Chapter 117: Spreading Rumors

Chapter 117: Spreading Rumors

Before the gates of the Tianfu Heavy Industry Group headquarters in Qingyang District, two terrifying severed heads, neither fully human nor fully beast, had been hung.

This earth-shattering news spread through every street and alley of Chengdu County within a single day.

Whether official or commoner, clerk or bandit, even those ordinary folk who 'rose with the sun and rested with its setting' on the assembly lines of major corporations—all knew of it in an instant, discussing it heatedly.

Even the underground black market, famed for its freedom and prosperity, grew suddenly desolate after the 'display of heads'. It seemed the various suppliers were deliberately reducing transactions, bracing for market shock.

The foreigners, usually thick as carp crossing a river in Shenghua District, all holed up in their hotels; the gangsters who ran rampant in Jie District reined themselves in considerably at the hint of the Garrison Guard.

From the Followers of the Sequence down to ordinary folk, everyone sensed a tension, a prelude to the coming storm.

Chengdu County, New Policy District.

By this hour, past the time for the scattering of the shift, this teahouse, nestled not far from the Chengdu Prefecture Yamen, was at its most clamorous.

At the stove before the teahouse door, the furnace fire roared; over a dozen long-spouted copper kettles hissed and spat steam, whining low.

A teahouse that still burned firewood to brew tea was exceedingly rare in all Chengdu County; only in an administrative district like New Policy, where even the commoners carried three parts 'official air', would such a thing be preserved.

The waiter, unable to afford synthetic skin, simply bared a worn metal arm, clutching scalding copper kettles as he shuttled through the hall.

Whenever he saw a patron wave, he strode forward at once, hoisting the kettle high; a steaming arc of water shot from the spout, landing precisely in the tea bowl, not a single droplet splashing the table.

Here there were no bar's seductive neon lights, no ambiguous atmosphere to set the imagination alight.

The patrons, too, were mostly 'labor slaves' clad in modified Ming-style robes of coarse hemp, yet the atmosphere was extraordinarily lively.

Amidst the sea of heads, gasps erupted from time to time. Whenever this happened, the speaker would hold his head high, chest out, affecting the air of a commander directing the masses.

As if this place were the Chengdu Prefecture Yamen, and he the Magistrate wielding absolute power.

"Quiet down, all of you! Do you know what happened at Tianfu Heavy Industry?"

Amidst the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, a man with shifty, rat-like eyes lowered his voice to speak.

Court affairs, military matters, jianghu intrigues, and the romantic scandals of the Teaching Workshop—these had always been the favorite topics of teahouse-goers; how much more so when the rat-eyed man spoke of the hottest affair in Chengdu County right now.

In a flash, the teahouse fell utterly silent.

Officials great and small held their breath in rapt attention, nodding with exaggerated compliance.

"Then do you know the identities of the owners of those two heads?"

The rat-eyed man wore an expression of profound mystery, selling the suspense, instantly setting the countless heads surrounding him bobbing up and down.

"I'll tell you—they were the personal maids of the Young Master of the Wu Clan, one of the only two Confucian aristocratic houses in Chengdu Prefecture. The truly 'personal' kind."

The air in the teahouse froze for a moment, then boiled over violently.

"You're pulling my leg? What status does the Wu Young Master have, to pick two women that ugly as personal maids?"

"Right, I wouldn't take them if you gave them to me. You're talking nonsense."

"He's just spouting bullshit, doesn't know jack shit, talking out his ass."

The rat-eyed man waved his hands frantically to calm them, barely regaining control, and snorted disdainfully: "You mud-legged peasants understand a hammer? What beauties haven't those young masters seen? Their tastes are spoiled rotten, so naturally they like playing with things we can't even dream of."

"Besides, I heard these two maids didn't have just one face, but two visages—human and beast. Think about it."

The man raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, "You all think real hard."

Hiss.

A collective intake of cold breath swept through the teahouse.

Someone interjected, "Then who's that badass, daring to kill the Wu Scion's maid?"

The rat-eyed man, now the undisputed 'speaker' of the teahouse, smiled triumphantly. "Good question! Let me ask you this—in our Chengdu Prefecture, who can wrestle with the Wu Clan besides that Lord Magistrate?"

"The Gu... the Gu Clan?"

"Hit the nail on the head! A while back, the Shu Road Logistics headquarters was bombed—rumor has it the Wu Clan did it. Heard even the owner of Shu Road Logistics was seized, still missing, alive or dead unknown."

The rat-eyed man lowered his voice, "This time, it's the Gu Clan's counterstrike. One slap to the face, one strike at the heart. Both houses are ruthless."

Eyes all around bulged round; the secrets this man spoke were things they had never heard.

For a moment, every face flushed red, spirits high with excitement.

Those listening most eagerly grabbed hot tea and gulped it down, scalding themselves until they grimaced, yet daring not make a sound.

"Why are these two aristocratic houses fighting?"

"Humans and beasts are really no different; struggle is nothing more than for a mouthful of food. As for this food..."

The rat-eyed man suddenly snapped his mouth shut, squinting with feigned nonchalance, tapping his fingers lightly on the empty tabletop before him.

The surrounding patrons, hooked on the tale, instantly understood his meaning; four or five voices immediately hailed the waiter, sending over a dazzling array of tea snacks.

The man seized a crisp, fried flatbread, took a vicious bite, drank half a bowl of tea, and only then, amid the crowd's eager anticipation, spoke leisurely: "What could make two houses fight like this? Only official position."

"The court's recommendation process starts in these very days; when the inspection team arrives, that's when the real knives come out!"

The rat-eyed man sipped from his tea bowl, then suddenly let out a long sigh.

"It's just us ordinary commoners who suffer most—gods fight, and the pond fish suffer. How many innocents died in the Shu Road Logistics explosion last time? This time, I fear rivers of blood will flow again."

A bone-chilling chill suddenly rippled through the lively teahouse; the listeners, just moments ago so enthusiastic, all blanched—some numb, some terrified.

Only a very few showed anger, grinding their teeth.

Amid the chaos, someone still wanted to press further, but discovered to their shock that the rat-eyed man had vanished at some unknown moment.

In an unnoticed corner of the teahouse.

Huang Yaozong, dressed no differently from a common 'labor slave', watched the tableau of humanity before him, smiling at the similarly hemp-clad old man beside him: "My Lord, how is this man I found?"

The old man stuffed a snack into his mouth and nodded: "Good patter. A man of the Vertical and Horizontal School?"

Huang Yaozong nodded, "The Ninth of the Vertical and Horizontal, a Liaotu Disciple."

"'The commoners are mired in mud, the world a prairie fire; light the blaze, burn the city—only I am Vertical and Horizontal.'"

"Not a bad slogan," the old man brushed food crumbs from his hand, sneering, "But still just a pack of petty thieves, sneaking rats in the night."