Chapter 11: Sparring Partner

Fu Juemin’s question hung in the air, and the atmosphere instantly tensed.

Qian Fei and the man beside him exchanged a glance, then forced slick, oily smiles. "Young Master Fu, you must be joking," Qian Fei said, trying to laugh it off. "We’re just helping the police department with some odd jobs—catching a few petty thieves, finding lost cats and dogs, things like that..."

"Oh?" Fu Juemin’s tone was level, but his gaze was sharp as a hook. "What kind of petty thieves would require several hundred men and over a hundred guns? If I recall correctly, the Civil Affairs Bureau has already posted recruitment notices more than twice this year."

"Heh heh..."

Qian Fei gave a few dry laughs and shrank back, pretending he didn’t understand.

Fu Juemin knew they were both slippery old foxes; he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of them. ’If I want to understand what’s really going on, I’ll have to ask my second uncle, Fu Guoping.’

The docks in August felt like a steam basket. People were packed shoulder to shoulder, and the stench of sweat mingled with the river’s fishy odor, enough to make one’s head spin.

Fu Juemin had seen enough. He turned and walked back, his two bodyguards in tow.

After leaving the event grounds by the water, he was just about to get into his car when he suddenly stopped. He saw a crew of laborers, their heads bowed, working in pairs. They were using thick wooden poles to carry heavy, dripping sacks, stumbling up from the riverbank.

A faint but familiar stench, carrying the scent of riverbed silt and decay, wafted into his nose.

Fu Juemin’s eyes narrowed. With a swift motion, he slammed the car door shut. BANG.

"Let’s go see."

Ignoring the reactions of his two men, Fu Juemin strode directly toward the group of laborers.

As he drew near, the foul stench grew overwhelming.

Fu Juemin pulled out a handkerchief to cover his mouth and nose. He flagged down a pair of laborers and tossed two silver coins to them.

"Open it."

Seeing Fu Juemin’s fine clothes and distinguished air, not to mention his generosity, the two laborers didn’t dare to hesitate. They quickly untied the ropes and tipped the sack’s opening downward—

A dark, sodden mass slammed onto the ground, splattering foul-smelling black water everywhere.

Forcing down his discomfort, Fu Juemin stared intently at the object on the ground. A flicker of shock and horror crossed his eyes.

The sack had contained a dead pig.

But this was no ordinary drowned pig.

The entire carcass was bloated and blackened, yet no flies swarmed it, and it showed no typical signs of decay. Its torn skin clung tightly to the withered, shrunken, and bloodless flesh within, as if all its blood and life essence had been drained by something.

It looked almost identical to the corpses he had seen on the flagpole at the docks over a month ago!

"Is this one of the offerings thrown into the river today?"

Fu Juemin’s voice was grim.

A simple-faced laborer stammered, "It’s... from the last time..."

"The offerings from last time? And they only floated up after more than a week?" Fu Juemin’s brows knitted together.

"It’s because there’s a Water Demon in the river—" Before the laborer could finish, Qian Fei shot forward and cut him off sharply. "That’s a load of horseshit! The river’s perfectly clean. What Water Demon? Spout any more nonsense and I’ll rip that mouth of yours shut!"

"Shut up!"

At Fu Juemin’s cold glare, Qian Fei flinched and retreated sheepishly.

The two laborers were frightened into silence.

Realizing he wouldn’t get anything more out of them, Fu Juemin tossed two more silver coins onto the ground and strode back toward his car.

Watching the black sedan drive off in a cloud of dust, Qian Fei wiped the sweat from his brow and exchanged a wry smile with his companion.

"This young master is too damn sharp. This whole affair... I don’t think we can keep it under wraps any longer."

"We should let the Second Master know. After that, it’s out of our hands..."

....

Fu Juemin went straight home. He sat by the window of his third-floor bedroom, gazing through the enameled panes at the meticulously manicured, tranquil greenery of the garden below.

The good mood he’d been in from his month of hard training, on the verge of completing the Skin Polishing stage, had vanished completely. Now, all he felt was an inexpressible vexation. The ghastly image of the shriveled pig at the docks kept flashing through his mind, superimposed with the memory of the corpses swaying from the flagpole.

Expressionless, Fu Juemin picked up the revolver before him and began mechanically repeating a set of actions: flicking the cylinder out with a CLICK, snapping it shut, cocking the hammer, then flicking it out again...

The crisp, cold clicks of metal were exceptionally jarring in the silent room.

After some time, Fu Juemin abruptly set the revolver down. He rose, walked to his desk, and pulled open the top left-hand drawer. From a red velvet-lined brocade box, he tore off a small handful of ginseng whiskers and haphazardly stuffed them into his mouth.

A bitter taste spread through his mouth as he chewed.

Fu Juemin took a shallow breath, silently changed into his training clothes, and walked out of the room. His face was a mask of indifference as he gave the order.

"Go and bring me Wang Shuisheng."

....

「Another week went by in a flash.」

In the servants’ dining hall of the Fu Family residence, the large square tables were already packed with people by the time Wang Shuisheng walked in, dragging his limp leg.

The food for the Fu Family’s household guards was never poor. Eight men sat at each table, which was laden with ten dishes and a soup, complete with fish and meat. On holidays, every man would even receive a cup of aged wine.

Wang Shuisheng was one of only two Boxers among the Fu Family’s household guards to have reached the Bone Forging Realm. His status was exceptional. So, even though he was late, the seat of honor at his table—the head seat, facing the fish platter—was always kept for him.

"Brother Shuisheng!"

"Brother Wang is here!"

Several men at his table rose to their feet to greet him.

Wang Shuisheng smiled and waved a hand. "Alright, sit down, everyone. Let’s eat."

The men were starving and immediately dug in.

One quick-witted fellow swiftly moved the entire platter of braised carp—the only one on the table—directly in front of Wang Shuisheng. He then picked out the most tender, crescent-shaped piece of meat from near the gills and offered it obsequiously, "Brother Shuisheng, have a taste of this."

"Nonsense!" Wang Shuisheng said. "This is for everyone, not just for me."

Wang Shuisheng rapped the man’s head with his chopsticks and chided him good-naturedly before pushing the platter back toward the center of the table.

Still, he was privately pleased by the man’s attempt to curry favor. Even the piece of fish now in his bowl seemed to taste that much more delicious.

Wang Shuisheng picked up the tender meat from the fish’s cheek. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, a burst of jeering laughter erupted from a nearby table.

"Pah! This fish is foul!"

"Foul? I’d say it’s lame!"

"How can a fish be lame? You’re talking nonsense!"

"And why not? Some creatures are born in the water, live in the water, but they just have to go and grow a leg... and then find a way to get it crippled!"

"HAHAHAHA—"

The men at that table grew louder, putting heavy emphasis on the words "born" and "water." Everyone knew exactly who they were talking about.

Wang Shuisheng slammed his chopsticks down with a CLACK. His face darkened as he glared at the other table. "Sun Youzhu, what is the meaning of this?"

At the opposite table, a tall, burly man got unsteadily to his feet.

His face was a mask of brutish flesh, his scalp shaved to a gleam, and his body was a mass of gnarled muscle. It was the other Bone Forger Boxer of the household guard, Sun Youzhu.

"You don’t understand what I mean?"

Sun Youzhu sneered, his eyes narrowed to slits. "I just can’t stand certain people who put on an act. Spineless cowards."

His voice suddenly rose in pitch. "We may work for the Fu Family, but we’re martial artists! We ought to have some backbone, some sense of shame!"

"Breaking your own leg just to look pitiful and squeeze out a few more silver coins in rewards... That’s something I, Sun Youzhu, could never do!"

Wang Shuisheng’s face turned livid.

He knew that being chosen as the Young Master’s sparring partner and receiving generous rewards had made him a target of jealousy.

But he hadn’t expected Sun Youzhu to be so vicious, to show him no respect whatsoever.

"You think... I did this to myself? This leg?" he stared at Sun Youzhu, his words sharp and deliberate.

"What else could it be?" Sun Youzhu scoffed. "Everyone knows the Young Master has only been training for a month! What can you even learn in a month? He probably can’t even hold a proper Stance! And you, Wang Shuisheng? You’re in the Bone Forging Realm! A Bone Forger sparring with a complete beginner, and you end up with broken bones? Do you take all of us for idiots?"

Wang Shuisheng didn’t immediately retort. His gaze swept slowly across the dining hall.

"Is that what you all think?"

No one spoke, but their silence was noncommittal.

Even the guards at his own table avoided his gaze, their eyes flickering with suspicion and disdain.

"Fine." Wang Shuisheng fell silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. His voice was unnaturally calm. "The Young Master has been complaining that I’m not enough for him to fight. He’s looking for more sparring partners."

He surveyed the room and said slowly,

"The Young Master is training tonight. Anyone who wants to join... is welcome to come along."

"I, Wang Shuisheng, am the one telling you this."