bestfiction Chapter 142 Shan Shiqi avenges his great grudge; Li Hanxiao persuades Bian Xiang.
Chapter 142 Shan Shiqi avenges his great grudge; Li Hanxiao persuades Bian Xiang.
The broken carved wooden windows on the second floor creaked in the night wind, and the smell of blood mixed with alcohol slowly fermented in the air.
Shan Shiqi stood beside the vermilion pillars, his iron rod gleaming with a cold, bluish-gray light in the moonlight. He stared at the octagonal table by the window, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were savoring the taste of the impending slaughter.
Behind that table were his three enemies, who were now trembling with fear.
"Help! Help me!"
At this moment, the one who dared to make a rash move was that old bastard Zhao Baye. After witnessing the tragic death of the guard, the alcohol in his body instantly turned into cold sweat, and he actually stood up and wanted to run away.
He knocked over the rosewood chair, and as he staggered backward, he stepped on a rolled wine jar, his filthy robe stained with sauce.
Unfortunately, he couldn't escape. Shan Shiqi's iron rod seemed to come alive, hooking his belt with a flick of the rod tip, lifting his 200-pound body into the air.
"A life for a life, a debt for a debt, where do you think you're going?!"
Shan Shiqi's voice was like an iron rod scraping against a bluestone slab, "Do you remember how much silver you gave to the yamen?"
Suddenly, Shan Shiqi's staff trembled, and Zhao Baye slammed it heavily onto the Eight Immortals table, the sound of bowls and plates shattering mixed with the crisp cracking of broken ribs.
While Shan Shiqi was torturing Zhao Baye, Hei Laoqi saw that even this old man Zhao Baye dared to fight to the death. He must know some martial arts, so he couldn't just sit and wait to die!
Black Seven drew his sword from his waist, and just as Shan Shiqi was about to kill Zhao Baye, he managed to swing it.
The burly man from Guanxi carried a foul stench from his weapon. The sharp tip of his blade was about to pierce Shan Shiqi's left shoulder when the iron rod spun half a circle around the blade of his waist knife, and the end of the rod struck the right wrist bone of Black Old Seven like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
With a "crack," the waist knife, inlaid with seven jade stones on its hilt, flew out of his hand and smashed a hole the size of a wine glass in the floorboards.
"You'll have to settle your accounts gradually."
Shan Shiqi used the tip of his boot to lift his waist knife and kicked it directly into the corner, while the iron rod was already pressed against Black Old Seven's throat.
"When you sent people to kill my father, did you ever imagine that you would suffer a fate worse than death in my hands today?"
As Shan Shiqi spoke, he kicked Hei Laoqi out of the room, and at the same time, the iron rod suddenly moved down three inches and stabbed heavily into Hei Laoqi's dantian.
The blood and foam that Black Old Seven vomited contained fragments of internal organs, and his huge body curled up like a shrimp as he rolled down the stairs.
Chen Liuzi was only just snapping out of his shock. This skinny, monkey-like rogue was incredibly cunning. He flung three wine cups at Shan Shiqi with his backhand, then crouched down and darted out the window.
Without turning his head, Shan Shiqi swung his iron rod in a wide arc behind him, knocking down all the wine cups with a few clangs. Then, he swept the rod horizontally, shattering the entire carved wooden window. Chen Liuzi's neck was pierced by flying splinters, drawing blood.
"Can you escape?"
Shan Shiqi's voice was colder than the night wind. He leaped out with a stick in one hand, the iron stick striking the eaves, and he landed in front of Chen Liuzi like a hawk.
The bluestone slabs on the ground were now damp with mist, and the sparks trailed by the iron rod drew a scarlet path in the night.
Chen Liuzi suddenly knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly: "Master Shan, spare my life! It was all Zhao Ba and Hei Qi's doing..."
Before he could finish speaking, the iron rod was already shoved into his wide-open mouth. Shan Shiqi twisted his wrist, and two rows of yellow teeth mixed with blood splattered onto the stone slab.
"When you took my indigo seeds, did you ever beg for mercy?"
The iron rod suddenly swung upwards, and Chen Liuzi's jawbone, along with half of his tongue, flew into the dark river.
The city watchman had just struck the third watch gong, and now the iron rod, covered in brains and broken bones, dragged a winding trail of blood across the bluestone slab.
Shan Shiqi stared at Chen Liuzi's mangled limbs on the ground and suddenly burst into laughter. His laughter startled the crows roosting at night, which fluttered past the broken windows of Zuixianlou.
In the private room on the third floor, Zhao Baye's obese body was wedged between the broken eight-immortal table. A mixed iron rod pierced through the back of his neck, and the tip of the rod went through his throat and nailed him to the cypress wood floor, like a nailed toad.
Hei Laoqi's body lay across the corner of the stairs, his knife stuck upside down in his own open mouth. The worst off was Chen Liuzi, whose head had been smashed to pieces by an iron bar, and whose limbs were bent at bizarre angles, like a puppet dismantled by a naughty child.
Blood dripped down the cracks in the floorboards, leaving scarlet tear stains on the "Wealth from All Directions" plaque in the main hall of Zuixianlou.
Shan Shiqi's revenge has been avenged. As for the restaurant, it was still Zhao Baye's property, so it's fine if it's burned down.
However, Li Hanxiao and his group took Bian Xiang away. Although Li Hanxiao had not yet confirmed Bian Xiang's identity, he could not easily let him go. He was a talented person, and Li Hanxiao had to take him in.
This was no small matter. After succeeding, they immediately took Bian Xiang and fled, traveling seventy or eighty miles before resting at a dilapidated temple on a remote mountain.
Li Hanxiao was very fortunate that Bian Xiang was not involved in killing Shan Shiqi's father or burning the seeds. Otherwise, he would have had to choose between Shan Shiqi and Bian Xiang. If he chose Bian Xiang, Shan Shiqi would not tolerate him, and if he chose Bian Xiang, Shan Shiqi would definitely try to kill him. It was just like the saying, "You can't have your cake and eat it too."
Half a broken copper bell hangs from the eaves of the mountain temple, making a hoarse sound as the night wind blows by. Bian Xiang is tied behind his back to a peeling vermilion pillar, the thick hemp rope digging into his strong arms. The torchlight flickers among the mottled murals, making the sword at Li Hanxiao's waist glow and dim.
"Shall we have a drink to warm ourselves up?"
Li Hanxiao untied the leather pouch from his waist, and the moment he poured high-proof liquor into a rough earthenware bowl, the aroma of the liquor mixed with the scent of burning pine resin filled the hall.
Bian Xiang turned his head away, but his Adam's apple bobbed in the shadows—since being captured last night, he hadn't eaten or drunk anything. His body was enormous, so the energy he needed to get from food was naturally considerable. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't hungry at this moment.
"Just a bowl of wine? You dare not drink it?"
Li Han smirked and provoked Bian Xiang, pressing the rim of the bowl against his lips again. Bian Xiang, who had opened his mouth to drink in a huff, paused as if remembering something. Then, Bian Xiang suddenly broke free of his chains: "My master has treated me with great kindness!"
With his strength, ordinary ropes couldn't hold him; they had to find an iron chain to tie him up.
His roar shook the dust that had accumulated on the beams, but he froze when he met Li Hanxiao's smiling eyes.
Those eyes weren't like the ruthless bandit leader Bian Xiang had imagined; they were like stars reflected in a deep pool, reminding him of when he was fifteen, when his employer, Uncle Zhao, thought he was strong and a good farmer, pointing to the granary and saying, "From now on, follow me and we'll eat wheat flour."
"Your master died last night under the blows of my brother Shan Shiqi; he was truly mutilated beyond recognition."
Li Hanxiao placed the wine bowl in the crack of the offering table and slammed the three-pointed double-edged knife down on the faded yellow silk.
"His dying words were, 'Bian Xiang, come save me!' If it weren't for those words…"
Li Hanxiao hesitated, wanting to speak but stopping himself. If he hadn't overheard Zhao Baye's words, he certainly wouldn't have spared Bian Xiang's life...
Similarly, these words were like a branding iron, burning Bian Xiang so much that he trembled. His arm bumped into the offering table, and a gray rat scurried under the table, knocking over half a candle, the wax snaking out in a snake-like pattern.
Bian Xiang stared at the solidified dark red stain, then suddenly hissed, "I grew up eating the food of my employer! When I was fifteen..."
His voice caught in his throat, the snowy night in his mind so clear: his mother's handkerchief, coughing up blood, fell into the pile of freshly ground wheat flour; his father died; his mother begged the landlord to help with the funeral arrangements; the landlord came to visit, didn't settle any accounts, but said, "Leave this brat to pay off the debt," and took Bian Xiang back to the village to do long-term work.
The wine bowl on the offering table swayed slightly, reflecting his distorted face. Although he was still a laborer, the employer liked him because he was hardworking. He gave him white flour to eat and didn't ask his family to repay the money. In the end, when his mother died, he was given a thin coffin for nothing...
"How old are you this year?" "Thirty?" "From fifteen to early thirty, nearly twenty years of forced labor in exchange for two thin coffins and two or three meals of wheat flour a day. This wine has sold me out."
Li Hanxiao's fingers traced the Taotie pattern on the sword as he began to educate Bian Xiang, "Do you know the difference between a hired laborer and a tenant farmer?"
He suddenly turned around, his cloak stirring up the accumulated dust. "Tenants should pay rent, hired laborers should receive wages—have you ever received a copper coin? Or perhaps…?"
He took a half-step closer. "You think of yourself as a household slave? Well, he's using you to pay off his debts since you were a child. In his eyes, you're probably not even a household slave, just livestock to be kept in captivity!"
The snorting of horses came from outside the hall, startling crows that flew past the waning moon. Cold sweat beaded on Bian Xiang's forehead as the iron chains dug deep into his flesh.
He recalled that after last autumn's harvest, the master's concubine's jade bracelet was left in the threshing ground. The steward led men to search every straw mat of the farmhands. That night, he knelt on the pebbles, the blood seeping from his knees staining the moonlight a dark purple. But all he could think about was that he had sold himself to the master, so it was only right...
"I sold it to the owner, shouldn't I?"
Bian Xiang spoke up.
"What about the indenture? Does it exist?"
Li Han's laughter was like a thin blade: "If you do, I'll let you go immediately."
Bian Xiang's pupils suddenly contracted. He suddenly remembered a certain afternoon when his employer, holding a cinnabar pen, said, "Just put your handprint on it." But when he reached out his hand, the employer laughed and took away the gold-flecked paper, saying, "Never mind, this kid is honest. If he works hard in the future, I guess I won't want to leave."
At this moment, the copper bells on the eaves suddenly jingled loudly, and the wind carried the sound of pine trees from the distant mountains.
Ripples appeared on the wine bowl on the offering table. Li Han smiled, picked it up, and drank it all. As his Adam's apple bobbed, he asked, "Have you ever heard of the name Shan Shiqi?"
Bian Xiang trembled violently. A week ago, on that moonlit night, his employer had ordered him to lead men to surround Shan Shiqi's house in the west village, set it on fire, and rob it. Fortunately, he had diarrhea from drinking raw water and didn't make it. His employer then sent someone else instead...
"You, Dongjia, along with Hei Laoqi and Chen Liuzi, in order to seize the indigo seeds from Shan Shiqi's family to use as dye, murdered Shan Shiqi's father and five sedan chair carriers for profit. They then burned down Shan Shiqi's seed shed, stealing all the seeds. They also bribed officials, engaging in collusion between officials and merchants, leaving Shan Shiqi with no way out, utterly helpless."
Li Hanxiao abruptly threw off his cloak, revealing the sword at his waist. "Speak," he said, "Don't think I'm sparing your life. It's not that I'm being merciful; I'm just trying to teach you a lesson. Don't let your kneeling make you unwilling to stand up. There's a saying you've probably never heard: when the law fails to bring justice to the parties involved, private revenge becomes legitimate, even noble, from that moment on. If it were me, I wouldn't let your employer, or even that corrupt official, go. Does murder for money, collusion between officials and businessmen, not deserve to be killed?"
At that moment, a warm liquid dripped onto the back of Bian Xiang's hand. He looked down and saw that it was his bitten lip. He understood what Li Hanxiao meant, but he was very conflicted.
Spiderwebs swayed in the wind at the corner of the palace. Suddenly, Li Hanxiao picked up a three-pointed double-edged sword and with a single stroke, cleaved the iron chains, freeing Bian Xiang from his restraints.
Bian Xiang staggered and fell onto the prayer mat, the rotten grass core piercing his palm.
"Should you hate us?"
The three-pointed double-edged sword slammed onto the blue bricks. Li Han smiled seriously and said, "The wages he withheld over the past twenty years could buy twenty or thirty oxen; the so-called 'rewards' he gave your mother when she was seriously ill were nothing more than a drop in the ocean. Your father and mother worked themselves to death or fell ill paying rent for whom, and what did he care about that? It's just that when an old ox dies, you have to raise a calf to replace it, and to raise an ox you have to feed it good fodder, otherwise it won't have the strength to work. What's the difference between the white flour you've been eating all these years and ox feed…?"
Li Han smiled and looked at Bian Xiang with amusement, while Bian Xiang's fist slammed into the ground, and beads of blood seeping from his knuckles rolled into the cracks between the bricks.
He recalled that last New Year's Eve, the cured meat his employer had given him was covered in ice crystals, but the steward said, "This is just the master's kindness." However, when he returned and saw that the meat had already gone moldy...
He seemed to treat himself very well, but in reality, Bian Xiang didn't seem to regard himself as a human being at all. It was a habit he had developed over the past ten years, and he would be extremely grateful if his employer gave him any scraps of food.
But this was what he deserved all along, and he deserved even more...
The gray rat under the offering table poked its head out again and snatched away half a hardened offering cake, just like a capitalist who waits for an opportunity to take advantage of everything without leaving a trace...
"Come with me to Liangshan!"
Li Hanxiao took off his fox fur cloak and draped it over him, "I'm not asking you to become a bandit."
He suddenly laughed, fine lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Let's go and seek justice for all the hired laborers in the world, let them know they are human beings, not cattle or horses."
Suddenly, the horses outside the hall neighed loudly, and the morning light pierced through the broken window, illuminating the mottled paintings on the beams and pillars—the Buddha in the murals was smiling while holding up a flower.
Bian Xiang gazed at the silver fox fur collar of the cloak, recalling the mink coat his master wore in winter. Both the mink coat and this fox fur were expensive items, so why did the mink coat feel distant to him, while the fox fur did not...?
When he reached out, the wound on his wrist, chafed by the iron chains, was still bleeding, yet he touched a warmth he had never felt before. The copper bells on the eaves rang again, this time mingled with the clear chirping of sparrows.
"The stronghold won't miss a bite to eat, come on over."
Bian Xiang suddenly looked up and saw the morning light dancing in the other person's eyes. The wine bowl on the offering table was full again, and the amber liquid swayed, reflecting the dawn clouds.
"it is good!"
Bian Xiang shouted loudly, startling all the birds roosting on the mountain. He grabbed the wine bowl and drank it all in one gulp, the wine dripping down his chin onto his faded coarse linen clothes.
As he stood up, the clanging of the iron chains sounded as clear and melodious as copper bells on the eaves. Li Han laughed loudly as he pushed open the door. The mountain wind swept in, carrying pine needles, and dispersed the bloody stench of the previous night into the blazing sunset, welcoming this new member of Liangshan.