Chapter 318: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada! (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 318: The Locust Catching the Cicada! (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

The days were slipping away for the members of the Wudou Sect as they arrived in Shu Zhou.

They had originally supposed that their alliance with Liu Zhao Xue was to leverage the Liu family of Jingzhou against the mountain clans.

Yet they had come to Shu Zhou with another purpose—likely to forge an alliance with Liu Hong, plotting to create turmoil in Shu Zhou.

This time, had it not been for Chen Ye happen upon the situation in time, the first to discover the Wudou Sect’s intentions, the citizens of the city and its environs might have suffered tens of thousands of casualties, dying by no means of their own.

It was happening even now...

Chen Ye glanced at the sky, then at the mountain clansmen standing silently to his left and right, saying, "The Wudou Sect’s plans are grave. We must still guard against their next move."

Pei Zhe and Pei Qian exchanged glances and said in unison, "The young master need not beat around the bush."

"The plague differs from others—extremely malicious, capable of inflicting mass casualties in the briefest of times."

"I intend to notify some people now, so they may prepare in advance."

Pei Zhe nodded, "As it should be. The young master is free to go."

Pei Qian and the others had no objections.

But Pei Man Lu stepped forward and asked, "Sir, will you not come with us?"

Chen Ye shook his head, "You go first. I shall arrive shortly."

Bao Hao could endure so long, but the disaster refugees could not.

In simple terms, Chen Ye spoke briefly and then departed.

Pei Man Lu gazed at his retreating back, her smile growing wider, chuckling softly.

Beside her, the young girl Blue Yan Mi tilted her head, playing with the white snake coiled on her wrist, and said, "Man Lu Sister, Brother ‘Long Hu’ should not be named Liu Wu, should he? This appearance suggests a pseudonym."

Pei Man Lu glanced at her with delight, "Of course not!"

"Then what is his real name?"

"I shall not tell you."

"Man Lu Sister, once we resolve the Wudou Sect’s affairs, we’ll return to the mountains, won’t we?"

"And what of it?"

Zhuang Zhangling smiled slyly, "Yan Mei’s meaning is to inform your grandmother. It’s uncertain whether she’ll come down to see that ‘Long Hu’ herself."

"Ah?"

When Pei Man Lu saw Blue Yan Mi nod, her smile faded, and she lunged forward, grabbing her by the neck and cradling her head in her arms.

"Who dares speak so recklessly? I’ll let little flower flower bite you!"

"Unlikely, unlikely..."

Pei Zhe watched the two tumble and wrestle, yet made no move to stop them. Instead, he gazed up at the cloudless night sky and sighed, "The Wudou Sect... I hope they still exist after this."

Li Yun Hou glanced at Pei Qian, who was intently tending to the chrysalis before him, and whispered, "Third Uncle, you know the Wudou Sect best. Tell me about that Yan Jing Hai."

"What? Are you afraid of him?"

"Better safe than sorry."

"Hah, just follow young Qian into battle. Leave the rest to me."

Pei Zhe’s thin face twisted into a grin, and he revealed a small beetle crawling out from his nostril, inching its way along the wrinkled brow and cheek, up to his shoulder.

"Long time no see, old friend. Do you still remember the taste of killing?"

"Jeez!"

...

Two hundred miles west of Shu Zhou.

The bright moon hung high.

Silver light spilled across the mountains and fields.

Along the forest path, carts drawn by oxen and camels moved steadily forward.

Guards in black robes and conical hats stood beside the carts, their waists sheathed with blades, holding torches in their hands.

The flickering lights, like scattered stars, stretched along the winding mountain road for several miles.

Inside one of the rear carts sat Lin Zheng Hong leaning against the side, occasionally peering through the curtain at the procession outside, unable to hide his joy.

"My lord’s stratagem."

"We’ll take the water route out of the city to the west, then switch to mountain paths, bypassing the official roads and post stations, avoiding the city’s patrols."

Lin Zheng Hong glanced at the "Li San Yuan" seated in the innermost cart, paid him a respectful nod, and then asked, "My lord, the meeting place is still within the western pass. Is this not somewhat improper?"

Zhang Da Bao’s eyes were half-closed, his expression calm as he leaned back on the soft velvet pillow at the cart’s base, nonchalantly humming, "We only care about the silver. The rest need not trouble us."

He then glanced to the other side—a man dressed in fine silk brocade, with a thick beard, resembling a vulgar merchant.

"You say, is it not so, Wolf Six Lord?"

Liu Lang noticed the noble bearing of the old official, pinched his cheeks, nearly plucking out a few fake whiskers, restrained his laughter, and said stiffly, "No need to trouble you, grain transport, worry."

"We have our own methods!"

Lin Zheng Hong glanced at him, though not holding him in high regard, yet smiling graciously nodded, "Wolf Six Lord and your Kongque Wang flag possess formidable strength... I suppose I’ve been overcautious."

Truly idle.

Once the transaction was complete, the silver in hand, who cared if these bandits transported the grain out?

Compared to his restrained reserve, Liu Lang was more direct. He crossed his arms over a long knife wrapped in rags, scornfully saying, "Northerners, cannot be trusted."

Zhang Da Bao glanced at him, thinking, "Only he could speak such words."

Most people couldn’t pull off that kind of infuriating arrogance.

Liu Lang didn’t mind their thoughts. He leaned back in the cart, his body swaying with the mountain’s undulations.

About a minute later, the carriage came to a halt.

Zhang Dabao drew a deep breath and stepped down first, saying, "We've arrived."

Lin Zhenghong bowed politely and alighted last.

Liu Rong followed suit, scanning the surroundings, and a faint smile tugged at his lips—his disguise crudely made.

"Moon dark, wind high, not bad."

Lin Zhenghong moved beside him, smiling, "This matter is great. I hope the wolf Six gentleman will forgive us."

"After this transaction, we shall welcome your lordship to Shu Zhou anytime. At that time, we'll surely take you to the finest restaurant."

"Very well, very well..."

Liu Rong grinned and nodded for Zhang Dabao to lead the way.

Zhang Dabao acknowledged with a slight bow, smoothed his robes, and inhaled deeply, leading ahead.

Though he appeared calm throughout, his heart thrummed with nervousness now.

Ten million sheng of grain, worth tens of millions of silver taels at market price.

If anything went wrong, the losses would exceed what they could ever compensate for.

Even with Chen Yi's earlier reassurances soothing him, his chest still pounded wildly.

Meanwhile, Liu Rong remained unperturbed.

That very night, he and Zhang Dabao had instructed Lin Zhenghong and others to bring fewer guards.

The reason? Too many people meant too many eyes.

In truth, it was to facilitate their smooth theft of this grain shipment.

Soon, Zhang Dabao, Liu Rong, and others reached the front of the convoy, glanced at the serene mountains ahead, and shouted aloud:

"Guests arriving from afar, halt the carts at the pass."

The sound carried far and wide. From the quiet mountains, a voice thick with a local, sibilant accent—more pronounced than Liu Rong's—answered:

"The road to Shu is hard, harder than ascending to the Blue Sky."

Zhang Dabao bowed respectfully: "Li San Yuan arrives early, hoping these tea-sipping heroes will show themselves."

No sooner said than three figures emerged from the mountains, followed by over a hundred black-clad shadows weaving through the trees.

A rustle, a flurry of birds startled into flight.

Soon, the three figures approached, all dressed in local garb.

The leader eyed the mountain road's carts and sacks, awkwardly bumping into his own words in Wei dialect:

"Trade, let's trade."

Zhang Dabao met his gaze, slightly bowed, then gestured back: "Come, let the honored guests inspect the goods first."

The leader understood, leading forward, his sleeve slipping out a rusted pole.

One cart after another, they randomly checked the grain in the sacks, even biting a few rice grains as if testing them.

Lin Zhenghong, seeing their careful scrutiny, felt pleased rather than annoyed, leaning close to Zhang Dabao:

"Lord, they seem to value this trade highly."

"Of course—they're after a large sum of silver."

"If anything goes wrong, they'd be lucky to have enough heads to match Lan Duke Wang's chop."

"The lord speaks wisely..."

Zhang Dabao paid no heed to him, inching closer to Liu Rong without a sound, thinking, *If trouble arises, we must not be killed outright.*

Liu Rong, too, had set aside his earlier levity, gripping a long blade in his left hand, his right arm hanging loose—a ready stance to draw his weapon.

About a minute later, the three impostors—disguised disciples of Tian Shan—circled and returned.

"The merchant guild, very trustworthy!"

Zhang Dabao smiled: "Your praise is excessive. In trade, we trade fairly—we dare not play tricks before the King of Monkeys' banner."

Pausing, he asked, "Shall we proceed with the exchange?"

The leader, the "local," nodded: "Wei dynasty, banknotes."

Then he waved toward the distant mountains.

A similarly dressed figure in black, carrying a large crate, approached.

Lin Zhenghong watched eagerly, his face unable to suppress his glee.

Though this trade netted only ten million silver taels—still a heavy loss—it paled beside the pressure from the imperial envoy's office. Such a sum was trivial.

Moreover, they'd brought Shu grain from Liu's family, which would soon offset this loss with Liu Hong.

No rush.

As the local figure approached with the crate, Lin Zhenghong took a step forward to inspect the banknotes—only for Zhang Dabao to step in front of him.

"Let me handle this."

Lin Zhenghong blinked, then bowed awkwardly: "Lord, this is improper..."

Yet per the rules of Ji County's merchant guild, a wind-scout couldn't directly intervene in transactions. Only the guildmaster—himself—could authorize such action. This was also why he'd visited Cui Qingwu earlier.

Zhang Dabao paid no heed to protocol. "This trade was brokered by me. You try to claim credit? You'll fail."

"N-no..."

"Knowing you dare not, won't you step back?"

"Yes, yes."

Once Lin Zhenghong stepped back, Zhang Dabao exhaled in relief and moved forward to open the crate.

He dared not let Lin Zhenghong handle it.

Not to mention verifying the banknotes' authenticity—he'd already spotted the flaw with a single glance.

Liu Rong understood, whether willingly or not, subtly blocked Lin Zhenghong's view, leaning in impatiently:

"Banknotes, Wei merchants' bills, carried without issue."

Zhang Dabao nodded along, quickly taking and placing them, ensuring the ones behind didn't see the bills' true nature.

After several breaths, he snapped the box shut, locked it, and held it to his chest with a smile, saying:

"The count of silver ingots is no problem. I look forward to our next transaction under your royal banner."

Jin Peng nodded, "Then let's part ways here."

Then he waved again, and soon nearly a hundred black-clad figures surged from the woods, moving toward the wagons and camels.

Zhang Dabao turned and gestured for the guards to stay back, cradling the box as they drove the horses and camels westward along the mountain path.

Liu Rong, Jin Peng, and others stood rooted in place.

Lin Zhenghong glanced around, then edged closer with a lingering reluctance, peering at the box. "My lord, your precious body should be entrusted to me to safeguard the silver, should I not?"

As he spoke, he extended his hand.

Zhang Dabao hesitated, then handed over the box, cautioning, "Treasure must not be seen. We’ll open it once we return."

Lin Zhenghong assented thrice, took the box, and clutched it to his chest, his heart swelling with unspoken joy.

At last, peace was assured. He and "Li Sanyuan" need no longer face the merchants' wrath.

"My lord, this time only grain was traded. When might your earlier consignment of goods arrive?"

Before he could finish, Zhang Dabao fixed him with a cold stare. "Be silent."

Lin Zhenghong startled, then noticed the armed men beside him, and quickly bowed his head. "I deserve such treatment."

About a minute passed.

The wagons disappeared into the distance, leaving only the faint echo of hooves and wheels fading away.

Zhang Dabao signaled to Lin Zhenghong, "You go back first, accompanied by your guards. I and the honored guests will discuss another matter."

Lin Zhenghong hesitated a moment, then nodded, turning to lead the grain escorts toward the Chi River.

As he walked, he muttered to himself, "A true patrol magistrate, pretending to be the merchants' overseer, yet acting without proper protocol... How... how could this be?"

He sighed, thinking of his father, Lin Hua'an, and his shaky footing at the Jizhou branch.

Plus, this transaction had gone awry, and he’d yet to meet the merchants' key figures.

He could only wait for another opportunity to plan.

Just as Lin Zhenghong drifted into a hopeful dream, he reached the riverbank and spotted a swift boat cutting through the water.

He furrowed his brow and signaled his guards to stay alert.

"It’s past the witching hour. Ships shouldn’t approach the capital at this hour..."

Though uneasy, Lin Zhenghong need not have worried—his grip still held millions of silver ingots.

Yet the more he fretted, the worse it became.

Soon, the boat drew near, and before Lin Zhenghong could question them, dozens of masked men in armor leaped from the vessel.

Their arms strung with crossbows.

Arrows whistled through the night sky.

Lin Zhenghong’s eyes widened, his throat seizing as he bellowed, "Ambush!"

But the attackers, lost in their fury, hurled ceramic bottles at those who failed to dodge.

Whoosh—whoosh—

"Ah!"

"Careful—"

"Find death! Kill!"

The shouts and the whistling of arrows mingled with the shattering of porcelain, painting the night by the Chi River crimson.

Limbs severed, blood sprayed and arced through the air.

One guard after another fell beside him.

Panicked, he clutched the box and fled toward the distant "Li Sanyuan" and his companions.

Desperate cries pierced the night.

How long had passed? A minute? An hour? Or merely a few breaths?

Eventually, silence fell.

Lin Zhenghong ran on, forcing himself not to look back, his fear clawing at his neck.

Then he stumbled, his body slamming into something unseen, and he was thrown to the ground.

He scrambled up, clutching the box, ready to flee—only to freeze at the sight ahead.

His wide eyes met a figure in fine robes, hands clasped behind his back, smiling innocently.

It was Liu Hong’s son, Liu Taoyao!

Liu Taoyao glanced at the box in Lin Zhenghong’s hands and asked, "Mr. Lin, where are you headed?"

As he spoke, he approached slowly.

Lin Zhenghong backed away step by step, his features nearly creased into a mask of fury, shouting, "You—you tell me, do you know who I am?"

"I—I’m from the Jizhou merchants, the chief of Shuzhou’s administration!"

"You—you dare bring armed men to attack us?"

"Are you not afraid, Liu family?!"

Liu Taoyao’s smile never wavered. "Who else but us?"

"Is it me? Or those treacherous foreign bandits?"

"Ha! Don’t be foolish, Chief Lin."

"I’ve appeared before you, and neither you nor the silver in your hands shall escape my grasp."

Lin Zhenghong’s legs buckled, and he fell. His box rolled away.

He scrambled for it, "My—my silver..."

But before he could reach it, his legs were pinned. Struggling in vain, he could not move a muscle.

He looked up, and in an instant, a blinding silver light flashed before his eyes.

His vision went dark, and searing pain exploded through him.

He clutched his eyes, curling into a ball and wailing, "My eyes—my... you... the silver, I don’t want it—please, spare me!"

"Lord Liu, Duke Liu—please, have mercy!"

Liu Tao-Yao let out a soft laugh, making her way slowly toward him, lifting the box with a tentative weigh, leaning forward as she gazed down at him:

“If only this had happened earlier.”

“Now, it’s too late.”

“No, no, it’s not late. What do you want, I’ll give it to you! It’s not late!”

“You? For me?”

“A joke!”

“From the moment they designed me as the younger brother of the second son, there was always a way to kill you!”

The moment the words left her lips, Liu Tao-Yao drew her sword with a cold expression and drove it straight into Lin Zheng-Hong’s chest.

Lin Zheng-Hong clutched his eyes with one hand and gripped his sword hilt with the other, blood spurting freely, yet he trembled as he stammered:

“Y-You… I’m down there, wait for you…”

“Get the hell out of here and repent!”

Liu Tao-Yao slashed her sword in a wide arc, sending up a spray of blood droplets. She sheathed her blade and turned away without taking another look.

Only the figure of Lin Zheng-Hong remained, lying motionless in the pool of blood, staring up at the night sky with bloodshot eyes.

“Lord Duke, shall we go see what’s there?”

“No.”

“Those evil scoundrels will surely make the Kongque King’s flag vanish from this world.”

“We should head back to the mansion right away.”

“It’s already late. All this money will be wasted if we return now.”

“Yes…”

Meanwhile,

Zhang Da-Bao and the others, still dressed in the vulgar, vulgar foreigner’s attire, had turned their horses around and headed toward the Chishui River.

This was the upper reaches of the Chishui River.

Bathed in the bright moonlight, they could just make out the distant, winding mountains—those of the northern slopes of the Wumen Range.

The mountains rose steep and treacherous.

Zhang Da-Bao and his group pulled and hauled until they finally managed to move the carts and camel carriages to the riverbank.

Liu Rong looked around and muttered: “Wang Ji said the boats were arranged, so why aren’t they here?”

Zhang Da-Bao shook his head, equally puzzled.

Without boats, these people would have to wait here with their supplies, increasing the risks significantly.

Though this place was rarely visited, there were still some people who came here at dawn to hunt or gather medicinal herbs.

If they were spotted, it could lead to all sorts of trouble.

Beside him, Jin Peng couldn’t help but scratch his beard, his expression growing increasingly agitated.

“The shopkeeper won’t just disappear, will he?”

“With all these supplies, if anyone finds out, we’ll all be declared criminals by the authorities.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry—let’s—”

Before Zhang Da-Bao could finish his sentence, Liu Rong pointed downstream and raised an eyebrow:

“Well, I suppose they’re not coming. Just as I said… Huh?”

A chilling, almost imperceptible aura drifted over the water from the approaching boats, cutting Liu Rong’s words short.

His face darkened instantly. He gripped his knife handle tightly and spoke in a low, urgent tone:

“Everyone, stay alert. They’re not our allies!”

“What?!”

Before Jin Peng and the others from the Tian Shan school could grasp what was happening, a voice came from the boats:

“You’re not the vulgar foreigners, are you?”

“Wei people?”

“Oh my, oh my—didn’t expect the grain traders to be Wei bandits in disguise. Haha…”

Liu Rong waved a hand to signal his followers to prepare, then fixed his gaze on the approaching men and asked:

“Who are you?”

But he didn’t need to know their identities—he already sensed their danger.

The cultivator in front, and the immense, earth-shaking spiritual pressure emanating from them, sent a wave of cold through his veins.

It reminded him of his first encounter with Xiao Jing-Hong at the Wu Mountain Market.

Only this time, unlike that battle, Liu Rong’s strength had improved.

He wasn’t about to let them overpower him so easily.

“Who are you?”

“Younger brother, before asking such questions, didn’t your elders teach you to first report your identity?”

“I’m Liu Liu, surname Liu, number six!”

“Liu six?”

As the boats drew closer, their figures became clearer, and the men behind them also revealed their faces.

It was over a dozen black-clad warriors in scale armor, wearing black robes and hoods.

The leader studied Liu Rong, his eyes twinkling with mockery.

“Alas, I’m afraid I don’t recognize the style of your blade.”

Liu Rong’s expression shifted subtly. After observing them for a moment, he suddenly exclaimed:

“It’s you—The Five Poison Sect!”

The leader was taken aback. “You know we’re from the Five Poison Sect?”

“Hmph!”

“A bunch of orphaned dogs, hiding in the shadows, thinking they’re clever enough to stay hidden.”

Seeing the Five Poison Sect, Liu Rong knew there was no saving them, so he decided to have some fun.

As he spoke, he subtly gestured to his companions to prepare.

Especially Zhang Da-Bao, whose hand moved like a ghost’s shadow.

Zhang Da-Bao caught on, quickly pulling out a bamboo tube and igniting it with a flint.

A brilliant light shot straight into the sky.

The leader in black narrowed his eyes, staring at them and Liu Rong again and again.

After a moment, he finally spoke in a venomous tone: "What a clever and sharp-tongued youngster!"

Before his words had even faded, he turned into a black shadow and crossed a hundred zhang in the blink of an eye.

"Remember! The one who killed you—Five Poison Sect, Yan Jingchen!"

(End of chapter)