That scream was so miserable it sounded like someone was slaughtering a pig for the New Year.
Su Jinxiu stopped walking and pushed the wheelchair into the shade of a large tree by the roadside.
Ahead, a crowd had gathered, pointing and spitting as they argued noisily. In the center of the crowd, a man in a blue scholar’s robe was curled up like a cooked shrimp, hands shielding his head, still weakly crying out with all his refinement intact:
“An insult to civility! A gentleman uses words, not fists!”
Several burly men in short jackets surrounded him. The leader, a broad-faced thug holding a wooden club, kicked him while cursing:
“Gentleman? You owe the gambling house twenty taels of silver—you’re nothing but trash! If you don’t pay today, I’ll break your legs and use them as firewood!”
Su Jinxiu narrowed her eyes.
No mistake.
That voice—still carrying a pretentious, sour scholarly tone despite the screaming—belonged to the original host’s so-called “beloved,” Liu Ziqing.
Back then, the original Su Jinxiu had sold everything she could to support this man’s studies. She had even considered selling her house and land. In the end, he took her money to the gambling house, hooked up with the daughter of the Zhao wealthy family in town, and then turned around to insult her as a “vulgar village woman with no shame.”
“So what?” Huo Chen, sitting in the wheelchair, didn’t look at the chaos for long. Instead, his gaze landed on Su Jinxiu with faint interest.
“Feeling heartbroken?”
His voice was light, like a blade wrapped in silk—cold as it slid against the neck.
Su Jinxiu snapped back to attention and glanced at him. The tyrant’s eyes held no amusement, only a detached calm, with a faint trace of scrutiny.
“Heartbroken?” she sneered. “I’m heartbroken over my money.”
She patted Huo Chen’s shoulder.
“Husband, just sit here and enjoy the show. I’m going to collect some interest.”
With that, she pushed through the crowd, ignoring the raised clubs, and walked straight in.
“Stop!”
Her shout, full of force and breath control, made the beating thugs freeze for a moment.
Liu Ziqing, hearing the familiar voice, thought his savior had arrived. He painfully lifted his head from the ground. His once somewhat fair face was now bruised and swollen, nose blood smeared across his mouth. When he saw Su Jinxiu, his eyes lit up instantly.
“Jinxiu! Jinxiu, save me!”
He crawled toward her in a desperate scramble.
“These men are violent and unreasonable—they’re trying to kill me! Pay the silver for me quickly and take me home!”
The surrounding crowd let out waves of sighs.
Everyone knew the Su family’s eldest daughter was hopeless when it came to men—she would empty her entire household for them.
It looked like she was about to drain her family again.
Even Huo Chen not far away lightly tapped the wheelchair armrest, his eyelids lowered, hiding the darkness in his gaze.
Su Jinxiu didn’t move.
She let Liu Ziqing grab the hem of her skirt with his muddy hands.
“Pay your debt for you?”
She looked down at his face. The original owner’s memories surged up—betrayal, despair, unwillingness.
“Yes, Jinxiu! Didn’t you love hearing me read? If you help me through this, I… I’ll even let you be my concubine!”
Liu Ziqing felt he had offered a great mercy.
*Smack!*
A crisp slap echoed sharply.
Liu Ziqing covered his face, stunned. The entire crowd fell silent.
Su Jinxiu shook her hand.
She’d used a bit too much force; her palm felt numb.
“Liu Ziqing, is your brain made of paste?”
She crouched down so she was eye level with him, her tone almost gentle.
“I throw money to dogs, and they at least wag their tails. I give money to you, and you bite back and call me vulgar. So what now—you don’t want this face anymore?”
“You… you…” Liu Ziqing stared at her in disbelief.
Was this still the Su Jinxiu who used to obey him without question?
Su Jinxiu ignored him and stood up, looking at the lead thug.
“How much does he owe?”
The thug paused. “Principal and interest—twenty-five taels.”
“Twenty-five taels…” Su Jinxiu clicked her tongue and pointed at Liu Ziqing.
“Brother, this waste probably doesn’t even have twenty-five copper coins on him. Even if you beat him to death, you’ll just waste effort burying him.”
The thug frowned. “Then what do you suggest?”
“He’s got a rented courtyard in the west of the city, right? There are some paintings and so-called ‘rare manuscripts’ inside—bought with money he tricked out of women to show off.”
Su Jinxiu smiled sweetly as she exposed him completely.
“And the jade pendant on his waist—that’s a token from the Zhao family’s young lady. You can pawn it for at least ten taels.”
Liu Ziqing’s face turned deathly pale. He instinctively grabbed his waist.
“Su Jinxiu! You’re insane! That’s mine—”
“Your lifeline?”
Su Jinxiu grabbed his hand, yanked the jade pendant off his waist, and snapped the cord without hesitation.
The jade was warm and smooth—clearly a good piece.
“Here.”
She casually tossed it to the thug.
“That’s ten taels. For the rest, go ransack his house. You should be able to make up most of it. If it still isn’t enough…”
She gave a dark, chilling smile, her gaze sweeping over Liu Ziqing once.
“Sell him to the Southern Pleasure House. With that delicate skin and tender flesh, there should be some customers with… special tastes who’d like him.”
Liu Ziqing shuddered violently. His eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot from fear.
The thugs took the jade pendant to verify it. One of them grinned.
“Lady Su is straightforward! But this jade only covers the interest. As for this person…”
“Do whatever you want with him,” Su Jinxiu said casually, brushing dust off her hands. “Just make sure he never appears in front of me again to annoy me.”
She didn’t even spare the unconscious Liu Ziqing a second glance as she turned and left.
The crowd instinctively parted for her, their eyes filled with awe. When did this Su family girl become so ruthless?
Su Jinxiu walked to the wheelchair and pushed Huo Chen forward.
“Is it dealt with cleanly?” Huo Chen’s voice remained flat, emotionless.
“Trash like that—looking at him once is enough to dirty my eyes,” Su Jinxiu said, pouting. “What a pity about that jade though. If I’d gotten it, I could’ve exchanged it for a couple of catties of pork ribs for you, husband.”
Huo Chen said nothing.
But the moment Su Jinxiu turned him around, the corner of his lips lifted almost imperceptibly.
This woman was not only greedy, but also vindictive.
Not bad.
With those three taels of silver, Su Jinxiu finally had some backbone. She went to the grain and oil shop first, buying twenty catties of fine rice, ten catties of white flour, and a jar of rendered fat. In times like these, without oil in the stomach, life was unbearable.
Passing by a clothing shop, she hesitated, then went in and bought a bolt of coarse black cotton cloth and two catties of cotton.
“Husband, your clothes stink. I’ll make you a new set when we get back,” Su Jinxiu said, placing the fabric on Huo Chen’s lap and measuring it.
Huo Chen looked at the rough black cloth. It couldn’t compare to the brocade silk he once wore, but it was indeed better than his current tattered clothes.
“You know how to make clothes?”
“Nope,” Su Jinxiu answered confidently. “But I know how to sew wounds. Clothes are just sewing two pieces of fabric together, right? Same principle.”
Huo Chen: “…”
Finally, the two stopped in front of a blacksmith shop.
This was Huo Chen’s request.
Inside, the forge burned bright red, and the sound of hammering iron rang deafeningly. Weapons and farming tools of all kinds hung on the walls.
Su Jinxiu originally wanted to buy a kitchen knife, but Huo Chen’s gaze bypassed the new weapons and landed on a rusty short blade in the corner.
It was a bone-slicing knife. The spine was thick, the edge slightly dull, but the curve was exceptionally smooth—clearly a well-balanced killing tool.
“That one,” Huo Chen said.
The blacksmith, a bare-chested man, chuckled.
“Good eye, customer. That blade was forged from a piece of ruined fine iron back in my early days. Not pretty, but extremely durable. Five hundred wen, take it away.”
Su Jinxiu’s heart ached as she paid, but since it was for Huo Chen, she treated it as an investment in survival.
Huo Chen took the blade. With a light twist of his wrist, it cut through the air with a dull whooshing sound. He wiped a trace of rust off the edge with his thumb, and in that instant, his expression turned focused—and dangerous.
Even though his body was crippled, the moment he held the blade, the murderous aura forged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood still made the blacksmith’s heart skip a beat.
“Let’s go,” Huo Chen said, sheathing the blade into his sleeve. The killing intent vanished instantly.
On the way back, the setting sun stretched their shadows long across the road. The wheelchair was piled with rice, flour, and oil, squeezing Huo Chen into a corner, yet he showed no displeasure.
Su Jinxiu pushed the cart, humming an unknown tune.
“Husband.”
“Mm.”
“That Liu Ziqing used to scam me out of a lot of money.”
“I can tell.”
“But I don’t like him anymore,” Su Jinxiu said, looking down at the top of Huo Chen’s head. “Now I think men like you—quiet, capable of fighting, and good-looking—are more pleasing to the eye.”
Huo Chen’s fingers tightened around the cold knife hidden in his sleeve.
The words sounded fake, but strangely, he didn’t find them offensive.
“If you want me to be your thug, just say it directly,” he said coldly, exposing her sugar-coated words.
Su Jinxiu chuckled. “We’re in similar situations. Mutual use… I mean, mutual help.”
Huo Chen didn’t respond. His gaze suddenly shifted toward the swaying grass by the roadside, his eyes narrowing slightly.
There was a pair of watching eyes there.