The old beggar slowly got up from the ground and staggered out of the back alley. Wen Heng watched him disappear at the entrance of the alley. After a long time, the driver who delivered the medicine asked out of doubt, "Little brother... What's the point of you doing this?"
"It's nothing," Wen Heng didn't want to talk more, shook his head and smiled, "Just be kind to others."
He quickly unloaded the medicinal materials and sent them to the small warehouse in the backyard. The medicine delivery man looked at the calluses on his hand with the sword in his hand and the subtle lines under his robe. It was difficult to connect him with the words "being kind to others". People can't be seen."
When he returned to the front hall, the shopkeeper asked the abacus without raising his head, "Why did you go for so long?"
Wen Heng walked over and quickly explained what had just happened.
The shopkeeper is an old man who has been in Zhanchuan City for more than ten years. Naturally, he knows the benefits and benefits. He is even more surprised that Wen Heng, a fledgling boy, can quietly settle the matter. "Very good, very good." He took out a wooden sign from the counter and handed it to Wen Heng, and said, "Go out and hang this on the door."
The wooden sign was engraved with a distinct emblem, which was the symbol of the Chunjun faction. Wen Heng glanced at it, and went out to hang it without saying anything.
The beggars in Zhanchuan City, as well as some Yexianglangs and buskers who walk the streets and alleys, all belong to the "One Money Gang". This gang started out as a group of poor people to protect themselves, but it changed its flavor after it took shape. The main business of the "One Money Gang" is begging and performing arts, and their side business is touching porcelain. One day, when they want to deceive people on a whim, they send a beggar to sit outside the front door or back door of this house, and don't leave without giving money. If the host's family forcibly evicts them, they will encounter all kinds of troubles in the next few days: feces are splashed in front of the door, paper money is floating in the backyard, or even a grimace suddenly falls from the top of the head while eating. In short, how disgusting people come, until the owner is forced to be unable to bear the bankruptcy and avoid disasters, this matter is not over.
There is no good way to deal with the "Yiqian Gang", unless they recognize the meaning in time when they touch the porcelain, give more money to send away, or like Wen Heng, first give a warning, and then give five cents of money - five homonyms" "Wu", this is to show the backers behind, and then politely send people away. As a bottom-level Jianghu gang, the "One Money Gang" didn't want to provoke the martial arts sect. After knowing that this stake was difficult, they would naturally retreat.
The Luming Escort also encountered this kind of blackmail when it first opened, and it was a coincidence that Wen Heng was in the escort that day. At that time, neither he nor Fan Yang understood the rules of the rivers and lakes, and never thought about breaking the bank and avoiding disaster. After retrieving a dead dog from the water tank in the courtyard, Wen Heng said to Fan Yang, whose face was ashen with anger: "This kind of person is nothing but troublesome, you can either be tough to the end or be more difficult than him. , there is only a thousand days to be a thief, there is no reason to prevent a thief for a thousand days."
Fan Yang asked, "What do you think the son should do?"
Wen Heng said: "Take this opportunity to give the Luming Escort Bureau a good reputation. These beggars are mediocre in martial arts, but they rely on a lot of people, so it shouldn't be difficult to catch them. You lead people to guard the door, come and catch one, save enough Ten were sent to the woods outside the city to be hanged, and asked them to take money to redeem the people."
"... Young Master," Fan Yang said cautiously, "What kind of money do these beggars have, are they willing to come to redeem them?"
Wen Heng laughed and said casually: "Money is not a problem, the important thing is to let them know that this time they can still buy their lives with money, and if they dare to reach out to us, this hand will not want to go back."
Fan Yang felt a chill on the back of his neck from his laughter and was awe-inspiring. He still remembered that Wen Heng used to have no access to two doors, and usually had little chance to contact these things. He was generally peaceful and compassionate; however, since he fled from his family, he has rapidly grown into a ruthless person, and he has cultivated until now. He had to talk and laugh to kill invisibly, and he didn't know what the Chunjun faction taught him.
The Luming Escort Bureau, as a first-time rafter, really pushed the Yiqian Gang to the point of death. A few days later, Wen Heng received Fan Yang's biography on the mountain. He heard that the Yiqian Gang gang leader came to the door to apologize in person, with a humble attitude. After releasing the jerky from the people in the woods, they were willing to settle down and walk around the Luming Escort Bureau from now on.
It was only later that Wen Heng learned that there are other ways to send a money gang, but when he was young, he just did what he said and didn't think about it so much; now that he encounters such a thing again, he can be as skilled as a veteran, not moving. Sword, a few words gently and skillfully send a trouble away.
In the rivers and lakes, whether involuntarily or with the flow, thinking that they have walked out of the water, they are actually soaked in this flood of water, but some people have already dived into the bottom of the water, and some people are still floating on the water.
It was late at night, the store was closed and the rest of the people went back to their rooms to wash and rest. After a busy day, everyone was eager to pack up and lie down, but Wen Heng gently closed the door and walked to an open space in the backyard alone, wanting to take advantage of this rare free time to practice swordsmanship.
The sword is a thing, the more you use it, the smoother it becomes. Even if you don't practice it in a day, you will be born with your hands. Therefore, even if Wen Heng doesn't need to move the sword on weekdays, he will always take it with him to remind himself not to forget the feel. But it was impossible for him to wear a sword in the pharmacy running hall anyway, Wen Heng could only find these corners of time to do business.
Han Jian reflects the moon, the courtyard is full of sparkling light and shadows like water waves, Wen Heng felt that his muscles and bones that had not been active for a day were slowly being stretched out in the familiar sword move, and the majestic breath flowed inside the sea - as expected, people The commonality with the sword is that the more you forge, the better it becomes, and if you are too idle, it will rust.
The dark shadow on the eaves froze for a long time, and suddenly stretched out silently, like a big bird lowering its gloomy head and slowly spreading its wings—
He rushed towards the young man dancing swords in the courtyard.
The unique crackling sound of burning wood could be heard in his ears, the nose was filled with thick smoke, the wind was shrill but distant, Wen Heng's eyelashes trembled, and he woke up from a long coma.
His brain is not fully awake yet, but he also knows that there should be no uneven stone under him, and then he opens his eyes and looks around. As far as he can see, the dome is a dark, unreachable, and it should be a stone cave; however, there are two light sources. , one is the bonfire beside him, and the other is the white light not far away.
Wen Heng's body was sore, he got up from the ground with his arms, and subconsciously touched the scabbard at his waist, but it was empty. It was only then that he remembered that he had been practicing his sword well in the yard the night before, when he was suddenly attacked by someone, and as soon as he passed out, when he opened his eyes again, he was already in this ghost place.
"Are you looking for this?"
Wen Heng looked at the sound, and saw that the white light was suddenly blocked, and a one-armed man walked in against the light, holding two big fishes pierced by branches in his hands.
The fish seemed to have just been salvaged, its belly had been ripped open, and it was still dripping with blood along the way. The one-armed man carefully grilled the fish on the fire, then threw the iron sword from his waist to Wen Heng.
Wen Heng was smashed by the sword, but he couldn't care about the weapon that was lost and recovered, and said in a lost voice, "Is it you?"
The man laughed and said, "Yes, it's me."
The firelight illuminated his face, and beneath his gray and disheveled beard were a pair of gleaming eyes. There is a very long scar on his face, extending from the forehead to the other cheek, which is very terrifying, but the smile that is not a smile does not seem to be malicious. old beggar.
Many guesses flashed through Wen Heng's mind, and he subconsciously grabbed the nearest one: "Aren't you from the One Money Gang?"
The old beggar stretched his limbs by the fire: "Hey, what a penny is. No, no."
Wen Heng saw his weird behavior, and he didn't know where he got the confidence, so he asked tentatively, "I have no grievances or enmity with my predecessors.
"You are so talented, why are you willing to be mediocre in that drugstore?" The man narrowed his scarred eyes and asked curiously, "With your martial arts, it is also possible to be a direct disciple of the Chunjun School. Not difficult."
Wen Heng's heart froze slightly, and he felt that this person was not easy to fool, and instead of answering, he asked: "There are so many talented disciples of the Chunjun faction, why did the seniors only focus on me?"
The two went back and forth, testing each other, and watching out for each other. The old beggar sneered and said, "You brat, you are so young, and you have a lot of heart."
Wen Heng twitched the corners of his mouth and said coolly: "It's easy to say, as long as the seniors are willing to tell the truth, I will naturally treat each other frankly."
The old beggar suddenly burst into laughter, flipped the grilled fish on the fire, and said casually, "No, I don't want to hear your answer now. Anyway, as time goes by, there will be time in the future, and you will take the initiative to say it."
There seemed to be some kind of terrifying message in his words, Wen Heng stared at him for a moment in surprise, then suddenly ran wildly towards the hole not far away.
The distant sound of wind finally came to the front, and the wind was like a tsunami, mixed with fresh snow.
This time, Wen Heng was finally completely, completely stunned.
He was in the middle of the cliff, facing Baizhang ice, and under his feet was an empty valley with a deep frozen pool at the bottom. There are no exits on all sides, all of which are towering and dangerous peaks. The sun shines on the white snow, and when it melts, it reveals the dark rocks, which are also hard as iron and cannot be shaken.
This is a natural prison, and there is no escape from it. Not to mention that Wen Heng does not have martial arts, even if he comes here, it is impossible to guarantee that he will not step on the air and break his neck.
The monstrous anger grew at the sight of the wind, and it burned to the boil in his chest. Wen Heng took a deep breath of the cold snow, and his trembling hand held the hilt of the sword.
He strode back into the cave, and without saying a word, he drew his sword to hold the old beggar: "What on earth are you trying to do?"
The old man may have been relying on the thickness of the skin and did not take the sword as a threat at all. He focused on turning the grilled fish, making it heat evenly, and sizzling oil sprouts, while saying in a childish tone: "Forget it. Well, your sword is too dull to kill fish, let alone kill people."
Wen Heng's eyes were icy cold, his subordinates exerted strength, and the sword edge pushed another inch towards his flesh.
"The sword is like its master," the old beggar said quietly, staring at the throbbing flames, "You don't know martial arts, and even the sharpest sword is scrap metal in your hand."
"That's not necessarily true." Wen Heng gritted his teeth and said, "If I can kill someone, the old man might as well try it out for himself."
"Want to learn?"
"what?"
"Martial arts," said the old beggar, "I will teach you the real kung fu that can kill people."
Wen Heng's self-cultivation made him not rude even when he was furious to the extreme. He just glanced over the man's severed right arm and said bluntly, "Thank you for not being sensitive."
"Hey, what a good boy." The old beggar noticed his gaze, changed his face like turning a book, and said with a smile, "I've been hungry for two days, come and eat fish."