piratefiction Chapter 60 Night Raid
Chapter 60 Night Raid
He arrived at the wooden house.
There was no plaque above the door, only a palm-sized wooden sign nailed to the side of the door frame. The ink had faded to white, but the three characters "Zhenhe Gang" could still be vaguely discerned.
The main gate faces the drill ground, a superb location.
Lin Mu stepped forward and knocked on the door.
The door opened a crack. A young man, as thin as a bamboo pole, poked half his face out, with triangular eyes and a blade of grass dangling from the corner of his mouth, and sized him up.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm looking for a job."
Looking for work?
"Do you know where this is?"
"This is the Zhenhe Gang, and our leader is a Ming Jin martial artist."
Upon hearing that the gang leader was only at the Mingjin level, Lin Mu hesitated, wondering if he should simply replace him with a different gang leader.
Suddenly, the skinny man blinked and grabbed the strong man's arm.
He leaned close to his companion's ear and whispered very softly.
"Are you stupid? Every year we're the two of us guarding the gate for the martial arts exam. This year, it's rare to have someone come to us willingly. Let him fill in for a few days, and we can go to the Drunken Red Pavilion. Miss Rouge even praised me for being witty last time."
The burly man paused for a moment, then nodded in sudden realization, his fierce expression vanishing and replaced by a warm smile: "Do you want to be a gatekeeper? Twenty coins a month."
Lin Mu paused for a moment, then nodded.
"Come at 7 PM tomorrow," said the skinny bamboo pole.
"it is good."
......
Having found the best viewing spot, Lin Mu returned to Xihe Town.
I sat in the teahouse diagonally opposite Changfeng Martial Arts School.
He hopes to respond to Yan Hua's sneak attack yesterday.
From the window seats on the second floor of the teahouse, you can clearly see the entrance to the martial arts school.
He ordered a pot of coarse tea, leaned against the window, and waited from noon until sunset and then until the hour of Xu (7-9 PM).
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the eaves, casting a layer of cold silver on the blue brick floor.
The waiter at the teahouse came over twice to refill the water, but Lin Mu's tea had long since gone cold.
Inside the martial arts school, some people were practicing standing meditation, some were finishing their exercises, and some were going to the Drunken Red Pavilion in twos and threes. The school gates were not opened again until the moon was full over the eaves.
Yan Hua walked out alone.
His white robes were particularly striking in the moonlight. He paused at the door for a moment, looked around, and then walked towards the inner city.
Lin Mu put down the tea money and quietly slipped out through the back door of the teahouse.
Yan Hua seemed to sense something and walked very cautiously.
The distance from Changfeng Martial Arts School to the inner city gate wasn't long, but he turned around at least three times—suddenly stopping, turning around abruptly, and sharply glancing into the shadows behind him.
They found nothing.
Lin Mu remained undetected, even from a distance of more than half a street, using the shadows of walls, woodpiles, and crooked willow trees for cover.
Upon reaching the inner city gate, Yan Hua had his waist token checked, passed through the gate opening, and suddenly stopped.
He leaned against the city wall, his eyes fixed on the straight official road outside the city gate.
It seems like some kind of monstrous flood might suddenly appear from within.
Only after the crowd had dispersed and they were sure no one was following them did they venture deeper into the inner city.
Lin Mu had just confirmed that Yan Hua was coming to the inner city and had already checked his waist token beforehand, hiding in the shadows of the city wall.
Seeing that Yan Hua had lowered his guard, he followed again.
Two rows of large red lanterns hang under the eaves of the Heyuan Restaurant, looking like a string of fiery pearls suspended in the night from a distance.
Yan Hua pushed open the door and went inside.
Yu Mubai also came.
Lin Mu walked around to the alley behind the restaurant and stopped in the shade of an old locust tree.
The alley was very narrow, only wide enough for two people to walk side by side, with high walls on both sides and a narrow strip of sky overhead.
Only a narrow sliver of moonlight could seep through, illuminating the bluestone slabs, while the rest remained shrouded in thick darkness.
He took the long spear, which was wrapped in old cloth, off his back, removed the cloth cover, and rested it at his feet with the spearhead pointing downwards.
He pulled the eagle-head mask from his pocket, the cool metallic touch pressing against his palm.
They waited until midnight.
In the distance, the watchman's clapper struck the third watch, and two of the lanterns under the eaves of the Heyuan Restaurant went out.
The back door finally creaked open.
Yan Hua walked out, took a few steps deeper into the alley, and suddenly stopped.
He didn't turn around, but just turned his head slightly. The moonlight shone on his profile, making his expression unclear, but his voice was as cold as a knife.
"Who?!"
Lin Mu put on the eagle-head mask and stepped out of the shadows.
Moonlight shone through the narrow gap in the alley's roof, falling on the mask.
The outline of the eagle's beak cast a huge, distorted shadow on the blue brick wall.
Holding the spear in his hand, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground, the dark blue patterns on the spearhead did not emit a single ray of light in the shadows, yet they sent chills down one's spine more intensely than any light.
The tip of the spear left a very thin white mark on the bluestone slab, which slowly extended with his steps, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue under the moonlight.
Yan Hua frowned deeply.
He had heard of the eagle-head mask; it had appeared on the nights when the three leaders of the Chang Le Gambling House, the Bamboo Forest in the East of the City, and the Yu Feng Gang died violently.
The visitor is not good.
He said nothing more, stomped his left foot on the ground, and suddenly started a whirlwind.
The dust accumulated in the cracks of the blue bricks was blasted into a gray mist by the force of the footsteps, and the white-clad figure shot into the depths of the narrow alley like a white arrow from the entrance.
A draft through the room.
The edge of his palm was wrapped with a hidden, unreleased force, heading straight for Lin Mu's throat.
This palm strike was a killing blow.
Lin Mu spun the spear halfway in his hand, then flicked the end of the spear diagonally, striking Yan Hua's wrist joint with precision.
Yan Hua changed his move very quickly. Halfway through his palm strike, he suddenly pressed down to avoid the spear's tail, and with his five fingers slightly bent, he grabbed at Lin Mu's chest.
Lin Mu blocked with his spear, and the palm and spear collided silently in the narrow alley. The hidden force rolled against each other along the edge of the spear and the palm, and a very muffled thud exploded in the air.
The dust accumulated over the years on the alley walls fell in rustling sounds, and the moss on the high walls on both sides was swept up and rolled up by the strong wind.
Lin Mu no longer gave him a chance to get close.
The spear unfolds, and the spiraling force of the Wind-Riding Spear circulates from the shaft to the tip, each thrust accompanied by a spinning, piercing sound.
Narrow alleys are generally disadvantageous for long spears, but he compressed his spear technique to the extreme—the spear tip grazed the alley wall as it thrust out, bringing down a cloud of brick dust, and the spear butt swept across, severing a lock of Yan Hua's hair.
Yan Hua was forced to retreat repeatedly, his Long Wind Fist techniques unable to penetrate the seven-foot-long spear.
He tried to get close, but each advance was met with a repulsion from the spear tip; he tried to parry, but the spiraling force of the spear made each parry feel like putting his hand into a vortex.
The twelfth thrust was delivered, and the tip of the spear ripped open a gash in Yan Hua's white robe below his right rib, the crimson blood quickly seeping in under the moonlight.
The fifteenth shot swept across, the butt of the spear striking his left shoulder at the Jianjing acupoint with a dull thud like a hammer blow.
Yan Hua staggered and crashed into the alley wall, his blood surging. His white clothes were torn at the shoulder, revealing a dark blue spiral bruise on his exposed skin.
He knelt on one knee, his left hand supporting him on the bluestone slab, his right fingertips trembling slightly.
Lin Mu pointed the tip of his spear diagonally at the ground, the moonlight flowing like mercury on the dark blue patterns on the spear, and two calm, almost ruthless eyes were revealed in the eye holes of the eagle-head mask.
Yan Hua slowly stood up and looked down at the wound under his ribs.
Blood trickled down his clothes, leaving a glaring red streak on his white robe.
He raised his head, his usual arrogance gone, replaced by a hint of ferocity.