by the Sword Qi, intestines spilling on the floor.
Several were shocked silly by this scene.
But, being experienced, they quickly got up and dispersed to avoid being strung together like Zhu San and the others.
Yang Wei was also shocked, but as the leader of a gang, he naturally had courage, not begging for mercy from fright. Just as he wanted to question the masked man,
The masked man had no intention of wasting words with them, simply raising his saber and attacking.
Yang Wei didn’t understand why, but he knew that this person was specifically here to kill them.
"This person is a formidable enemy, attack together."
Yang Wei shouted, picking up the Nine-Ringed Saber and charging forward.
However, the masked man’s speed was too fast. With a few strides and a powerful slash, he shattered the parlor’s table and rushed to Yang Wei.
In the masked man’s eyes, Yang Wei’s forehead showed a red number 69+7.
In haste, Yang Wei could only raise his Horizontal Saber to block.
With just a quick flick of the wrist, Yang Wei heard a clear sound of cold metal clashing, then a powerful force struck down the blade, causing it to slam into his chest. He stumbled back, collapsing the weapon rack behind him, only stopping when he hit the wall, ending up sitting on the ground, the Nine-Ringed Saber in his hand having a large notch, almost about to break.
"Hiss..." Yang Wei felt like his internal organs had shifted, his chest burned painfully, wanting to cough a few times, the masked man, however, didn’t give him a chance, merely letting out a simple grunt of surprise before preparing to slash again.
Fortunately, at this time, the remaining four Hall Masters rushed in to help, allowing Yang Wei a breath.
But it was merely a breath.
The four Hall Masters who charged in were like ants, instantly being cut down by the masked man, three slaughtered, one kicked away.
Only then did the masked man speak: "Are you the Qinghe Gang’s leader Yang Wei?"
Yang Wei didn’t know what this meant, but he felt it might be a glimmer of hope for survival, nodding: "I am."
"You’re the one I’m looking for." The masked man swiftly slit his throat.
Yang Wei instinctively covered his throat, wanting to say something, but only blood gushed from his mouth, feeling the life slipping away, with his last breath, he tried to tear off the mask of the man before him, but his hand fell halfway up, dying with his eyes open.
The Hall Master who had been kicked flew struggled to get up, then painfully crawled towards the door.
Just as he opened the parlor door, a bamboo hat flew over.
He glanced down, then collapsed on the parlor threshold.
The masked man walked out, drawing the bamboo hat from the body on the floor, shook off the bloodstains, then put it on his head.