activa-t Chapter 18 Musketeers
Chapter 18 Musketeers
While Li Wenyong was extremely busy...
An unsigned message was delivered to a small red building by a errand boy in the British concession.
In the study of the Little Red House, the curtains were tightly drawn. The light only illuminated a corner of the desk, while the rest of the room remained in shadow.
A middle-aged man in a silk mandarin jacket leaned back in a high-backed chair. After listening to his subordinate's retelling, the two jade beads he was holding between his fingers stopped.
"Li Wenyong, Zhou Xing..."
He slowly repeated the two names, "Ruan Wenzhong died under suspicious circumstances. We were raided in the 'incense hall' of the repair shop, and Mr. Qin's body was nowhere to be found."
Now that the Annamese monkey surnamed Li has taken power, the first thing he did was help Zhou Xing take He Jiu away.
Before him stood a man in short clothes with his hands at his sides, while a man in black robes sat quietly as if he were a statue.
"He Jiu".
The middle-aged man raised his eyelids and said, "Ruan Wenzhong arrested him because he had some 'hard stuff' that came from an old grave."
Ruan Wenzhong was greedy and wanted to keep it all for himself, so I slowly wore him down without reporting it to me. Now, we haven't gotten the goods, but the man is in Zhou Xing's hands.
A hoarse voice came from within the black robe:
"Chief, Zhou Xing should have died from the 'flower-shooting' technique a month ago, but he survived."
The Hundred Flowers Pavilion captured Hong Shao, the club helped Ip Man break the deadlock, and there's still no news from Black Tsukasa, who was sent this afternoon. This guy has become a variable.
"variable?"
The leader corrected him, and the jade gall bladder slowly began to rotate again.
"It's a nail. A nail that's messed up several places. What do you think he's trying to do?"
You escaped death a month ago, why are you coming back to die?
The man in black robes finally spoke, his voice dry and hoarse: "What do you mean?"
The leader smiled slightly:
"Whatever he's up to, he's not here to have tea with us."
"Kurozuka must have fallen at his hands. There needs to be an explanation for what happened to the Iga school."
The man in short clothes stepped forward and made a throat-slitting gesture:
"Chief, I'll take men to search..."
Where are you going to look?
The leader interrupted, his tone flat, "He brought He Jiu with him, so he must be going to the Ghost Market. There are only a few entrances; controlling them is better than searching the whole world for someone."
He looked up at the man in short clothes:
"Zhou Xing's skill level is unknown, but he was able to kill Kurozuka, so he is definitely not an ordinary person."
Send the "Grey Sparrow" team to the old ferry crossing. Surround it before midnight tonight, the sooner the better.
If Zhou Xingzhen really brings He Jiu here... then we'll deal with it on the spot. It's not unusual for a couple of people to die at the entrance of the Ghost Market.
"clear."
The man bowed, "'Grey Sparrow', set off immediately."
The leader waved his hand, and the man in short clothes quietly withdrew.
The study returned to silence.
The leader opened a drawer, took out a palm-sized purple copper incense burner, and lit a piece of dark brown spice.
Wisps of smoke rose, twisting into strange shapes in the dim light, and a cloying, sultry fragrance filled the air.
He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Like a water clock.
……
Zhou Xing settled He Jiu's mother in a trusted acquaintance's home in the old city, leaving her enough money and rice to last half a month.
The old lady assumed her son was going on a long trip for the government, and wiped away her tears as she told him to "be careful."
After leaving the house, Zhou Xing took He Jiu to Guyi Street.
He bought himself a slightly worn gray cloth jacket, an old felt hat, and a pair of thick-soled cloth shoes.
He Jiu changed into a padded jacket and trousers that coolies often wore.
Passing by a general store, I bought two pounds of unleavened flatbread, a bag of coarse salt, and a small bottle of strong liquor.
Finally, at a stall next to a blacksmith's shop, I bought a bundle of hemp rope, a few three-inch-long steel nails, and a piece of tung oil cloth.
There aren't many items, but they're practical.
Wrap the cakes and salt in tung oil cloth, tie hemp rope around your waist, insert steel nails into your leg wraps, and fill a flat pot with strong liquor.
The nameless short sword of the Miya family was tucked into his lower back, and the ninja dagger was in his boot.
He Jiu watched Zhou Xing prepare at a leisurely pace, hesitated for a moment, and said:
"Sir, are we really going to go like this? Tao Zhugong's place is not a place for reasoning."
"What's the point of reasoning?"
Zhou Xing checked the chamber of the Colt pistol; it was full of seven rounds. He then put it back into the holster under his arm.
"The 'ghost market' only operates on rules and leverage. We have leverage."
He patted the tortoise shell he had taken from under He Jiu's bed. It was cold to the touch, with deep, sharp lines, and exuded an aura of ancient gloom.
"Just lead the way, look around less, ask fewer questions, and stick close to me."
He Jiu chuckled and nodded.
As dusk fell, the two left the city and headed towards the old ferry crossing on the lower reaches of the Haihe River.
Two or three miles from the ferry crossing, Zhou Xing slowed his pace.
"Let's scout ahead first."
He glanced at the sky. "It's still early. Take a closer look at the terrain."
He Jiu nodded.
Zhou Xing tiptoed toward the dark, abandoned dock in the twilight.
Instead of taking the main road, they deliberately chose to walk through weeds and piles of rocks, their figures appearing and disappearing with the undulating terrain.
The wind by the old river carried a damp chill, making one's skin feel tight.
In the distance, the dock lights twinkled, and the muffled whistles of cargo ships drifted by.
The old ferry crossing is further west, long abandoned, with only some dilapidated piers and rusty pontoon skeletons still submerged in the water.
Zhou Xing lay hidden behind a half-collapsed earthen wall, observing quietly.
The sound of energy spreading out silently.
The sound of wind, the sound of water, and the occasional cry of a night bird in the distance...
There were no unusual human voices or footsteps heard at the moment.
The entrance is near this mudflat, but He Jiu said the exact location is only clear when the fog rolls in and the lights come on.
He waited patiently, his gaze sweeping over every corner where someone might be hiding.
About 15 minutes later, faint footsteps and voices could be heard in the distance.
Zhou Xing immediately lowered his body even further, slowed his breathing, and almost blended into his surroundings.
Three people arrived.
A gaunt old man carrying a rattan trunk, and two strong men carrying burlap sacks.
They stopped by the mudflats, exchanged a few words in hushed tones, and then each found a place to sit and wait, keeping a distance from each other without speaking.
They were guests going to the ghost market.
Zhou Xing noted down their location and continued waiting.
About an incense stick's time later, his ears twitched slightly.
Another person has arrived.
More than one. Their footsteps, some deep, some shallow, were deliberately suppressed.
At least six or seven people.
Three of them had long, even breaths, with barely audible pauses between breaths, and steady, powerful heartbeats, indicating they were trained martial artists with considerable skill.
There was also a very faint "click" sound, like metal rubbing against wood. It was very light, but it did not escape Zhou Xing's ears.
It's a gun.
It's a fast gun.
Zhou Xing's heart tightened. Something was wrong. This group didn't seem like customers from the Ghost Market; they looked more like a well-trained musketeer squad.
"...Midnight...lights on...wait..."
"...That Zhou Xing...is he really coming?"
"...Orders from above...open fire on sight...don't hold back on ammunition..."
"...Damn it, there are so many mosquitoes in this godforsaken place..."
"...There's someone there, but they don't look like it..."
They came from the west, and under the cover of the wild grass and the night, they quickly dispersed, searched for gaps in the vicinity, and each found an ambush position.
Zhou Xing's heart sank. It was aimed at him.
Charity?
If he were to be targeted by seven or eight skilled gunmen at his Ming Jin level, he could be riddled with bullets in a second.
He grabbed He Jiu, pressed him to the ground, made a shushing gesture, and held his breath.
The mud wall where he hid was in a secluded location, behind a pile of broken wooden boxes, covered by weeds; it was a carefully chosen hiding place.
But one of the gunmen, probably thinking the view from behind the wall was good, was walking straight toward them!