Chapter 399: There’s One Restaurant on the Plain Hill, and Two Hammers (6)

The Killing Moon Sect was one of the three major unorthodox factions currently dominating Guangzhou.

You might ask how a sect ended up with a name like “Killing Moon.”

It wasn’t because the sect master was going through a late puberty—unorthodox sects simply favored names that sounded tougher than everyone else’s.

If Qing had known, she probably would’ve said that names trying too hard to sound strong just came off weak. But in any case.

Having a name that sounded wicked and ominous was practically a badge of honor among the unorthodox.

After all, wouldn’t you think twice about someone whose name already screamed “we’re not right in the head”?

Anyway, Guangzhou had long been suppressed under the influence of the Jin Family in Guangdong. But in terms of timing—during the Martial Assembly and the three months that followed—the Jin Clan had completely vanished from Guangzhou.

Which meant that for a brief moment, the unorthodox underworld entered its own Warring States period. And now, the three dominant unorthodox sects—Killing Moon Sect, Guangzhou Immortal Square Sect, and Golden Talisman Sect—had taken a firm grip on the city.

Even after the direct heirs of the Jin Clan returned, they’d been too busy with funerals and couldn’t recover from their losses.

The unorthodox sects, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to solidify their hold, were now practically foaming at the mouth.

And the one they were glaring at with those bloodshot eyes was none other than the talk of Chang’an—a mysterious carpenter-shaman hybrid known as the Earthwork Immortal Lady.

Sect Master Yi Wangchul of the Killing Moon Sect was not pleased.

“So, there was construction today? I heard she brought out quite a bit of material?”

“They say it wasn’t enough for even a full house, Boss.”

“But the point is she started construction, didn’t she! If we just leave her be, next thing you know she’s got laborers gathering again, then servants following after that, and before you know it, we’re the dogs who lost the chicken!”

“Shall we send the boys, Boss?”

“Fucking hell, could you stop with that ‘Boss’ shit already? When did our Killing Moon Sect become such a prestigious martial name that you still call me Boss? Sect Master! Don’t you know how to say Sect Master? Every time you open your damn mouth, it’s Boss this, Boss that. What the hell are the kids supposed to learn from you?”

A proper sect master would never call his disciples “kids.”

“Sect Master. Got it. Sect Master. Boss.”

“You little—!”

“It’s just a habit. I mean, Sect Master.”

General Administrator Wangwoo hurriedly lowered his gaze.

Of course, it wasn’t just a habit.

He’d been tacking on “Boss” deliberately at the end of everything.

After all, some damn half-bred bastard from the Bang clan had weaseled his way into the seat beside the boss acting like some brilliant strategist.

So Wangwoo was deliberately throwing around “Boss” like he was the Sect Master’s sworn little brother. Like he was saying, I’m your right-hand man, and Boss, you wouldn’t do your little brother dirty, would you?

So hearing that same Boss grumble about the “Sect Master” thing stung.

And in the unorthodox world, that kind of sting wasn’t just some mild resentment—it was dangerous. Far more dangerous and underhanded than most people imagined.

“Click your tongue all you want. Just send the boys to rough her up. Chop the limbs and toss them in the market—no matter how gutsy some bastard is, he won’t dare run construction on Jin Clan land after seeing that.”

“Wait. It’d be better if the General Administrator handled this one personally. Word is, that Earthwork Immortal Lady has strength comparable to Xiang Yu himself. If we send some scrubs and they screw it up, we’ll only cause a bigger mess.”

Said the scrawny Bang clan strategist.

Wangwoo’s eyes flared.

“What the hell? You saying we need the number two of Killing Moon Sect, the mighty General Administrator himself, to personally crush some fake shaman bitch?”

“From what I’m seeing, if you send someone below, that guy will just dump it further down, and who knows how far it’ll go. There’s no guarantee anyone will actually get it done.”

“What’d you say? You really got the nerve to open your mouth like that?”

“That’s enough.”

Yi Wangchul finally dropped some weight into his voice.

“The strategist is right. This is an extremely important matter—that’s why I’m entrusting it to you. Now that I think about it, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to handle it either.”

“Ahem. If you’re going to put it like that, Boss, I suppose this little brother’s got no choice. Boss.”

Wangwoo still insisted on the “Boss” to the very end.

And with that, he stood up, shot the strategist one last nasty glare, and spun around to storm out of the room.

Yi Wangchul, left behind in the room, clicked his tongue.

“That little bastard’s getting insolent.”

To which the Bang strategist calmly replied,

“Isn’t that all just his way of expressing loyalty? To think the Sect Master is blessed with such a devoted younger brother—it’s truly a fortune. Still, now that we control the entire region, perhaps it’s time for him to start acting like he’s part of a bigger house. With his temperament, wouldn’t he be better suited for leading a combat unit rather than being General Administrator?”

“Exactly. Wangwoo doesn’t even realize how much you’re looking out for him.”

The strategist just smiled warmly, offering no further comment.

****

To the south of the manor district lay the villa quarter—an area along the coast where the wealthy had built their summer homes.

And among them, one stood out with some bizarre decorations.

Its eaves were fluttering with cloth strips of every color, while the gate was plastered with talismans that made it look like a cursed ghost had been sealed inside.

On top of all that, someone had written something in blood.

Whether it was chicken’s blood or pig’s blood wasn’t clear, but while the eerie decorations were unsettling, the lettering was impeccable—clearly written by a master calligrapher. Which only made it creepier.

Temple of the Beautiful Lady Who Serves the Divine General Xiang Yu.

A shrine to the Beautiful Lady who served the divine war god Xiang Yu.

It was the kind of inscription that made every passerby scoff.

What the hell was a Divine General Xiang Yu, and what shrine was this supposed to be?

“Beautiful Lady,” or Wumei-ren, referred to Consort Yu—one of the so-called Five Great Beauties of the central plains, known for drifting in and out of the top ranks of the “Third Military-Class Beauties.”

The absolute number one beauty in all of Chinese history was Xi Shi—an eternal goddess to all Han people.

And rounding out the other three spots of the Four Great Beauties were Wang Zhaojun, Diaochan, and Yang Guifei.

For the final military tier of legendary women, people filled it in with names like Consort Yu, Daji, and Bi-yun.

So what the hell was a half-assed shaman with a mosquito net over her face doing calling herself Wumei-ren?

She might as well be claiming to be Consort Yu herself.

“Which is exactly why we need to see that bitch’s face.”

“Kekeke, Hammer bro, what the hell are you expecting to see under that veil? She’s hiding her face for a reason. You lift that thing, you’ll probably lose your appetite. Might even go limp from the horror. Why not just keep the veil on and spin her around a few times instead?”

At that, Hammer tapped the back of the guy’s head.

Hammer was the right-hand man of Wangwoo, General Administrator of the Killing Moon Sect.

It wasn’t because his forehead and the back of his head stuck out like a mallet, but rather because he liked to actually hammer people alive until they were crushed. That’s why they called him Hammer.

With Hammer swaggering around at the very front, it was clear: Wangwoo had disobeyed orders and gone ahead and sent a subordinate anyway.

“You didn’t see the size of that bitch? Never mind your appetite—when she swings that hammer, it’s all muscle, all the way through. You wanna wrap your arms around a woman made of pure muscle?”

“Even better.”

“Freak.”

For the unorthodox scum, vulgar jokes were as natural as breathing.

They joined the unorthodox path in the first place to freely swing the thing between their legs however they liked.

They had grand ambitions—become strong and do whatever they wanted. Especially when it came to women.

Whether to call that pathetic or just honest was another matter.

One of them quietly scaled the wall.

Even so, he moved with agility, smoothly climbing and dropping down the other side.

He quietly opened the gate.

The moment he did, the bells hanging on the door jingled, making all the unorthodox fighters flinch. But it was still the dead of night in the hour of the Ox—there was no sign of life.

“What’s with all these fucking bells?”

“That’s how these shamans are. All the same.”

“Ugh. Creepy as hell.”

Though the villa was a luxury property, the yard was spacious and only one lone building stood inside.

“Hey, rookies. Keep watch.”

“You mean us?”

At that, Hammer smacked one of the younger guys on the head.

“You little punk. Got a big head now, huh? Got some juniors under you now? I’ll call you in when it’s time to enjoy yourself. Until then, keep your eyes open and watch for anything suspicious.”

The Earthwork Immortal Lady’s strength was infamous.

People had seen her lift pillars and slam them down all by herself—and no one doubted her when she claimed to serve the divine war god Xiang Yu.

So even the unorthodox fighters sent to capture her weren’t mere thugs—they were mid-grade martial artists with some real combat under their belts.

Leaving two behind, the rest began cautiously approaching the villa.

The youngest and his direct senior watched them go, the senior giving the rookie a nudge on the shoulder.

“You listen carefully at the gate and see if anyone’s coming. I’m gonna take a look around over there.”

In most villa layouts, the storage room, servant quarters, and kitchen were built right along the outer wall.

The place the senior nodded toward with his chin was a structure bulging inward from the wall—likely the storage room.

“Hey, aren’t you just gonna loot the storage? Let me come with.”

“Oh? Got promoted to squad leader and now you think you’ve got balls? You gonna talk back to your senior?”

“...No, sir.”

“Do your job right. Got it?”

The rookie’s face twisted like he’d just bitten into something rotten.

With so many new recruits coming in, everyone was getting promoted—he was squad leader, the other guy was squad leader—how long was he planning to keep calling himself ‘senior’?

But hey, if it bothered him, he should’ve joined earlier.

The rookie let out a loud, exaggerated inhale.

He wasn’t sighing because he was frustrated—he was deliberately preparing a fake sigh, the kind that scratched at your nerves, just loud enough for that asshole to hear—

Grab.

A brutal hand suddenly clamped over his mouth.

At the same time, pressure tightened around his neck, choking his airway so no sound could come out.

He kicked and struggled, but then something lifted him entirely off the ground.

His legs flailed for a moment in the air before they went limp, dangling down.

****

Meanwhile, the guy who had slipped into the storage room let out a relieved breath.

There were walls all around, and the moment he opened the door, warmth poured out. It was a welcome relief.

What kind of idiot sneaks around in this cold anyway? he had just been thinking, so he broke into a grin and hurried inside, trying not to let the warm air escape.

“Why the hell’s there a fire going in a storage room?”

Sure enough, a soft glow flickered inside. Someone had left a brazier filled with burning charcoal.

“Ohh, this is heaven.”

It was a leap month this year, meaning the harshest cold of the year fell right in this period. And this? This was the coldest time of the night.

Of course, Qing would’ve snorted and said this wasn’t cold at all—autumn in Hubei was worse than this.

But for a born-and-raised Guangzhou native, this was freezing.

So he eagerly stepped in, letting the warmth melt into his skin and savoring the tingling heat that followed as he moved toward the brazier.

Then—suddenly—he locked eyes with a man who was staring directly at him.

Wait, not one man. Men.

For some reason, one by one, guys who had been lying on mats and rolled-up sleeping bags on the floor were starting to rise.

“Who—?”

“Silence.”

The voice was layered with inner force, and it cut off the unorthodox fighter’s question.

“I am Jin Jagang. You’ve heard the name, haven’t you?”

There wasn’t a soul in Guangzhou who didn’t know the name of the Jin Clan’s head.

The unorthodox fighter’s eyes darted frantically.

But all he could register was that there were a lot of them—and not a single one looked friendly.

“Don’t make a sound. If you shout, unfortunately, I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”

And with that, the fighter slapped a hand over his own mouth in terror.

Then—click—the door of the storage room shut.

“Would you be so kind as to kneel?”

The request was surprisingly polite. It gave the unorthodox man a flash of hope, and he dropped to his knees with a rustle.

Unorthodox fighters had light knees. They dropped them fast.

“I plan to tie you up. If you resist, it’ll get very unpleasant. Will you resist?”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

“Hmm. At least you follow instructions.”

At that, Jin Jagang, the middle-aged patriarch of the Jin Family, gave a small nod.

Moments later, the unorthodox fighter was tied up tight and laid out on the floor.

Soon after, another man was tossed down beside him—also tied up and completely limp.

The Jin family warriors began quietly filing out of the storage room. Jin Jagang was the last to leave, but just as he stepped out, he paused and turned back.

“Oh, right. Did I mention... even if you don’t shout, I’m still going to kill you? You might want to get your heart in order while you still have time.”

“Mmmph—!”

The unorthodox fighter let out a muffled scream.

But the only response was creak, thud—the sound of the storage door closing shut.