Making Trouble

Jia Yanyong felt goosebumps erupt all over from their stares and grumbled something under his breath. "No, you are." The others spoke in unison. Jia Yanyong: "..." "Do you think Gang Leader Xu will dispatch people to reinforce them?" Ning Hui asked. "It hasn't reached that point yet," Xie Jiang said. "Still, with bandits running rampant outside the walls and attacks hitting other places too, he might very well send us to back up somewhere else." This fellow loved nothing more than chasing gossip, so his ear was always to the ground. Lin Zheyu was devoted purely to his martial training, Jia Yanyong couldn't care less about such things, and Ning Hui was engrossed in wine and women—their access to information was virtually cut off. Consequently, they gathered every day to listen to whatever rumors Xie Jiang had picked up. "Brother Lin, if we really get deployed as reinforcements, we'll probably be in the same squad. When that time comes, my little life will depend on you," Xie Jiang said, looking at Lin Zheyu. "Brother Jiang is being too polite. Just call me by my name—no need for 'Brother Lin,'" Lin Zheyu said, somewhat speechless. It felt rather awkward having a fellow older than him call him "Brother Lin." "Don't you educated folks say that whoever achieves mastery first is the teacher?" Xie Jiang grinned. "Your strength leaves ours in the dust, so what's wrong with calling you Brother Lin? If I weren't trying to save a shred of face, I'd even call you Big Brother Yu." Lin Zheyu rolled his eyes at him. After getting to know the group, he had discovered Xie Jiang's true character. Unlike Jia Yanyong, who was reckless and hated using his brain, Xie Jiang constantly hatched clever little ideas, though he was utterly shameless. Amid their idle banter, the storytelling began. The storyteller was an elderly gentleman of profound skill, his craft streets ahead of Lin Zheyu's. The patrons listened with rapt attention. "Fatty Xing actually turned over a new leaf? Coming to listen to a story?" Ning Hui curled his lip, gesturing toward a table not far away. The others looked over and spotted that familiar figure. "That fat bastard is definitely here to pick a fight again," Jia Yanyong said. "His trouble-making failed last time, so now he's brought a bunch of extra hands." No one needed to guess why Fatty Xing had shown up. This spoiled young master was hardly the type to appreciate a story; his entire day revolved around brawling, gambling, and chasing women. Seeing Xing Jinglong, Lin Zheyu couldn't help but frown. He had a feeling Xing Jinglong had come specifically for him. *Don't give me the chance, or I'll end you,* Lin Zheyu thought darkly, watching Xing Jinglong in the distance. Whenever someone harbored ill intentions toward him, his instinct was to eliminate the threat. It was never a good feeling to be targeted. It forced him to remain on high alert at all times, constantly guarding against dirty tricks. Ever since returning from outside the city, Lin Zheyu had set up a hidden sleeping pallet in the kitchen and slept there every night. ... On the stage, the storyteller held forth with practiced eloquence, and the audience below hung on his every word. *Bang!* Suddenly, Xing Jinglong brought his heavy palm down with a deafening crash. The entire teahouse fell dead silent. "What kind of garbage is this?" "You dare serve up this drivel? Get off the stage!" With a sneer of utter contempt, he glared at the storyteller, his face fierce and menacing. The sight sent cold sweat breaking out across the old man's brow. "Fuck! I'm going to teach him a lesson!" Jia Yanyong slammed the table and rose angrily. He was someone who naturally favored brawn over brains, his temper easily flaring up. Goaded by Fatty Xing's insolence, he was ready to strike. "Leave him be." "He came here intentionally to stir up trouble so you'd throw a punch." "Take a look at the men sitting beside him. One of them is a Viscera Tempering Realm expert. If we fight, we'll be the ones taking the fall." Lin Zheyu pressed down on Jia Yanyong's shoulder, having no desire to blow his own cover by fighting. His perception was extraordinarily keen, far superior to an ordinary Qi and Blood Realm powerhouse. Without an active test, even Qi and Blood Realm experts found it difficult to tell whether a martial artist was at the Viscera Tempering or Bone Tempering level. Both viscera refining and bone tempering refined the internal tissues of the body, offering little overt boost to essence, qi, and spirit. Some who reached the Viscera Tempering Realm appeared less vital and sturdy than burly Bone Tempering Realm fighters. Lin Zheyu, however, had cultivated the Turtle Breathing Art to the third layer, gaining an astonishing degree of control over his physical body. From subtle bodily details, he could discern the opponent's cultivation level. "Even a Viscera Tempering expert came along? Is this guy trying to start a war between two gangs?" Xie Jiang gasped in alarm. The rival gangs might bicker and brawl, but within the city walls they always kept things within bounds; clashes involving the Viscera Tempering Realm had never occurred. In Songyi City, martial artists of the Viscera Tempering Realm counted as first-rate powerhouses. If one stepped into the fray, it meant both gangs had torn off all pretense. "How did you know there was a hidden Viscera Tempering expert?" Jia Yanyong asked in bewilderment, quickly sitting back down. "I saw that man once while I was with Senior Brother Han. He's very strong, close to the peak of the Viscera Tempering Realm." Lin Zheyu fabricated an excuse, subtly gesturing toward a middle-aged man beside Xing Jinglong. The man was in his forties with a small mustache and an ordinary, unassuming face that easily slipped under the radar. "Despicable bastard." "I'll send someone to fetch Master Qiu. Let's see if they still dare act so brazenly!" Xie Jiang said angrily, waving over a subordinate to go summon help. ... From the corner of his eye, Xing Jinglong glanced toward Jia Yanyong's table. Seeing Jia Yanyong stand, a smug grin curled upon his lips. Yet moments later, his expression soured. Lin Zheyu had pulled Jia Yanyong back down. *Cowardly brat. He can swallow his pride even after such blatant provocation?* Xing Jinglong cursed inwardly. Having let Lin Zheyu slip away last time rankled him terribly. Inside the city, he couldn't openly make a move against him, lest it spark a conflict between the two families. However, manufacturing an excuse to pick a fight and give him a solid beating was perfectly fine. In a brawl, who could blame someone if a few arms or legs happened to break? So long as nobody died within the city, it wouldn't be a major issue. *Since you won't step up, I'll just keep stirring up trouble until this shop's business is ruined.* Xing Jinglong sneered. Wasn't Lin Zheyu reputed to repay kindness? He wanted to see if the boy could hold back through this. He picked up a plate from the table and hurled it toward the storytelling platform. *Smash!* The plate slammed against the wall behind the stage, shattering to pieces. Seeing this, the elderly storyteller turned deathly pale and hurried down from the stage.