Qing Chen gently patted Young Master Zhao's shoulder, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Young Master Zhao, don't worry, I will definitely get you out of here. But, will you really give me everything? An official position, treasure, a beautiful woman?"
Young Master Zhao stiffened, his back teeth clenching until they ached.
A memory from six months ago flashed through his mind. Back then, Qing Chen didn't even dare to look him in the eye when speaking to him, a complete scoundrel at everyone's mercy.
But now, this scoundrel held his life in his hands, demanding a exorbitant price.
He thought to himself, "Wait until I get out, then I'll see how I deal with this lowly commoner."
But these venomous thoughts remained only in his mind; on his face, he had to force a smile that was more like a grimace:
"Yes, yes! As long as you get me out of here, I'll give you everything! I swear!"
Qing Chen looked at the resentment and helplessness in Young Master Zhao's eyes and couldn't help but sneer inwardly.
He could roughly guess what this tyrannical and cruel Young Master Zhao was thinking.
He knew that this seemingly powerful and sincere Young Master Zhao was undoubtedly filled with resentment.
Qing Chen, seeing the undisguised venom in his eyes, suddenly laughed: "You're probably plotting how to deal with this brothel ruffian who dared to overcharge, right?
Young Master Zhao's face turned deathly pale, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.
Qing Chen's voice pierced Young Master Zhao's heart, "I am the one who decides whether you live or die."
Young Master Zhao hadn't expected Qing Chen to be so blunt, hitting right where it hurt.
His legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground, kowtowing and begging for mercy.
"Alright, I've had my fill. I'm done playing with you."
Qingchen's voice carried a hint of mockery, as if he were enjoying Zhao Gongzi's fear and despair. "Heh, you piece of trash. The greatest value you can offer now is your life.
Remember this in your next life: don't mess with the wrong people. Otherwise, your fate will be even worse."
After obtaining this information from Diao Ye's trusted confidant, Tie Niu, Qingchen pondered for a long time and understood the crux of the matter.
Since the City Lord and Diao Ye were putting on a show, who was the key to this show?
Was it the City Lord and Diao Ye?
No, they were merely the pawns behind the scenes.
The real key was the City Lord's son, Zhao Gongzi.
Then, what if Zhao Gongzi died?
What if he died at the foot of Beiman Mountain, in front of the vanguard army?
What if his head was chopped off by the bandits of Beiman Mountain and used as a sacrifice for their flag?
Then, could this show still continue?
Qingchen seemed to already see that bloody and shocking scene.
Such a change was enough to completely shatter the City Lord and Master Diao's plans.
All their schemes and calculations would vanish like a bubble.
Therefore, Young Master Zhao.
He must die.
The moment this thought arose, a bloodthirsty light flashed in Qingchen's eyes.
He turned and walked back to Young Master Zhao, who was still crying and begging on the ground, unaware that Qingchen's hand was already on the hilt of the short knife.
"Swish—"
A flash of cold light, too fast to see.
Young Master Zhao felt a chill in his throat, like being stabbed with an ice pick, followed by a gush of hot blood choking his airway.
He tried to scream, but could only let out a hissing sound, his hands clutching his throat, blood seeping between his fingers.
Qingchen sheathed his knife, drops of blood dripping from the blade onto the ground, splattering tiny specks of dirt.
He stared at Young Master Zhao's wide, terrified eyes, like a dying fish, feeling no unease, only a strange sense of pleasure.
He stepped on Young Master Zhao's wrist to prevent him from grabbing, and with his other hand, he gripped the knife and slashed down the wound on his neck!
With a "snap," the head rolled to the ground, its eyes still fixed on Qingchen.
Qingchen pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and wrote a few words in blood—"Zhao Erhe, the corrupt official, I'll use your son as a sacrifice."
He pinched the paper with his blood-stained fingers and stuck it to Young Master Zhao's head, the blood making it stick firmly.
Then he untied a coarse cloth from his waist and wrapped it around the head; the cloth quickly became soaked with blood, heavy and heavy.
"Come in, all of you," Qingchen called out towards the door.
The Twin Eagles soldiers guarding outside rushed in, their faces turning pale the moment they saw the corpse on the ground and the cloth bundle in Qingchen's hand.
"Each of you, make a cut on this corpse," Qingchen said, pointing to Zhao Gongzi's torso on the ground. He twirled his short sword in his hand, the flash dazzling the eyes.
The soldiers exchanged glances, but dared not disobey Qingchen's order.
One by one, they stepped forward, their weapons trembling, and made a cut on Zhao Gongzi's corpse.
Zhao Gongzi's corpse was hacked to pieces, a gruesome sight.
Qingchen nodded with satisfaction. "Now, we're all in this together. We're all my dearest friends and family, brothers.
From now on, we'll share the good times and the bad!"
After saying this, he pointed to Zhao Gongzi's corpse and said coldly, "Throw this piece of trash off the cliff too, let him feed the wolves!"
Then, he ordered a soldier to hold up Zhao Gongzi's head and clean up the bloodstains and traces at the scene.
After dealing with the thatched hut, Qingchen led the group towards the tunnel entrance.
The tunnel entrance was hidden behind a thicket of bushes. He walked over and ran his fingers through the soil on the tunnel wall to make sure there were no footprints.
Then he ordered the soldier to sweep the bushes back to their original state with branches, making them look no different from the surrounding vegetation.
"Let's go." Qingchen led the way into the tunnel. It was pitch black inside, with only the smell of dirt and mold.
He pulled a tinderbox from his pocket, blew on it, and the faint light illuminated the tunnel walls, revealing the scratch marks left by those who had come before.
After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, light appeared ahead; the tunnel exit had been reached.
Outside the exit stood several soldiers of the Double Eagle Society, along with a dozen or so wounded soldiers who had survived the battle with the bandits that morning.
They were leaning against rocks, groaning; some had their arms in slings, others had blood-stained bandages wrapped around their legs.
As soon as Qingchen emerged from the tunnel, he glanced at the wounded soldiers, coughed, and said in a loud voice, "This time we wiped out the bandits' hideout, and everyone will be rewarded when we get back! But—"
His tone shifted, his eyes turning cold, "There are some things we can't let outsiders know."
He winked at the Double Eagle Society soldiers, then pointed at the wounded soldiers, making a throat-slitting gesture.
This was their coded signal from their time in the Double Eagle Society, meaning "silence."
The soldiers of the Twin Eagles Society were shocked upon hearing the order.
However, Qing Chen's command left them no choice but to obey.
"What the hell are you all standing there for? If we don't kill them, do you think you'll all live? If word gets out, you're all dead!"
With no other option, the Twin Eagles Society soldiers silently approached the unsuspecting soldiers.
"Kill!"
With a low growl, their blades plunged viciously into the defenseless soldiers.
Many of the soldiers were wounded.
They never expected their own comrades to turn against