Chen Anshun left the Xu Residence with three hundred taels of silver, his steps quicker than when he arrived.
The silver pressed against his chest, heavy and reassuring.
He retraced his path, gradually entering the secluded village roads of the northern city.
The Zhao Residence was in the south of the city, the docks in the north, with most of Qingquan County in between. Taking a shortcut required passing through a stretch of desolate fields.
On both sides were harvested rice fields, the stubble sticking out of the muddy ground, with a few crooked dead trees standing in the distance, not a soul in sight.
Chen Anshun reached a dirt slope at a bend and suddenly halted.
Thirty steps ahead, a sturdy man leaned against a roadside stone tablet, arms crossed, blocking the way.
The man had broad shoulders and a round waist, dressed in a gray-brown short outfit, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing two veiny forearms.
He wore a pair of half-worn leather boots, mud splattered on the surface. A machete was tucked at his waist, the rope wrapped around the handle worn black.
Late Stage of the Third-rate Realm.
Chen Anshun glanced at him, quickly assessing the man's strength.
The man stood there, his aura neither restrained nor released, slightly stronger than Chen Anshun half a month ago, but weaker than his current self.
The man was also sizing him up.
An old man with a hunched back, wearing faded coarse cloth, walking on a deserted path. He looked like an easy target.
"Old man."
The man spoke, his mouth twisting into a grin, revealing a row of yellowed teeth.
"You sure have patience, taking so long to make a trip. I've been squatting here for half a month, my legs are numb."
Chen Anshun didn't respond, his right hand silently dropping to his waist, fingertips touching the small cloth bag in his pocket.
The man straightened from the stone tablet, taking two steps forward.
"Too bad, your time is up."
He extended a hand, palm up, beckoning Chen Anshun with his fingers.
"Hand over the Poison-Repelling Pearl, and I'll let you go. This isn't something an old man like you can hold onto."
Poison-Repelling Pearl?
Chen Anshun's brow furrowed slightly.
Where would he get a Poison-Repelling Pearl? He'd seen one once back when he was in the constable's office.
A thumb-sized dark green bead, worn close to the body to dispel most ingested poisons, a coveted life-saving item in the jianghu. Even a common one was worth over ten thousand taels.
How could he, a head stablehand, have such a treasure?
But now wasn't the time to think. The man was already poised to attack, standing in the middle of the road, with muddy fields on both sides, making it hard to escape.
Chen Anshun deliberately hunched his back even more, his voice low and hoarse.
"I don't understand what you're saying... what pearl... I'm just a stablehand at the Zhao Residence..."
"Stop pretending."
The man interrupted impatiently, pushing off with his foot, lunging forward.
His speed wasn't slow. A burst of sprinting kicked up a cloud of dust. His fists, one in front of the other, the left feinting, the right aiming straight for Chen Anshun's face.
As the punch wind approached, Chen Anshun moved.
He didn't retreat or block. His right hand suddenly drew from his pocket, fingers spreading, flinging a handful of gray-white powder into the wind.
Lime powder.
The fine powder exploded in the air, hitting the man's face directly.
Before the man's right punch landed, his eyes were sealed shut with lime. The burning sensation exploded instantly, the alkaline powder seeping into his eye crevices, nasal cavity, and mouth corners, causing intense pain in his features.
"Ah—!"
A scream burst from the man's mouth. Instinctively, he covered his face with both hands, staggering backward, nearly falling into the ditch by the roadside.
"My eyes! Fuck you old man, you tricked..."
Chen Anshun didn't give him a chance to finish cursing.
He stepped forward, right foot crossing out, sinking into a horse stance, twisting his waist and back tight. A thousand pounds of force surged from the soles of his feet, twisting up his spine to his right shoulder, finally pouring into his fist.
One punch, striking the man's chest.
A dull thud.
The man was lifted half an inch off the ground by the force of the punch, a crisp sound of bones cracking echoing from his chest cavity.
He flew back two steps, crashing heavily onto the dirt road, spitting a mouthful of blood mixed with lime powder, forming a gray-red stain on the ground.
Chen Anshun retracted his fist, shaking off the lime on his hand.
Decades of wandering, carrying a fire striker in the mountains, a short knife on night roads, and lime on deserted paths. These rules were etched in his bones, never forgotten even after twenty years as a stablehand at the Zhao Residence.
This guy's strength was about nine hundred pounds, not weak, a good hand in the third-rate realm.
Too bad, he encountered someone who had regained a thousand pounds of force. Even in a direct confrontation, he might not lose, but why bother with a head-on clash?
He squatted down, grabbing the man's collar, flipping him over.
The man wasn't dead yet, his chest caved in, breathing rapid and shallow, blood bubbles continuously emerging from his mouth. His eyes were so swollen they couldn't open, tears and blood mixed, streaming down his cheeks.
"Speak."
Chen Anshun's voice was not loud, but as hard as gravel, "Who told you I had a Poison-Repelling Pearl?"
The man coughed a few times, blood splattering on Chen Anshun's hand.
"I... I don't..."
Chen Anshun extended his right thumb, pressing on the broken bone in the man's sunken chest.
A gentle grind.
"Ahhhh—!"
The man's body convulsed, mouth agape, his scream echoing far across the wilderness.
"I'm asking you a question."
The man struggled for a few breaths, finally unable to withstand it. Broken words squeezed out of his mouth, mixed with blood and groans.
"Half a month ago... wine market..."
"Which wine market?"
"The one in the north... the north..."
"Continue."
"A kid... following the Third Young Master of the Assistant Magistrate's house... got drunk, bragging..."
Chen Anshun's fingers paused.
Tian Yang.
"What was he bragging about?"
The man gasped a few breaths, his face already turning gray.
"Bragging about the Zhao Residence having many strange people... saying even an old stablehand might have a Poison-Repelling Pearl... said he had a friend who wanted to kill that old stablehand, poisoned him, watched him eat the poison, and the next day the old man was still alive and kicking... everyone said he was talking nonsense..."
"And you believed him?"
"I... I owed gambling debts... thought if it was true... even if there wasn't a Poison-Repelling Pearl, the head stablehand of the Zhao Residence would have some money..."
Chen Anshun was silent for a moment.
The pieces in his mind clicked into place.
He had been poisoned.
The day his Fate Mandate awakened, the system mentioned "on the brink of death." He had always thought it was because he was eighty, his lifespan nearing its end, his qi and blood depleted to the limit. Turns out it wasn't. It was Tian Yang who poisoned him.
It must have been arsenic.
Colorless and tasteless, mixed into his food, unnoticed.
If not for the activation and awakening of his Fate Mandate, he would likely be a cold corpse by now, wrapped in a straw mat and tossed into a mass grave.
The way Tian Yang looked at him that day wasn't out of curiosity about his improved spirit, but out of confusion as to why he wasn't dead yet.
Well played, Tian Yang.
To secure the position of head stablehand, he resorted to poisoning. Not a sophisticated method, but ruthless and decisive enough.
And the kid had a backup plan—deliberately going to the wine market, pretending to be drunk, spreading rumors about the Poison-Repelling Pearl to desperate gamblers, using them as tools to kill.
Even if the poisoning failed, someone else would clean up for him.
For a small-time servant in the Zhao Residence, his mind was meticulous to this extent.
Chen Anshun looked down at the dying man on the ground.
Unfortunately, this move overlooked one thing.
He wasn't just an ordinary old stablehand.
Chen Anshun straightened up, scanning the surroundings. The fields on both sides were empty, the distant village hadn't even started its cooking fires, not a dog in sight on the road.
He squatted back down, his hands clamping around the man's neck.
The man's murky eyes widened suddenly, mouth opening and closing, a hissing sound escaping his throat. He struggled a few times, but his strength quickly faded. His head lolled to the side, motionless.
Chen Anshun released his grip, wiping his hands on the man's clothes.
There was no hesitation in killing.
Not out of cruelty, but because he couldn't leave him alive. If this man returned, spreading the news, the rumor of a Zhao Residence stablehand reversing his qi and blood decline, possibly harboring treasures, would be unstoppable.
Then, it wouldn't just be one gambler coming after him, but a whole crowd.
There was a low-lying area by the roadside, with soft black soil beneath the stubble.
Chen Anshun dragged the body over, using the machete to dig a shallow pit, pushing the man in, covering him with soil, and stamping it down. Finally, he scattered a few bundles of stubble on top.
After finishing, he stood up, dusting off his hands.
Breathing steady, heartbeat normal.
As for Tian Yang?
Chen Anshun turned, heading in the direction of the Zhao Residence.
If he wanted that kid dead, he had at least five hundred ways to do it.