Before long, Wen Xiaoqiao returned. The imposing young woman strode through the wind and snow like a tank, four blade-wielding menial workers trailing behind her, looking every bit the image of authority.
“How did it go?” Li Yuan asked.
She paused, then teased, “Oh, so now you want to hear what I saw instead of checking for yourself, Young Master Li?”
With a sweet smile that clashed with her solid build, she continued, “Everything looks just as a live market would. Most of the goods are either numb with fear or shivering. Some do cry, but the moment they start, the merchants punish them. So the place goes quiet again soon enough.”
Li Yuan felt his heart jolt, though not over the cruelty of the scene but at how eerily familiar it felt, reminding him of horror stories from his past life. Places thick with misery and dampness were prime breeding grounds for malevolent spirits. A black market matched both conditions perfectly.
Wen Xiaoqiao went on, “Tonight, I’m going to station all the menial workers here and keep watch. Want to join me?”
“If we solve this missing-persons case, it would be a huge achievement,” she said, sounding eager. “You might not know it yet, but with enough merit in the Blood Blade Sect, we can shorten the three-year assessment period. A big success , and in a few months, we might be promoted to outer disciples.”
She made an expansive gesture. “This place is an island in the middle of a lake, wide open on all sides. If any threat approaches from outside, we’ll see it coming. And if it’s an inside job, well...Senior Li is stationed here, so what’s there to fear?”
Her gaze flickered mischievously. “Could it be that this spooky little story of two missing associate members has you frightened? I mean, you’re the only entry rank martial artist among us, right? If word got out that you were scared—”
She was clearly trying to goad him into participating. Having an entry rank martial artist on her side would give her some peace of mind.
But just then, Li Yuan turned and bowed his head, letting out a soft cough. With a flick of his fingers, a small pouch about the size of a fingernail slipped into his mouth. It was filled with pig’s blood—one of several precautions he’d prepared, along with items like lime powder and iron nails.
He bit through the pouch, hacking violently so that the blood spattered forth. It bloomed into crimson splotches on his palms and on the snow-dusted ground outside, stark and shocking.
Wen Xiaoqiao, caught off guard by his sudden coughing fit, stared in alarm. The menial workers glanced over in disbelief, and the atmosphere fell silent.
Li Yuan continued coughing, struggling to catch his breath. His heavy wheezing only underscored the startling sight of fresh blood staining the snow.
His breaths came in shallow gasps, as though he could keel over at any moment.
Wen Xiaoqiao blurted out reflexively, “Are you all right?”
After a long pause, Li Yuan finally steadied himself. In a weak voice, he replied, “An old injury...from my days in Little Ink Mountain. Everyone in Little Ink Village knows about it... Cough, cough...! The doctor from the Spring Clinic in town knows, too...”
That took Wen Xiaoqiao by surprise; she’d assumed he was just scared, not actually injured.
“I’ll talk to Senior Li, ask for a few days off to recover,” Li Yuan said with a resigned sigh, sounding almost regretful. “Such a big chance for glory, Miss Wen. If you’d just—cough, cough—wait until I’m better, we could guard the place together.”
“Take your time and heal,” she replied, returning to her usual calm. Still, a flash of cunning glimmered in her small eyes. So he’s not quite the invincible support I thought he’d be after all. The 60 menial workers are enough, plus Senior Li is right here. If I handle this alone, I can claim all the credit!
Moments later, Li Yuan arrived at the black market’s entrance, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned pain. Under a nameless little pavilion, Senior Li lounged in a rocking chair, half-dozing.
“Senior Li, my old injury has flared up... I need a few days’ leave,” Li Yuan said, his voice rasping with staged weakness. He had prepared plenty of excuses, but before he could elaborate, the man in the pavilion spoke.
“If that’s the case, then take half a month off. In two weeks, it’ll be your turn to patrol again. Make sure you’re back by then.”
“Yes, sir... Cough, cough...! Thank you, Senior Li,” Li Yuan answered, still clutching his chest as he walked away. Behind him, the wicker chair went on creaking in the thickly falling snow.
Back in the shanty district, at Li Yuan’s home...
Yan Yu and Auntie Wang were in the middle of cooking meat and rice when they heard a knock on the door. Auntie Wang went to peek through a crack, then opened it, saw the black-robed young man, and exclaimed, “Master!”
Yan Yu rushed over, concern clear on her face. “Husband, why are you back so soon?”
“I’ll explain inside...” Li Yuan rasped through another coughing fit.
She shot him a worried look but held her tongue. “Auntie Wang, set another place at the table.”
Auntie Wang quickly fetched an extra bowl and chopsticks. Once the millet was cooked and the stew ready, she led her two children outside to continue tidying up, leaving the couple to eat in peace. The house had belonged to someone else not long ago, and there was still plenty of work to be done to make the place truly livable.
Li Yuan sat at the table and called out to those outside, “Auntie Wang, come join us for the meal.”
From outside, Auntie Wang responded, “Master, we’re not hungry. Please, go ahead without us...”
Li Yuan fell silent for a moment. Yan Yu quietly said, “Husband, let her be. Don’t make it awkward for her. Auntie Wang told me she wants to act like a proper servant now. We brought her and her children here to Silver Creek; she’s already more grateful than she can say. If you insist on her sharing our table, she’ll only feel uncomfortable.”
Li Yuan glanced outside again, seeing the two children wiping everything down, their cheeks red from the cold. He said, “Then let’s at least set up another small table for them. Make sure Auntie Wang and the kids can eat properly, too.”
“Really?” Yan Yu’s eyes lit up.
“Of course,” he confirmed.
So she went off to speak at length with Auntie Wang. Eventually, Auntie Wang brought her children inside, thanked Li Yuan profusely, then carried a small table into the side room. She served them bowls of rice and some of the meat stew, and the three of them sat down to eat together.
With that settled, the main room grew quiet again. The young couple faced each other, silently eating.
After a while, Li Yuan spoke up. “From now on, let’s say I’m stuck at home with my old injury—you know, the one I got on Little Ink Mountain.”
Yan Yu looked up, startled.
He went on, “I’ll stay home for a few days and recuperate before deciding anything else.”
“What’s happened?” she asked nervously.
Li Yuan answered, “It’s something in the black market. I hope I’m just overthinking it...”
He didn’t hide anything from his wife, so he told her about the two missing associates. Hearing this, she turned pale and said, “Then stay home until things become clearer.”
After lunch, Li Yuan lay down for a midday nap. When he awoke, his eyes fell on the blade issued by the Blood Blade Sect. Previously, he’d been caught up in all kinds of tasks, with neither the tools nor the dedicated time to experiment with anything new. But now that he’d called in sick, and he had this blade right at hand...
Maybe he could try his luck with sword—or rather, blade—practice. If communicating with tigers had awakened his Beast Taming skill, then who was to say intensive training with a blade couldn’t unlock a blade skill?
Though small, their shanty home had everything in its own humble way—a main room, a side room, and both a front and backyard. Outside, fresh snow was already covering the area Auntie Wang had just swept.
Stepping into the back yard with the blade in hand, Li Yuan drew and sheathed it a few times, slicing at the air rather aimlessly. Nothing came of it. Frustrated, he retreated under the eaves for a brief rest.
Then, recalling his previous life as a butcher, he decided to try applying the cutting techniques he’d used for slaughtering pigs—perhaps that practical experience would trigger something new.