A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 144 Blood Blade Gang

"No wonder, what would a steamed bun seller like you know?" Master Xi swallowed the bun, his Adam's apple bobbing. He picked up the rough bowl on the table, took a sip of water, which dripped from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't wipe it away. "The previous one died, and the court sent a new one. I heard he's not very old, still a child."

When he mentioned the word "doll," a disdainful smile appeared on his lips.

The weasel-faced rascal behind them chimed in, leaning closer: "A doll? Isn't that just there as a mascot? Just for show?"

Master Xi chuckled, snorting, "Mascot? Who knows? Anyway, the higher-ups said not to cause trouble or cause problems for the gang these days. All of you better behave yourselves, you hear me?"

Another rascal, the burly one, said in a deep voice, "Brother Xi, are we just going to stand here and watch? What trouble can a kid cause? I can slap him two miles away."

Master Xi glanced at him sideways, his eyes sinister: "What do you know? No matter how young they are, they were sent by the imperial court. The Zhenfu Division is a place we can afford to offend. Besides—"

'

He paused, lowered his voice, but his voice was loud enough to be heard even when he lowered it.

He looked around, leaned forward, and several hooligans joined him, their heads touching.

"I heard that this new chief inspector might just die a violent death at home one day. When that happens, who will remember whether we caused any trouble or not?" He finished speaking, leaned back, and had a meaningful smile on his lips.

The group of ruffians looked at each other and laughed, their laughter knowingly and without tacit understanding.

Amidst the laughter, the two tables of guests who had been there earlier had already finished their meal in a hurry, left their money, and left.

The copper coin landed on the table with a clinking sound. The porter and the middle-aged man didn't look back, walking as if they were avoiding a plague, their steps quick, and they disappeared around the street corner in the blink of an eye.

The old man's face grew increasingly pale, a sallow complexion tinged with ashen white, but he still forced a smile and stood by, serving the old man.

He didn't know where to put his hands; sometimes he gripped his apron, sometimes he let go.

The group of men, including Master Xi, ate steamed buns and drank porridge, chatting and laughing as if no one else was around.

When the man with the pointed face and monkey-like features told dirty jokes, several people laughed so hard they slapped the table and knocked over the benches, even shaking their porridge bowls.

Su Bai continued eating at his leisurely pace. He had already finished three baskets of steamed buns and two bowls of porridge, leaving only a few bits of porridge residue. He picked up the last piece of pickled vegetable from the plate with his chopsticks and slowly chewed it.

Sun Hou lowered his head, leaned closer, and whispered, "My lord, what they said—"

Su Bai shook his head slightly, the movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible, preventing him from continuing.

Sun Hou stopped talking, but his brows furrowed, forming a knot between his eyebrows.

He glanced at the group of hooligans, then at the smiling old man, and felt a pang of unease. The old man's back was hunched, and he stood there like an old tree bent by the wind.

Before long, Master Xi and the others finished eating.

The steamed buns were stacked high, the porridge bowls were empty, and the table was a mess, with bun wrappers, bones, and half-eaten pickled vegetables scattered everywhere.

Xi Ye stood up, stretched, and his bones cracked.

He dusted off non-existent dust from his clothes and walked away.

The three hooligans behind them also stood up and followed them out, picking their teeth as they went. The one with the pointed mouth and monkey-like face even turned back to look into the pot.

The old man stood to the side, bent over, forcing a smile, not daring to utter a sound. His gaze fell on the discarded bun on the ground, and his lips moved slightly.

Just then, Sun Hou spoke up: "You're leaving without paying?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough, like a stone thrown into still water.

The hooligans stopped in their tracks at the same time.

The old man's face turned deathly pale, as white as paper.

Master Xi slowly turned around.

He had a smile on his lips, but that smile was as cold as a knife in the dead of winter, capable of cutting through flesh.

His gaze fell on Sun Hou, scrutinizing him from head to toe, then from toe to face, before he spoke in a sarcastic tone: "What did you say? Pay?"

He took a step forward, tilted his head, stared at Sun Hou, his eyes flickering like a snake's tongue: "Where did you come from, you brat, trying to teach Master Xi how to do things?"

Sun Hou remained seated, but his hand was already on his sword, his fingers clenched slightly, and his knuckles turned white.

The old man's face turned deathly pale. He rushed forward to block Master Xi's path, bending so low his back almost touched the ground. His voice trembled violently: "Master Xi, Master Xi, please calm down! This child is young and doesn't know any better. He doesn't know how to speak properly. Please be magnanimous and don't take it to heart—he just said it casually, just said it casually—"

"Get out of the way."

Master Xi didn't look at him, but coldly uttered two words, the sound squeezed out from between his teeth.

Before the old man could say anything, a thug stepped forward, grabbed the old man by the collar, and shoved him aside.

That was the burly, dark-skinned guy, with a strong grip, lifting him like a chick.

The old man staggered back a few steps, tripped, kicked over the pile of firewood on the ground, and sat down on his backside.

With a loud crash, the bench overturned and landed beside him, its legs pointing upwards. It wobbled for a moment before coming to a stop.

Someone on the street glanced in their direction and immediately quickened their pace and walked away.

A vegetable vendor carrying a load on his shoulder almost ran past, causing vegetable leaves to fall out.

The steamed bun stall suddenly fell silent.

It was so quiet you could hear the porridge bubbling in the pot.

Old Wu's face turned ashen, his cloudy eyes filled with terror. He instinctively stepped back, but the rogue Xi grabbed his collar.

His thin body was half-suspended in the air, his hands futilely gripping the arm of the rascal Xi, and he spoke tremblingly, "Brother Xi, it was...it was me—it was my own choice to treat Brother Xi to this—don't blame this little brother!"

Pipixi grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth, and patted his face with a light touch, like teasing an old dog: "Oh? In that case, I can consider it."

He let go.

Old Wu staggered and fell to the ground, one hand supporting himself on the wet ground, the other clutching his chest, his throat making a bellows-like panting sound.

Pipi Xi turned to look at Sun Hou.

Although he said he would consider it, he actually had no intention of making things easy for Sun Hou.

He walked up to Sun Hou, about to say something more to show off his power, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of another person on the table.

Su Bai was still holding the half-finished bowl of wonton soup in his hand.

His movements were slow.

Slow enough for the rascal to get a good look at his attire: a clean blue long gown, the material of which looked unremarkable, but under the light, the subtle patterns shimmered, clearly indicating it was made of fine Hangzhou silk.

A jade pendant hung from her waist; its color was excellent, and it shone with a warm luster when illuminated by the light.

Looking at those hands, the fingers were long and fair, with well-proportioned joints. It was obvious that they had never done any manual labor; they probably hadn't even developed many calluses.

Pipixi immediately understood: most of the wealthy young men from out of town were visiting such a small place for the first time, and seeing this scene, they probably wanted to play the hero.

But the young man's first words left the foot that had stepped out of the way hanging in mid-air.

"Go any further, and you'll face the consequences."

His tone was very flat.

It was as plain as saying that the wind was a bit chilly tonight, or that the saltiness of the wonton soup was just right.

But it was precisely this ordinariness that made the ferocity of the rascal seem to hit an invisible wall.

He stared into Su Bai's eyes.

His gaze was calm, so calm that there wasn't a ripple, like a bottomless pool of water.

In his life, Popixi had seen the eyes of many people—those honest people he had bullied, whose eyes were filled with fear;

Those hotheads who wanted to act like heroes had excitement in their eyes;

But there was nothing in the young man's eyes.

wrong.

It's not that there's nothing at all.

They simply didn't take him seriously.

As the thought crossed his mind, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, as if a cold hand were gently stroking that spot.

He had only ever seen this kind of look in the eyes of those who truly came from prominent families.

That wasn't an act; it was the indifference that comes from someone who had seen the world and met people like him since childhood.

It was as if, in the eyes of this young man, his rascality was no different from a stray dog ​​barking indiscriminately at people on the roadside.

"Brother Xi—" A henchman approached from behind, his voice extremely low, trembling without him even realizing it, "This guy—something seems off."

Pipi Xi remained silent.

He quickly calculated in his mind: an outsider, a rich kid, alone with an attendant, who dares to stand up at this time and speak in this tone, is either mentally ill or really confident.

But what if it's the latter?

What if this young man really is from some powerful family? What if he carries some extraordinary token? What if if I throw this punch, a dozen or so men in black will come knocking on my door first thing tomorrow morning?

The rascal Xiqian chuckled.

The smile came abruptly, the fierce look on his face vanishing in an instant as if washed clean, replaced by a cheeky grin honed from years of street hustling: "Oh dear, young master, you've misunderstood. I was just joking with this old man, teasing him, just teasing him."

He took a step back, then another, spreading his hands out, palms facing outwards, as if to prove that he wasn't holding a knife, or as if to prove that he was harmless.

Su Bai did not respond.

He just looked at Popixi.

His gaze remained calm, so calm that it froze the smile on Popixi's face for a moment. He chuckled dryly a few more times, then turned and walked away, his steps quick and hurried.

The two underlings were stunned for a moment, then quickly followed, one of them almost tripping over the scattered firewood.

After walking a dozen or so steps, one of the henchmen couldn't help but look back. Seeing the young man still standing under the lamp, he lowered his voice and asked, "Brother Xi, are we just going to let it go like this? Who's that kid?"

The rascal slapped him on the back of the head, making him stumble: "Shut up! Didn't they say not to cause trouble?"

The underling could only helplessly say, "It's just good luck—if the new chief inspector hadn't taken office soon and the higher-ups hadn't strictly forbade any trouble—"

If it weren't for that strict order, they could have had another good time today.

Old Wu was still sitting on the ground, panting, in front of the wonton stall.

Sun Hou went over and helped him up, patted the dust off his back, and then bent down to pick up the fallen bamboo basket: "Old man, are you alright?"

Old Wu grabbed his wrist with surprising force, his cloudy eyes reddening: "It's all my fault..."

It's all my fault—I've caused you two trouble—”

"It's none of your business." Sun Hou pressed him down onto the bench and gathered the scattered firewood together. "We were just being nosy."

Before Old Wu could say anything more, he looked up and saw Su Bai walking over. He quickly tried to get up to thank him, but Sun Hou stopped him as soon as he moved.

Su Bai waved his hand, indicating that he didn't need to move.

He squatted down in front of Old Man Wu, his tone much gentler than before, as if speaking to an elder in his family: "Old man, I was rash just now. If those thugs come again, just report my name to the Zhenfu Division."

Old Wu paused for a moment, not daring to reply. He had lived in Qingyuan County his entire life; how could he not know what the Zhenfu Division was?

Su Bai took out a few pieces of silver from his sleeve and placed them in his rough palm. The silver was still warm from his body. "Take this and get some medicine. Check if you've hurt yourself anywhere."

Old Wu seemed to have been burned, and hurriedly pushed the money back, almost dropping it on the ground in his haste: "This is unacceptable, unacceptable—you two gentlemen helped me out of this predicament, how can I possibly take your money again—"

Sun Hou pressed his hand down, firmly placing the few pieces of silver in his palm: "Old man, keep them. You still need to keep this stall running; your health is the most important thing."

Old Wu couldn't refuse, so he had no choice but to accept it.

He clutched the few pieces of silver, his knuckles trembling slightly, and looked up at Su Bai and Sun Hou, as if trying to etch their faces into his mind.

Su Bai stood up, patted off non-existent dust from the hem of his clothes, said nothing more, and turned to walk towards the other end of the street.

Sun Hou followed behind.

After walking a few dozen steps, the streets and alleys became deeper, and the houses on both sides blocked the moonlight, leaving only a narrow slit.

Sun Hou suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but exceptionally clear in the quiet alley: "My lord, if you had stood up a moment later, I would have made my move."

Su Bai didn't turn his head, continuing to walk: "I know."

Sun Hou smiled and said nothing more, simply following at a leisurely pace.

The gates of the Zhenfusi (a local administrative office) in Qingyuan County were wide open.

Two red lanterns hung in front of the door, casting the shadows of the stone lions on the ground, making them look like two crouching beasts.

Two constables were standing at the entrance, chatting idly.

One of them was talking animatedly about the excitement he had witnessed at the gambling den the day before, gesturing wildly with his hands, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of someone approaching out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively looked up and saw one or two young men, one in front of the other.

The man walking in front was wearing a blue long robe with a jade pendant at his waist. He looked unfamiliar, as if he were from out of town. Just as the constable was about to ask him a question, the man took out a waist token from his sleeve and held it up in front of him.

The red light of the lantern fell on the waist tag, illuminating six characters—

"Chief Constable of Qingyuan County".

The constable's mouth was still open, but the words were stuck in his throat, as if something was blocking it.

The other constable reacted faster, grabbing his companion's sleeve. The two bowed almost simultaneously, their movements so synchronized they seemed like one person, and said in unison, "Welcome, Chief Constable!"