Chapter 268: Battle of Martial Order (Part 3)

Chapter 268: The Battle of the Martial Sequence (Part 3)

The blade's edge hovered mere inches from Huang Shiyuan's brow.

He could distinctly sense the metallic chill and the faint sting radiating from his brow.

A bead of blood trickled from beneath the blade, winding along his brow bone to trace a pale line across his cheek.

It finally settled into his mouth, agape from ragged breaths.

Not dead... not yet.

Li Jun turned his head to regard the sudden intruder.

Pale and clean-shaven, his portly frame draped in opulent silks, his exposed skin unmarred by any trace of alteration.

The least conspicuous feature, perhaps, was the copper badge hanging at his waist.

Li Jun's brow arched. "Jinyiwei?"

The stout man chuckled, lifting the badge to his chest. "Captain Zhai Mancong of the Jinyiwei in Laizhou. Guaranteed genuine."

A captain, at that?

Li Jun couldn't help but scrutinize him further: the swollen eyes, etched by wine, the layered jowls cascading down his neck, and a belly so protruding that, from above, his toes might be hidden.

Without that badge bearing the unique authentication mark, Li Jun could never have linked Zhai Mancong's appearance to a Jinyiwei, let alone a captain.

Zhai Mancong chuckled sheepishly. "Laizhou is under the Ming's jurisdiction, and we rarely have dealings here. Living off drink and merriment has left me in this state—forgive the embarrassment, Brother Li."

Li Jun offered no opinion on Zhai Mancong's explanation. "What sum did you mention, Captain Zhai?"

A fortune!

Zhai Mancong gestured toward the limp form at Li Jun's feet. "Right beneath your feet, Brother Li."

He's valuable?

A scion of the Huangshi Clan, one of the Four Great Native Groups in the Wogmin District, and the famed "Young Lamb" deputy chief—if his life isn't worth a price, then nothing in this world is.

So, Captain Zhai, you seek to purchase this criminal from my hands?

Li Jun's voice was indifferent, a flicker of lethal intent in his eyes. "Sell him back to the Huangshi Clan for profit?"

Zhai Mancong suddenly sensed that if he dared utter "yes," the XiuChun Blade would cleave his skull in the next heartbeat.

Of course not, Brother Li—you misunderstand. We are Jinyiwei; how could we barter with a criminal of such infamy?

The portly Laizhou captain spoke with fervor. "Under the radiant light of the Great Ming Laws, I stand opposed to evil itself!"

Li Jun's eyes narrowed. "Opposed to evil—then whence comes the wealth?"

Merit, Brother Li—great merit!

Zhai Mancong exclaimed, "This Huang Shiyuan is a wanted bandit under the Northern Pacification Command, his name etched in the Ministry of Punishment's 'Yellow Millet Criminal Realm'—surely you are unaware, Brother Li?"

As the words fell, he rubbed his hands awkwardly. "My oversight—I forgot you cannot enter the Yellow Millet Dream."

But all that matters is this: to me, the Wogmin is a deed of merit; to you, a fortune. That suffices.

You think I am in want of coin?

Zhai Mancong remained silent, his smile enigmatic.

At the "you tell me" expression, Li Jun's lips twitched, and he sighed inwardly.

He was destitute.

To be precise, Li Jun's purse had scarcely ever held coin.

From the muddied robes of Jiulong Street, to the Shudao Logistics Security Division, to his flight from Chongqing Prefecture.

Along this path, only blade and shadow, no fragrant carriages or beauties.

Li Jun recalled his sole extravagance, spent at the Chengdu Prefecture's Gongfang Si.

Though it was charged to the collective ledger, not a single coin had ever passed through his hands.

Li Jun often gave thanks that his martial path allowed him to seize his own remedies; any other sequence would have left him dead of poverty.

Old Li, I think we can negotiate. Otherwise, with your bare purse, how will you report to the Wogmin District? Surely you won't expect the household to cover your travel expenses on your first day? Even if you ride the Overlord's carriage, you can't feast on Overlord Chicken forever in the Wogmin District!

Ma Wangye rambled on through the transmission.

Though the words were rough, the logic held, and Li Jun wished to see how much this mastery of over a hundred points could fetch.

Then let us hear it, Captain Zhai—how much do you offer for this Wogmin?

Zhai Mancong beamed. "Three million taels of silver notes, every penny earned by my own toil, pure and untroubled—absolutely no burden!"

Clang!

The XiuChun Blade sang its own aria, slicing gashes into Huang Shiyuan's brow, deep enough to glimpse the other side.

This sight left Zhai Mancong trembling, his face ashen as a mourning son, frantically waving his hands. "Brother, pray, do not act rashly."

Li Jun sneered. "To offer such a sum for a Sequence Six—Captain Zhai, that's hardly honorable."

Brother Li, you're so impatient—let me finish my words.

Zhai Mancong wiped his brow, no longer dallying, and drew a silver metal tube from his sleeve, twisting it.

Sss.

A white sealing gas poured forth, quickly dissipating to reveal an injector loaded with crimson liquid.

The three million notes were merely for your medical expenses; this Six-Grade Martial Injector is the true price for Huang Shiyuan.

Zhai Mancong's face beamed. "Surely this shows sincerity, Brother Li?"

Three million notes plus a Six-Grade Injector—Li Jun and Ma Wangye exchanged a distant glance, understanding the depth in each other's eyes.

This venture could proceed, and this fat man had wealth!

Squeeze him dry, as you once did to me! Ma Wangye roared in anger.

Li Jun cast a reassuring glance, but before he could speak, Zhai Mancong preempted him.

I won't hide it, Brother—every penny I possess, and only to secure this captaincy would I part with it.

Amidst the stunned gazes of both man and armor, Zhai Mancong clutched his chest, stamped his feet, sighed long and short, even tears glinting at his eyes' corners.

If even this fails to satisfy you, Brother, I'm at my wit's end. Slay this Wogmin, and pretend I never came.

With that, Zhai Mancong made as if to depart.

Ma Wangye, I'll bet all my lovers—this fat man is acting, waiting for us to keep him. Despicable!

Li Jun answered with his eyes. "I know!"

Three years as magistrate, ten thousand snowflake silvers—how could a Laizhou captain have so little? Old Li, hold firm!

Yet Li Jun slowly shook his head, ignoring Ma Wangye's counsel, continuing to await a higher bid.

With a slight motion, he kicked the half-dead Huang Shiyuan behind Zhai Mancong.

Captain Zhai, the man is yours.

Zhai Mancong's half-turned body froze; still calculating how to handle Li Jun's lion's mouth, he hadn't yet reacted. After a daze, he cast a complex glance at Li Jun, clasped his hands, and a sincere expression crossed his face.

"Thank you, Li Zongqi."

This was the first time he had addressed Li Jun by his official title, though not the minor official of the Japanese civilian district, but the Zongqi of Chongqing Prefecture.