The old house on Duijin Street doesnāt have many servants, just the cook who usually does laundry and cooking, along with two fellows who chop wood, make fires, and run errands. Theyāve already clocked out and gone home.
In the large house, only Uncle Zhong and Yang Meng remain, keeping each other company.
He carried a steaming, freshly cooked bowl of meat porridge, walking with a limp.
Outside the eaves, fine threads of rain were blowing in. Looking out, the clouds covered the moonlight, with the occasional rumble of thunder rolling by.
"Itās going to rain again, damn cold killer weather!"
Uncle Zhong slowly moved to the backyard. Brother Quan didnāt have a complete corpse, just a set of clothes and a crown in the coffin, and Master Meng had been keeping watch here day and night, hardly leaving.
Boom!
Lightning snaked wildly, silver gleams spilled to the ground, followed by the rolling thunder.
Drowning out all the noise in the world!
"Master Meng..."
Uncle Zhong took out a key and opened the wooden door of the backyard, but what he saw were a dozen barefoot men in shorts, with short knives in their mouths and fish spears in their hands.
Yang Meng, clad in hemp, stood beside the large coffin of nanmu wood, turned sideways to look:
"Every grievance has its root, every debt has its owner... Ah Zhong? Didnāt I tell you to go to bed as soon as night falls? Why are you running around?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the pouring rain came down like the river bursting its banks, drenching everything.
Pitter-patter, falling on bricks and tiles, making a dense sound.
"Master Meng..."
In an instant, a dozen pairs of eyes fell on him, scaring Uncle Zhong out of his wits, causing him to stammer:
"I noticed you didnāt eat anything tonight, so I thought Iād bring you a bowl of meat porridge."
Yang Meng waved his hand, sighed deeply, and a gaunt man stepped up silently to take the warm ceramic bowl.
"Master Meng, hope Iām not disturbing you?"
Uncle Zhongās face was stiff with a smile, trying to bow his back as much as possible.
These men didnāt seem like good people. Could they be the thugs Master Meng had previously rallied with the Fishery Guard?
He glanced over the gaunt manās arm, noticing a jet-black hawk tattoo revealed, his eyes instantly opened wide, teeth grinding loudly, but he couldnāt squeeze out a single word for a long time.
"Master Meng? What to do?"
The gaunt man turned his head to Yang Meng, holding the hot porridge.
"Drag him farther away, donāt act in the house. Weāve known each other for years, thereās some sentiment involved."
Uncle Zhong trembled with anger, staggered back, his old bloodshot eyes full of frustration:
"Heaven-defying Saber! Master Meng... how could you be mixed with water thieves..."
Yang Mengās face was expressionless, hard as iron:
"Ah Zhong, your question is foolish. The Fishery oppresses you humble folk, you think itās right, willing to endure;
water thieves burn, kill, and loot, you see them as evil incarnate, hope someone takes charge... But theyāre actually just the same.
The masters are blood-drinking thieves, water thieves are meat-eating bandits! Whether being a masterās dog, or being a leader of water thieves, whatās the difference..."
Uncle Zhong was in tears, he never imagined that the benefactor he regarded would actually collude with the biggest den of thieves on Black Water River, Heaven-defying Saber!
"Master Meng... I... Yang Meng! Youāll burn, kill and come to a bad end!"
"Too much talking!"
The gaunt man had no patience to listen to the old manās nonsense, slapped him to the ground, then kicked him again.
After confirming he couldnāt move, they carried him like a dead pig ready for slaughter, striding out of the backyard.
Rumble!
The heavy rain poured down, growing even fiercer!
Yang Meng took the cold meat porridge bowl from the others, gulped it down, finishing it up:
"Where were we? Oh, right, every grievance has its root, every debt has its owner!
Brothers, all these years, weāve weathered the storms.
Not being driven out by the Fishery, or slain by Lei Xiong.
The worst time was just bad luck, bumped into Instructor fishing on the river, lost half of our best men, even Boss Dao was badly injured!
Endured till now, still managed to catch a breath, not meeting the Dragon King yet!
Weāve rested and healed long enough, time to stir up some waves!"
The dozen barefoot men in shorts, looking like water ghosts, gritted their teeth, eyes reddening.
Not mourning for dead brothers, but remembering the harsh days drinking northwest wind in the reed marshes these years.
No salt to eat, truly miserable!
"Master Meng, just give the word! Weāll risk our lives to follow you and score a big hit!"
"Absolutely, absolutely! Iām tired of this bland life, living like neither human nor ghost, enough!"
"Let Master Meng speak..."
Yang Meng raised his hand and pressed down, saying in a deep voice:
"Donāt rush, the Instructor is staying in the county for a while, heās a fierce man, we canāt compete with him."
As soon as these words were spoken, the noise instantly stopped.
The many water thieves revealed their sinister looks, their throats moved, their eyes collectively showing fear, like wild dogs retracting their claws.
"Ninghai Zen... is indeed not someone to provoke. Cough, cough, Brother Yang Meng, you called us over today, saying thereās a big deal."
The water thieves made way, revealing a middle-aged man whose face was pale blue, dressed in short lantern pants, with dark skin, looking much like a fisherman.
"Boss!"
Yang Meng clasped his hands in salute:
"Indeed it is a big deal. If itās done, enough for the brothers to eat meat, drink wine, and enjoy themselves for a while, every word is true, thereās absolutely no deception."
The middle-aged man seemed to have a serious illness, the pouring rain made his complexion look worse:
"Brother Yang Meng, weāre used to trusting your work. During the most glorious years of Heaven-defying Saber, it was all thanks to your informants and the goods delivered to us; I naturally trust you.
If it werenāt for the tides turning against us and encountering Ninghai Zen, this jinx, we wouldnāt have fallen to the point where even oil and salt depend on begging."
Yang Meng remained silent; he had also come from a low-class background along Black Water River, living off his parentsā fishing.
With a strong physique, he sold himself into the fishery, blended into the Guard selections, and thus learned martial skills.
Every month, he earned ten taels and two maces, barely enough for expenses. When would he ever reach the end?
Yang Meng was fed up with poverty, no longer wanted a life of hardship.
So he secretly became an informant for the water thieves, partnered with Heaven-defying Saber for significant wealth.
With the silver coins earned, he curried favor with the fishery masters, gradually climbing higher until he was promoted to leader.
The middle-aged man coughed twice, bringing the topic back:
"Letās discuss this deal in detail; without some income, a large group will starve in the reed marsh."
Yang Meng looked up, addressing the Boss of Heaven-defying Saber:
"Capture a person! Our usual trade! Catch a fish!"
Thieves and bandits have many secret codes.
The Green Forest Daoās bandits call hostages "planting seedlings."
Water thieves and pirates living off the rivers and seas refer to it as "catching fish" or "setting scented bait."
"Who?"
The middle-aged manās eyebrows rose.
"Every grievance has its head, and every debt its owner! He made me lose my son; Iāll also leave him childless!"
Yang Mengās eyelids lifted as he softly uttered a name.
Boom!
Another muffled thunder rolled by!
"Good, good, good! It truly is a big deal! Letās discuss how weāll do it."
The middle-aged man, understanding clearly, licked his lips like a starving alpha wolf.
"Black River County holds a Dragon King Temple sacrifice before winter every year, praying for favorable weather in spring.
Ninghai Zen dislikes festivities, definitely wonāt be in the county; people like the fishery, Chai Market, and kiln families, though, will come forward to host the event.
I choose that day for the funeral, weāll hide weapons in the coffin, brothers will climb out from the dry well in the backyard, clad in mourning clothes, pretending as mourners.
We act fast, upon arriving we chop whoever stands in the way, then set fire to shops in other directions, seize the target, tie them on the boat, and hide in Mihun Bayās reed marshes, even an Immortal couldnāt find us!"
Yang Meng was methodical, as if planning for ages, raindrops the size of beans splashed on his face; he wiped away the water:
"That old thing has just this one son! The price is ten thousand taels, cut his flesh, drain his blood!"
The middle-aged man exhaled warmly, giving a thumbs-up:
"Great plan! Iāve advanced through three practices, with a few skilled helpers, not afraid to fight Lei Xiong on the water!
Moreover, that lazy donkey, the fishery might not be able to employ him!
Brother Yang Meng, youāve been a great benefactor to us Heaven-defying Saber; once the deed is done, I can help you accomplish something.
Ninghai Zen is untouchable, his apprentice, that lad surnamed Bai..."
This Heaven-defying Saber Boss pondered for a moment, calmly shook his head:
"Hmm, forget it, also untouchable, killing him is stabbing a hornetās nest.
Liang Laoshu! Heās your great enemy; Iāll conveniently help you deal with him, how about it?"
Yang Mengās mourning clothes were drenched, he turned to the coffin:
"Every grievance has its head, and every debt its owner! Someone took away my son; Iāll leave him childless too!"