When my master heard about the trouble at my house, he came to visit me. He simply said not to bother with such trivial matters and proceeded to teach me at my home. My master still had a few loyal followers. With him here, those idle old men and women didn't dare to cause too much trouble and didn't besiege my house.
My grandmother also heard a rumor that last night, Fan Qiang's friends gathered a dozen people to seek revenge on me. However, they encountered a giant spirit man taller than a roof on the main road outside the village, which scared them half to death. The dogs barking throughout the village was because of this incident. I didn't believe it and just laughed it off. However, I knew revenge from the Butterfly Gang was inevitable, so I prepared a long, thick hardwood stick, about two meters in length and the thickness of a forearm, just in case.
Recently, there have been many rumors in the village. Some say they saw a five-step snake as big as a bowl swallowing a whole piglet, which is complete nonsense. Don't they know that a five-step snake can only grow to a little over a meter long? I'm more inclined to believe it was eaten by the "big snake" of the Butterfly Gang.
Rumors (or "yao" in Chinese, playing on the word for "evil") stop with the wise. After all, only a few bored old men believe in Shengyu Po, and they can't cause much trouble. But unexpectedly, something happened in the afternoon. An elderly man over seventy years old from the house next door to mine suddenly passed away without any illness. The wailing was so loud it disturbed my peace at home.
Soon, a new version of the rumor emerged. It claimed that I borrowed the bronze bell from the Fengtou Temple, angering the gods, and that the misfortune started with the person closest to my house. The old man from the neighboring house died because of me, and more people would die next.
As soon as this rumor spread, my neighbors started to openly blame and curse me. My mother, who was helping out at their house, was sent back. Some of their relatives even came over, unaware of the truth, to confront me at my home.
I never expected the spiritual medium to have such influence. Feeling helpless, I tightly shut both the front and back doors, thinking that no matter how much trouble they tried to cause, they couldn't use this as an excuse to create a scene at my house. What era are we living in, after all?
Around 8 o'clock at night, there was a sudden commotion outside. At first, I thought my neighbors were conducting some sort of ceremony. But to my surprise, someone soon started hammering on my front door with an iron rod. The area outside was brightly lit, and there was a noisy crowd of more than twenty people.
Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw a group of young people from other villages, all in their teens and twenties, with colorful hair, wearing black tank tops, and sporting a black butterfly tattoo on their arms. They were armed with sticks and machetes, radiating a menacing aura. This scene was not uncommon in Hong Kong and Taiwanese movies. In fact, the Butterfly Gang only emerged after such films became popular.
"Zhang Xuanming, you bastard, how dare you beat my brother! Get out here, I'm going to chop you up!" shouted the ringleader of the thugs.
The thugs smashed their sticks and shouted abuses, but my front door is made of solid wood, about three to four centimeters thick. With their thin sticks and lightweight machetes, it wouldn't be easy for them to break it down.
Finally, I understood Shengyu Po's sinister plan. She didn't intend to kill me with rumors but to use them to prevent the villagers from supporting me. With me being labeled as the source of disaster, who would dare to stand up for me? She was indeed ruthless, fearing that the local ruffians might go easy on me, so she invited members of the Butterfly Gang from other villages.
I shouted through the door, "What do you guys want?"
Voices outside shouted angrily, "You broke my brother's arm, so you need to give us an arm in return!" "After cutting off the arm, you still need to apologize!" "Make him castrate himself with a knife!"
I scoffed, "You guys are really out of control. Even if the local public security bureau doesn't catch you, there are still provincial and municipal public security bureaus. I've already asked my classmate to report this, so you just wait!"
The thugs were furious and started hacking at the door even more vigorously. Some of them split off to go around to the back door, but I had already bolted it shut. The back door was just as thick and, being smaller, even more secure.
My mother was terrified and kept saying nice things through the door, but no one paid any attention to her. My master was also scared out of his wits, cowering in a corner, shaking. This scene was too reminiscent of the Red Guards from back then!
I asked my master if there were any spells to deal with these thugs, but he said there weren't. In modern times, offensive spells based on the five elements have been lost. Some spells require a high level of cultivation to activate, and although he knows them, he can't use them. Summoning ghosts and spirits can only target one or two individuals at most. With so many robust, knife-wielding thugs full of killing intent, even fierce ghosts would be afraid to confront them!
He's an old charlatan, not a martial arts master; I was overthinking things.
I started to regret my rash actions. Because of my recklessness and impulsiveness, I had caused my mother undue worry and fear. The consequences this time might be severe.
Unable to break down the door, the thugs began to shout about setting fire to the house and called for someone to bring gasoline. Now I was really worried. There were too many of them; I couldn't possibly fight them off if I opened the door, and if I didn't, we would be burned alive inside. In fact, I didn't have a phone or any way to call for help. My family were newcomers to the village, and our only close relatives were my uncle's family. We were few and alone, and with rumors swirling, who would dare risk offending both gods and thugs by supporting us?
I told my mother to light a fire and heat a pot of tea tree oil until it boiled. If these thugs really dared to set fire, I would splash the hot oil on them! Although my mother was afraid that this might cause more trouble, she was even more worried about the thugs rushing in and harming me, so she went to heat the oil.
It takes a considerable amount of time to heat a pot of oil. To buy some time, I pretended to agree to pay for Fan Qiang's medical expenses and offered to treat everyone present to a meal. Hearing that there was money involved, the leader of the thugs finally relented, but he demanded a whopping fifty thousand yuan.
Damn, the day the officials from the relevant department sent me home, they gave me fifty thousand yuan in public, and everyone knew I had money. This was clearly a setup by Fan Qiang to have them extort money from me. Maybe the chicken theft was a deliberate provocation by them!
In reality, we didn't have fifty thousand yuan left. I had given eight thousand to my master, and I had spent a few thousand on various herbs and special items. There was no way I could gather fifty thousand yuan now. But the thugs insisted on fifty thousand, not a cent less.
There was no way I was going to give them the money. I bargained with them through the door to buy time, on one hand waiting for the oil to heat up, and on the other hand, I believed that my uncle, once he knew about this, would definitely call the police. The longer I could delay, the better it would be for me.
After about five or six minutes, the oil in the pot at my house was almost ready, and the thugs outside had managed to get gasoline. They probably realized I was stalling for time and started shouting again, threatening to burn the house if I didn't open the door. They began to splash gasoline on the front door. Just then, I heard a powerful, heart-pounding roar, followed by continuous screams of agony. The thugs outside started to panic and scatter.
It was Old Lin's voice! He's always been a mysterious figure, and I hadn't seen him for the past two days. He mentioned before that he was going to Nanjing to do a business deal with a friend, so I thought he had already left. I never expected him to show up at this moment.
I immediately opened the door and charged out with a stick in hand. At this point, all the thugs were running towards Old Lin, with their backs to me. I didn't hold back and pursued them, striking randomly in the chaos.
I made a small mistake; I had carved the stick too long. The alley was narrow, and it was difficult to swing the stick effectively in the crowded space. In fact, with my speed advantage, few people could hit me, and a shorter stick would have been more beneficial for my offense.
Old Lin, charging from the opposite side, was using an ordinary bamboo pole. He used it with skill and precision, thrusting, poking, lifting, blocking, and parrying swiftly and powerfully. Everyone who got close to him screamed and fell. He fought his way through, and my uncle and a few others followed behind, knocking down anyone who tried to get back up.
There were over twenty thugs, but some were at the back door, and others hadn't returned from fetching gasoline, so there were only about fifteen at the front door. In the blink of an eye, Old Lin had taken down five or six of them. At my end, I quickly knocked down two and injured several others, with one even falling into a ditch. Among these thugs, only the leaders were truly fearless; the rest were just followers. When they saw how skillfully Old Lin and I fought, they all panicked and couldn't withstand our attacks.
In just two minutes, all the thugs were on the ground. I was hit on the shoulder and thigh, but it wasn't serious.
Old Lin held the bamboo pole in one hand and cursed loudly, "You're from the Butterfly Gang, aren't you? You dare to bully my benefactor's family? Even your boss, that punk Leopard, treats me with respect. How dare you little bastards cause trouble here? Are you all tired of living? Go get some rope and tie them all up, then send them to the police station!"
Hearing this, the group at the back door rushed over, and Old Lin and I immediately went to meet them. Another round of chaotic strikes took down a few more, while the rest fled in fear. Old Lin was incredibly fierce; every strike he made took someone down. Although I was fast, I couldn't match his strength, accuracy, and timing. I could only push people back, not knock them down with one hit.
Some of those who had been knocked down earlier took the opportunity to escape, but several were still unconscious, had dislocated joints, or were in too much pain to run away. In the end, we managed to tie up six of them. When Old Lin learned that they had tried to extort fifty thousand yuan from me, he issued a harsh threat, demanding that their boss, Leopard, pay to bail them out, fifty thousand yuan for each person, or else they would be castrated.
In the end, we didn't receive any ransom money, nor did we carry out the threat of castration, because not long after, the public security officers (back then, police were called "militia officers") arrived and took them away. The scars on the front door and the gasoline stains were clear evidence of their attack on civilians. They had gone too far this time, and since Old Lin was acquainted with one of the officers, the unlucky thugs were destined for a few months in prison.
This major crisis was thus resolved. Old Lin naturally became a hero in our family, and my mother quickly set to work in the kitchen, preparing a feast and heating up wine to entertain Old Lin, my master, my uncle, and a few relatives who had come to help. These relatives only joined in because Old Lin was there, but they came nonetheless.
Old Lin was impressed with my performance that night. He practiced a few moves with me bare-handed. Initially, I managed to land a few punches thanks to my speed, but eventually, he could predict my every move, easily capturing me and rendering me immobile. His hands were like iron pincers, and he specifically targeted my arms and joints with a ruthless and painful technique.
"Your speed is impressive, and your reactions are agile, but you lack focus and explosive power, and there's no follow-through in your attacks. You hit in places that don't hurt, and your angles of attack are easily blocked. You keep repeating the same moves," Old Lin crowed, harshly pointing out my flaws.
"You've trained in martial arts, and I haven't. I'm tired, so I'll give up," I panted, diplomatically conceding defeat.
Old Lin still twisted my hand behind my back and pressed me to the ground, scoffing, "If you encounter enemies, do you just stop fighting when you feel like it? Call me Master, and I'll teach you how to fight."
I had been considering this anyway, about to call him Master, when my master shouted from the side, "No, no, he's already my disciple. He can't call you Master."
Old Lin rolled his eyes, "Where was your ghostly act when you were cornered at home? Your so-called incantations didn't do anything but trick people and scare ghosts. Real fighting requires real skills. Boy, renounce your master now and become my disciple. With your fast and agile skills, you could be unbeatable in the province within three years!"