Chapter 17: Champion of Justice, Brimming with Righteousness

Page (1/3)

Waking up in the afternoon, Su Yi sat at the edge of his bed, pondering his next steps.

In his mind, the illusory map still showed a red dot slowly moving along Han River; according to the system’s instructions, he needn’t worry about the mission’s commencement for at least two more days.

Having acquired the “Whale Swallowing Method,” Su Yi realized that, thanks to the unique attributes of this cultivation technique, he could use this idle time to rapidly increase his strength.

But whom should he target? If he acted recklessly and wickedly like the demons of the sect, it would go against his own nature.

He pushed open the window and looked down from the fifth floor of the inn, observing the scenery: pavilions and towers, bridges over flowing water, porters and vendors, crowds of tourists—a scene of prosperity and flourishing times.

Yet beneath this prosperity, shadows inevitably lurk. This is unavoidable even in the highly civilized modern world.

Su Yi had his answer.

He went downstairs, returned the borrowed steelyard to the inn, tipped the attendant, and inquired about the local situation. Then, Su Yi strode out through the inn’s main gate.

At a bank across the street, Su Yi exchanged most of his gold and silver for banknotes. For someone used to going out without a wallet in the modern world, carrying cumbersome precious metals was truly inconvenient.

Leaving the bank, Su Yi walked four or five miles along the main street, then stopped a street vendor pushing his cart.

The vendor’s single-wheeled cart was laden with wooden, clay, and cloth toys. A noisy cluster of children surrounded him. As Su Yi, carrying his sword, approached, the children were either pulled away by their parents or suddenly recalled their elders’ warnings and dispersed.

Noticing a sword-bearing martial artist staring at him, the vendor grew tense and spoke with a quivering voice, “Sir, what business do you have with me?”

Su Yi took out a piece of broken silver and placed it on the cart. “Sorry to disturb your business. No need to be nervous—I just want to ask you a few questions.”

Seeing Su Yi’s gesture, the vendor relaxed a little, though he still hesitated to take the silver.

“Sir, what would you like to know?”

“Are you a local resident?”

“Yes, sir. My family has lived here for three generations, selling toys to make a living.”

“Do you need to pay protection money to anyone for selling goods on the street?”

The vendor looked uneasy. “Well—”

Page (2/3)

“Don’t worry. I just want to talk with that person. It won’t harm you. We’re strangers; no one will know you gave me this information.”

The vendor hesitated for a long time before gritting his teeth and answering, “Old Master Zhou Kui’an of Shuifang Street. I pay him protection money every month.”

“Oh? Does Zhou Kui’an have anyone above him?”

“I heard his brother-in-law’s uncle is the inspector of South City.”

“How skilled is this Master Zhou?”

“Master Zhou’s martial arts are famous on Shuifang Street. In his youth, a group of ten or so strong men couldn’t even get close to him.”

…

After a series of questions and answers, Su Yi finally asked,

“Where can I find this Master Zhou now?”

“At this time, he should be at Widow Li’s place.”

“How do I get there?”

…

In a courtyard somewhere in Jiangting City.

Zhou Kui’an awoke to find the soft arms and legs of his beloved wrapped around his own, her dark hair tickling his nose.

He gently extricated himself from her embrace, left the bed, and made himself a cup of fragrant tea in the outer hall, then sat on a lounge chair in the courtyard, sipping leisurely.

As the renowned figure of Shuifang Street in Jiangting City, Zhou Kui’an had been a notorious rascal since childhood. As the saying goes, “Three days without a beating and he’ll tear off the roof; two days without a thrashing and he’ll stink up the place”—that described him perfectly. By his teenage years, brawling was a daily occurrence, and he often drove his mother half to death with worry.

In the eyes of those around him, Zhou Kui’an was formidable. When he was eight, a passing Daoist noticed his good bone structure and wished to take him as a disciple, staying at Zhou’s home for five days to teach him the basics. At first, the young Zhou was excited, but soon grew weary. His lazy temperament balked at the prospect of following his master to the mountain, where he’d have to observe strict rules and precepts. He stubbornly refused to go, so the Daoist, resigned, left him a secret manual and told him to practice diligently, promising to return in a year to see if he’d changed his mind.

A year passed, but the Daoist never returned. Decades slipped by, and he remained unheard of. The treacherous world of martial arts probably claimed him, thought Zhou Kui’an, who suspected the old master hadn’t even had time to inform his sect about his so-called disciple.

Perhaps Zhou truly had some talent for martial arts. Using the secret manual, he muddled through training, practicing sporadically, yet managed to develop impressive skills on his own. This made him unbeatable in street fights, earning him a formidable reputation and attracting a gang of local ruffians. Gradually, he became the local overlord.

Page (3/3)

After his mother died, Zhou Kui’an’s elder sister married the son of an oil merchant in the city. The merchant’s second brother was a city inspector—a minor official, but a crucial connection for a street thug like Zhou Kui’an.

Seizing the opportunity, Zhou shamelessly ingratiated himself, using both persistence and money to cement the relationship. Thus, he gained an official backing in Jiangting City, securing himself a position as an officer for handling minor affairs.

Though Zhou Kui’an looked burly and rough, his mind was shrewd and sharp. As a ruffian, he had his own principles; he would never commit truly heinous crimes or force decent people into depravity, lest he be violently dealt with by righteous martial artists. He steered clear of those he couldn’t afford to provoke, avoiding unnecessary entanglements. Within his domain in Jiangting City, he did his best to keep abreast of all rumors, so that nothing would catch him off guard or cost him his life in vain.

Beneath the city’s prosperity, Zhou Kui’an’s activities were limited to collecting protection money from street vendors and monopolizing the rental of carts and horses—petty schemes at best. He knew his own limits well, firmly avoiding any lucrative ventures that might attract envy or hatred. Though not a virtuous man, he generally treated others decently within his sphere. Occasionally, when families paying him protection money met with trouble, Zhou Kui’an would lend a hand or waive their dues for a few months.

Now, at thirty-nine, Zhou Kui’an understood the truth: reckless aggression and greed led only to ruin. Modest wealth and low-profile living were the keys to survival.

Even his relationship with Widow Li had been won through years of persistence and patience, never giving others an excuse to slander him behind his back.

Today, Zhou Kui’an enjoyed ample lands and a comfortable home, a beloved woman whose presence filled his small chamber with fragrance, respected by neighbors who both feared his power and appreciated his virtue. Life was altogether pleasant.

As he sipped his tea and hummed a tune in the courtyard, Zhou Kui’an watched, dumbfounded, as a figure vaulted over the wall and landed inside.

“Who’s there?” he exclaimed, springing from his lounge chair.

Standing beneath the bamboo in the corner was a tall, masked swordsman. From his garb and the blade in his hand, it was clear this visitor was up to no good.

“Did you come to the wrong place, friend?” Zhou Kui’an asked, shifting himself behind the lounge chair without betraying his nervousness.

“Zhou Kui’an, you have committed countless crimes and brought misfortune upon your neighbors. Today marks the end of your days!” Su Yi, masked, compared Zhou Kui’an’s appearance to the vendor’s description, then leaped toward him.

Seeing the masked swordsman charge, Zhou Kui’an hurled his teapot and kicked the lounge chair forward, then turned and dashed toward the house.

Su Yi’s blade flashed like lightning, effortlessly cleaving both the thrown teapot and the chair in two.

Hearing the strange sound behind him, Zhou Kui’an’s heart tightened. Though he hadn’t fought in years, his keen eye, honed through decades in Jiangting City, recognized the skill: to wield such a powerful blade, the swordsman must be no ordinary figure in the martial world.

He thought, “Good heavens, where did I ever offend such a master?”