bookandnovel Chapter 48 Zhang Xiangyang's Revenge, I'll Take You There
Chapter 48 Zhang Xiangyang's Revenge, I'll Take You There
The crowd fell silent instantly, all eyes focused on the small, thin figure who had suddenly walked into the eye of the storm.
Zhang Yuan walked forward step by step, his hand gripping the knife handle tightly.
Ahead, Qin Hu stood with his arms crossed, looking at him with a cold smile on his lips.
Zhang Yuan walked until he was a few steps away from Qin Hu before stopping.
He was certain that if he drew his sword at this moment and used the Chasing Wind Sword Technique at the Great Perfection level, he could kill Qin Hu in one strike, even if Qin Hu possessed the combat power of a half-step Innate Realm cultivator.
However, if he makes such a direct move, the rumors about Zhang Qingyang defeating a Xiantian at the age of eight will likely continue to spread.
If he has family support and is being nurtured by powerful clans, then it's somewhat understandable.
But Zhang Qingyang is merely the orphan of a captain; how could he possess such combat prowess? This will attract countless prying eyes and probing attacks.
Can Zhang Qingyang withstand these prying tests and probes?
Taking a deep breath, Zhang Yuan loosened his grip on the sword hilt.
Ignoring the menacing soldiers, he stared directly at Qin Hu. Then, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he unhesitatingly pulled out the heavy cloth bag from his pocket, untied the rope, and with a whoosh, poured out the six ingots of official silver, each weighing twenty taels, onto the rough wooden planks of the pier!
A full one hundred and twenty taels!
The silver ingots reflected a dazzling light in the setting sun, instantly attracting the attention of everyone on the dock, eliciting suppressed gasps and greedy gasps.
Zhang Yuan's voice wasn't loud, but it pierced through the noise of the dock with exceptional clarity: "I am Zhang Qingyang. The scarred man on the wooden frame is my friend."
He pointed to the glaring pile of silver on the ground.
"This silver, one hundred and twenty taels. It's for his complete body and the safety of his brother."
Qin Hu stared at the small piles of silver coins on the ground, his eyes gleaming with greed!
This is absolutely a windfall!
He licked his lips, glanced at the corpse on the wooden frame, and then looked at the thin but composed boy in front of him, who was unlike a child.
"Zhang Qingyang? The son of Colonel Zhang Zhenshan?" Qin Hu crossed his arms, feigning a moment of contemplation. "Colonel Zhang, well, I, Qin Hu, also respect him. He's a true hero! Logically speaking, I should give him face..."
He abruptly changed the subject, his gaze greedily landing on the ancient-looking longsword at Zhang Yuan's waist.
"But you think you can just trade someone for this little bit of money? My brothers here can't have worked for nothing, can they? I think... with that knife on your waist, this matter will be settled! What do you say?"
Zhang Yuan remained silent.
He simply and slowly unfastened the ancient long sword from his waist.
The scabbard looked unremarkable, yet it subtly exuded an ancient charm.
He held the scabbard and gently placed it next to the pile of silver ingots.
Seeing this, Qin Hu finally revealed a smug grin, waving his hand and saying, "Haha! That's great! Kid, you know what's good for you! Men, put that kid down and give him back!"
Several gang members rushed forward and hurriedly took Scarface's body off the wooden frame, then slammed it heavily onto the pier.
Zhang Yuan stepped forward, bent down, and gently carried the scarred man's cold, stiff corpse onto his still-slender back.
He immediately steadied himself, straightened his back, turned around silently with the scarred face on his back, and walked step by step, with heavy steps, past Qin Hu, the captain of the soldiers, Xiao Yang, and all the onlookers, toward the weeping little beggars.
The setting sun cast a long shadow of his thin figure carrying the corpse, making it appear as if he were bearing a heavy mountain.
Watching Zhang Yuan's silent departure, Qin Hu felt a sudden jolt in his heart, and an inexplicable chill swept over him.
He muttered under his breath, "Damn, this is weird... Why did I feel a... murderous aura about this kid just now? It chilled me to the bone? He's only eight years old..."
Just then, on a passenger ship not far away, which was preparing to set sail, several passengers dressed as江湖人士 (jianghu figures, people of martial arts background) were loudly discussing the battle of Songshi Town:
"Have you heard? The great battle in Songshi Town! Master Zheng Chaoyang, that was truly formidable! A half-step Grandmaster, suppressing even a Xiantian master with a mere gesture!"
"Of course! What's even more frightening is his apprentice, Zhang Qingyang! He's only eight years old, yet he dares to draw his sword and kill on the battlefield! I heard every strike draws blood; he's incredibly brave!"
"It's not just killing! It's utterly insane! A flash of the blade and a life is gone! No wonder he's Zhang Zhenshan's son! A born general!"
These words drifted clearly on the river breeze, reaching Qin Hu and everyone around him.
Qin Hu's smug smile froze instantly!
He abruptly turned his head to look at the inconspicuous ancient sword and the pile of silver on the ground, then looked up at Zhang Yuan's thin back as he carried the corpse away into the distance. His face instantly turned extremely ugly.
……
Outside the city, there was a desolate, sunny slope.
A new grave has just been built.
Zhang Yuan personally buried Scarface.
He found a fairly flat piece of wood and prepared to carve his name on it.
He asked the few remaining beggar children beside him, "Scarface, what's his real name?"
The young beggars looked at each other blankly. The boy who had informed Zhang Yuan earlier shook his head, his eyes red and swollen, and choked with sobs: "No, I don't know... We all just call him Scarface..."
"We, who either lost our parents or were abandoned, have long...long forgotten who we are..."
The boy with the missing arm, weeping, spoke haltingly:
"Scarface, Scarface was almost able to escape... but... but those beasts, they captured Jiu'er..."
"They said... they were going to sell Jiu'er... sell her to a brothel..."
"Scarface...he heard it...and...he turned around and rushed back..."
Zhang Yuan listened quietly, his back to the setting sun, his figure casting a long, silent shadow on the barren slope.
Zhang Yuan nodded silently and didn't ask any more questions.
He picked up the dagger and, stroke by stroke, forcefully carved three characters onto the wooden plank that served as a tombstone.
Zhang Xiangyang.
After finishing carving, he stood up and glanced at the few little beggars in front of him, their clothes tattered, their bodies covered in wounds, their eyes filled with sadness and confusion about the future.
They were like a flock of shivering, homeless fledglings.
Zhang Yuan's voice was deep and clear, carrying an undeniable power, as it rang out in the evening breeze on the barren slope:
"From now on, you will all take my surname, Zhang."
He pointed at the boy with the missing arm: "You, your name is Zhang Jian."
He then pointed to several other people: "You, Zhang Shi; you, Zhang Zhu; you, Zhang Liang."
The boys whose names were called were all stunned, staring blankly at Zhang Yuan, then at the newly engraved name "Zhang Xiangyang" on the tombstone.
An indescribable bittersweet feeling, along with a sudden sense of belonging, instantly overwhelmed their defenses.
Zhang Jian, who had lost an arm, was the first to kneel down with a "thud," kowtow heavily, and burst into tears:
"Zhang Jian... Thank you, Young Master, for bestowing this name upon me! Thank you, Young Master, for... giving Scarface a place to settle down!"
The other boys also seemed to awaken from a dream, and they all knelt down, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Young Master Zhang Shixie!"
"Thank you, Young Master Zhang Zhu!"
"Young Master Zhang Liang!"
The cries echoed across the barren slope, mourning the departed companions and weeping for finally having a name and "roots".
He looked at the new grave, then at the group of "Zhang family" boys kneeling before him, who finally had a surname.
The ice in his eyes seemed even deeper, but beneath that deep cold, something called foundation was quietly taking root in this land that buried suffering.
"Don't worry, I will avenge Zhang Xiangyang."