Why Mention an Outsider at a Time Like This?

A heavy weight pounded up the wooden stairs, making them groan beneath an unbearable load. So this pig even knew how to climb stairs... Barely two breaths later, the tusked boar hauled itself onto the second floor, shattering several steps along the way. Its small, fury-blazing eyes instantly locked onto He Lingchuan, who had risen from his seat. Diners, street peddlers, and waiters on the second floor scattered like birds caught in a gust. He Lingchuan hadn't stepped in to save the hunter purely out of outrage at a wild beast mauling people in broad daylight, nor merely out of a meddlesome urge to right street wrongs. In his eyes, the wild boar was enveloped in swirling black miasma, and clinging to its head were several tiny ghosts! Indeed, in broad daylight, these little specters dared to poke their heads out and glare at him, grinding their teeth and scowling—even if direct sunlight wasn't falling upon them. Earlier, it was these creatures that had set their sights on the hunter's two blue sheep, goading the tusked boar into the attack. No matter where such ghostly vermin appeared, it was bizarre. The little ghosts pointed at He Lingchuan, and the tusked boar lowered its head in a vicious charge. Its momentum was so violent that the floorboards splintered underfoot. He Lingchuan sidestepped two paces. Yet the tusked boar proved remarkably nimble; planting its stubby legs, it adjusted course and barreled straight toward him anyway. He Lingchuan, however, moved with even greater agility. His steps pivoted almost flush against its flank, his right hand slipping naturally onto the hilt of Fusheng. A cold gleam flashed. He Lingchuan sprang backward. Unable to arrest its charge, the tusked boar crashed onto its side and skidded across the floor. At the same instant, its head parted from its body. Hot, rank pig blood splattered across the floor. The little ghosts and the black miasma clinging to the beast dissolved into smoke, vanishing without a trace. A waiter cowering in the corner pointed at the boar's carcass and stammered, "Baoya! Sir, you killed Baoya!" "This thing is called Baoya?" He Lingchuan picked up the boar's head and examined it closely. "Don't mention it." Come to think of it, right after he had thrown his daggers, he seemed to have heard someone shout "Come back!" But amidst the street clamor, he hadn't paid attention, and the boar—stung by pain—had paid even less heed, charging straight for him. "That's Third Master Gan's hunting pet!" Third Master Gan? He Lingchuan paused. This foul beast had an owner? Footsteps echoed below, and a crowd poured through the vestibule and rushed up to the second floor. It was the very company that had just galloped through the streets in fine silks and astride spirited mounts. Seeing the tusked boar decapitated, the young leader's pupils dilated in shock, quickly giving way to outrage. "How dare you kill my spirit pet!" "This was your pet?" He Lingchuan tossed the boar's head to the youth's feet and wiped his blade with a handkerchief. "You didn't keep it on a leash. How was anyone supposed to know it belonged to you?" A guard behind Third Master Gan stepped forward right on cue and barked, "You dare run wild in Wuze, boy? Do you have any idea who you've offended!" The entourage swarmed forward, encircling He Lingchuan. Whether a fight actually broke out was secondary; intimidating the other side with sheer numbers and swagger was paramount. On this point, He Lingchuan had once been an expert himself. Third Master Gan raised a hand to halt his men. "My Baoya was a spiritual breed from the Demon Nest Swamp. It rendered great service helping the county eradicate monster pests. I'm not an unreasonable man, but we will settle this account properly." "Does clearing out a few monsters balance out murder?" He Lingchuan glanced out the window. "You let your pet run amok. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd have a human life on your hands. How do you intend to thank me?" Down on the street, the hunter struggled to his feet and stumbled over to find his hound. Blood seeped from several wounds across his body, the worst being a round puncture hole through his leg. He had hunted in the mountains and faced wild boars before; earlier, he had clamped his hands around the boar's tusks with all his might, refusing to let them pierce his torso. His hound, however, had not been so fortunate. It lay on the ground, its legs twitching. The hunter stroked it gently a few times. After two choked whines, the dog breathed its last. "Baoya lived in Wuze for six years. Would it kill a man so easily? At most, it was teaching him a lesson." Third Master Gan's face was frosty. "If Baoya injured him, I'll pay compensation. But you killed my spirit pet—how will you compensate me?" He Lingchuan feigned ignorance. "And who might you be?" A guard behind Third Master Gan chimed in, "You dare throw your weight around in Wuze without even recognizing our Third Master Gan?" He Lingchuan nodded. "Gan the Third, from the Gan Merchant Guild?" Third Master Gan lifted his chin. "A mere merchant clan, without a single official in government, and you think you have the right to act so arrogant?" When Young Master He had run rampant through Blackwater City, his backer had at least been the local Prefect. "I'm more than enough to handle you." Third Master Gan's face darkened. "Tie him up and drag him to the county yamen!" The guards answered in unison and moved in to seize him. This little dandy actually wanted to hand him over to the authorities—how law-abiding of him. Of course, whether going to the yamen meant "due process" was another story entirely. He Lingchuan struck a backhanded blow across one guard's nose, sending him to the floor clutching his face in agony. When the guard opened his eyes, he found the gaping maw of the severed pig head staring right at him. Another guard was seized by the neck and had his forehead slammed three times against a table. A different table, naturally. He Lingchuan's own table still had wine and food left; he couldn't have it wrecked. He asked with a chuckle, "Do you know who I am?" The trickiest part of being an arrogant dandy was that there was always a tiny chance of running into a hard nail—a fact he knew intimately from experience. The very hard, very long kind. Striking without even probing the other party's background proved this boy was still hopelessly green. Just as Third Master Gan's face turned livid and he prepared to speak, two servants sprinted up the stairs. "Third Master!" they cried, leaning in to whisper a few words into his ear. Third Master Gan's complexion changed drastically. He waved his hand. "Stop! Everyone, stop!" The guards were all too glad to step back. Third Master Gan shot He Lingchuan a vicious glare and delivered that time-honored cliché: "You just wait, boy. I'll deal with you later!" With that, he led his men in a hurried retreat down the stairs. He Lingchuan walked to the window and looked out. Third Master Gan vaulted onto his horse and galloped frantically toward home. Only after the rowdy crowd had cleared out did the waiter dare approach to right the tables and gather broken dishes. He whispered to He Lingchuan, "Sir, you should leave quickly. When Third Master Gan comes back, things will get ugly." He Lingchuan retrieved his throwing daggers from the boar, wiped them clean, stowed the carcass into his storage ring, and returned to his seat. Pouring himself a cup of wine, he said, "What's the rush? I'm not finished eating." A moment later, the shopkeeper came up as well, bowing deeply with hands clasped. "Honored guest, we won't charge you a copper. Please, just leave." "So generous?" He Lingchuan asked in surprise, gesturing around. "The smashed bowls, the frightened customers—you're going to shoulder those losses yourselves?" "Well, you... you..." *Are you going to pay? Are you really that generous?* The shopkeeper decided to speak plainly. "Third Master Gan is a formidable man. Neither you nor we can afford to cross him. For safety's sake, please leave." "I'm still waiting for someone." He Lingchuan set two gold ingots on the table. "Don't panic. If the Gans don't pay up this amount later, these two ingots are yours." Seeing his calm, unbothered composure, the shopkeeper's sigh caught in his throat. He looked from the gold ingots back to the young man, not daring to say another word. He Lingchuan asked him, "Does that tusked boar always rampage through the streets like that?" "Third Master Gan often parades it through town. It's injured people several times, but the Gans always paid money to settle the matter." "Has it ever eaten anyone?" "N-no, at least none that we've heard of," the shopkeeper lowered his voice. "That tusked boar used to be exceptionally vicious and couldn't be brought outside; I heard it even mauled two Gan family servants. But a few months ago, Third Master Gan managed to tame it until it obeyed his every whim. A while back, after the Emperor's Flowing Dew, monsters ran rampant along the official road, and this tusked boar even helped the county clear them out. Third Master Gan boasted endlessly about it; everyone in the county knows." "All right. Bring me another jar of wine." As he went back downstairs, the shopkeeper made sure to instruct the waiter to clear away all the surrounding tables and chairs. *** The eyeball spider remained safely tucked inside Manager Zhao's belt, riding along with him back to the Gan family estate. The He family's aesthetic taste had always been refined. Having lived at home for so long, He Lingchuan hadn't thought much of his own residence. But compared to the Gan estate, the He residence was exquisitely tasteful, understated yet opulent, showing off Madam Ying's impeccable standards. To put it simply, it was all about showing off with effortless elegance. The Gans' architecture, furniture, and decorations, on the other hand, were lavish to a fault. Even the massive pillars were traced in gold leaf, as if terrified someone might fail to notice their wealth. Even the begonias in the garden were clustered into dense seas of blossoms, emphasizing fullness and extravagance at every turn. It was like a long scroll where every inch was drenched in heavy, saturated ink without any light washes or breathing room; once completed, it was merely an overwhelming, stifling mess devoid of true beauty. Now, this veritable mansion was enveloped in a pall of grief and gloom. Even the servants wore expressions of bewildered anxiety. The pillar supporting this household had just collapsed. The moment Manager Zhao stepped back into the Gan residence, he was intercepted by an old maidservant from Old Mistress Mao's quarters. "Where did you go just now? The Old Mistress barely woke up before crying herself unconscious again!" "Has the physician left?" When Manager Zhao had delivered the tragic news earlier, Old Mistress Mao had frozen, shrieked "My son!", and dashed headlong toward a pillar so fast that no one could intercept her. Yet the old lady hadn't been injured—because she had fainted a step short of the pillar and collapsed before making impact. "Not yet. Seeing her faint, he prescribed another formula." Immediately after, a flurry of petty chores came crashing down, leaving Manager Zhao without even a moment to take a sip of water. Chief Steward An Xing had perished alongside Master Gan, and with the Old Mistress bedridden and unconscious, it seemed he was the only one left to manage affairs. Though exhausted, Manager Zhao found that the feeling of issuing orders was quite agreeable. If the Gans didn't appoint Luo Xun'yi as chief steward and chose him instead... Before his reverie could drift any further, the door to the Old Mistress's room opened, and Second Master Gan emerged with red, swollen eyes. "Second Master, please accept my condolences." Second Master Gan gave a muted grunt and called for an errand boy to bring water. Upon hearing the grim news of his elder brother and seeing his mother collapse, he had shed many tears. Manager Zhao hurried forward to consult him. "Second Master, should the wake be held in White Deer Hall or in front of the ancestral shrine?" "White Deer Hall, I suppose." Second Master Gan hesitated. "No, in front of the ancestral shrine." "Understood." "Wait, let me think... White Deer Hall after all," Second Master Gan sighed. "I need to hurry and paint a full-length portrait of Eldest Brother to hang in the hall for mourners to pay their respects." Manager Zhao asked again, "Eldest Master perished in a distant land, so by custom, a soul-soothing ritual must be performed. Which master do you think we should invite?" "..." After much back-and-forth, he finally settled these matters with Second Master Gan, then hesitated before adding tentatively, "By the way, the caravan brought someone back from the Demon Nest Swamp this time. He was entrusted by the Spider Queen to..." Before he could finish, Second Master Gan waved an impatient hand to cut him off. "Why bring up an outsider at a time like this?"