Chapter 41: Borrowing the Copper Coin Treasure Blade

Little Rascal and I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a hail of steel pellets.

Master Jiese grumbled, “Are robbers even targeting old pork now?” I cursed back, “How the hell should I know?” While air guns might not be as deadly as real firearms, those pellets could still kill. With no other choice, Little Rascal and I retreated, running backward as we went. Two figures rushed forward, hoisted the wild boar Yang Pao onto their shoulders, tossed him onto a speedboat, and sped off without hesitation.

In an instant, they vanished on the river, leaving no trace behind. Jiese was furious, cursing loudly with no regard for monkly decorum. “Damn it, he got away again! Just our rotten luck. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to catch him now?”

I sighed, “That wasn’t just a wild boar—that was fifty grand slipping away.”

Wait a minute. The way those two moved—so quick and precise with their air guns—it felt familiar. Their agility reminded me of the ninja who’d leapt onto the ceiling fan earlier. Effortless, fluid. Lifting and tossing a several-hundred-pound boar like it was nothing.

Jiese, using the dim glow of my phone, searched the wall for ages but still couldn’t find the last missing prayer bead. He was beyond frustrated.

We were *this* close—one final strike to end Yang Pao’s miserable life—and he escaped. I sat beside Jiese. “Brother, I get it. Losing fifty grand hurts. But don’t worry, we’ll track him down. You said we needed a proper blade to kill him, right?”

Jiese nodded. “Exactly. Without a good butcher’s cleaver, it’s tough. That hide’s thick as hell—hard to even find a spot to bleed him properly.”

I grinned. “I know who has the perfect butcher’s blade. We can borrow it.”

Jiese suddenly stood up, snapping, “You idiot! What about that singer—your woman? Who knows what Yang Pao’ll do to her now? He’s human again, full of dog’s blood, and out for revenge. You smashed his crotch—you think he’ll just let that slide?”

His words hit like a hailstorm. I staggered, barely catching myself on the railing before tumbling off the wrecked boat. Two persistent water ghouls peeked out, but one glare from me sent them slinking back into the depths.

Jiese exhaled sharply. “Letting a tiger return to the mountains without finishing it—endless trouble will follow.”

I collapsed to the ground, the horror sinking in. If Meng Liuchuan’s men had rescued Yang Pao, Jiese’s warning was dead-on: the fallout would be catastrophic.

“Back to the bar,” Jiese urged. “Check on that singer.”

I steeled myself. *Ji Qianqian can’t come to harm.* Mustering my strength, I followed Jiese off the dredger. Noticing his missing shirt, he sheepishly asked if I could buy him one, promising to pay me back later. At a street stall, I grabbed a gaudy red top for him. The bright color turned heads all the way back, women gawking at his “trendy” look.

By the time we reached the riverside bar, Ji Qianqian was gone. Gao Mo handed me a note. “She left her number. Said to call if you have time—if not, no worries. She had to rush home to her kid.”

Chen Tutu eyed me with amusement. “Kid’s got a thing for married women, huh?”

Zhong Li crossed her arms, approaching Jiese. “Hey, little monk—my bad for splashing you earlier. Apologies.”

Jiese chuckled dismissively and ignored her, turning to me instead. “Call her. Have her meet you, or go to her.”

I hesitated, then dialed. *The number you have reached is currently switched off.* Jiese urged, “Try again.” Still nothing. My hands shook. “You think something’s wrong?”

“Ask the bar owner where she lives,” Jiese suggested. But the owner shrugged. “She’s a great singer, comes twice a week. No clue where she lives—just here to earn cash.”

Chen Tutu stepped in. “Don’t panic. I’ll get her address.” A quick call to her police contacts did the trick. Gao Mo drove us to Ji Qianqian’s place. At her doorstep, I froze. *What if her husband answers?*

Jiese scoffed. “We’re already here. If she’s divorced, even better—you can marry her.” I smirked. “Never took you for such a liberal monk.”

Zhong Li muttered, “So cool.”

No one answered the door. At our feet, a line of tiny black centipedes crawled. Jiese frowned. “Why are these here?” I squinted—*my centipedes, the ones meant for Meng Liuchuan.* Had he taken her?

Chen Tutu called the police. When officers arrived and forced the door open, the apartment was spotless—no signs of struggle.

The cop sighed. “Single mom with a little girl. Tough life, but she’s always home at night. Must be trouble.”

I snapped, “What about the husband?”

The officer shook his head. “No husband. The girl’s adopted. She never married.”

My ears rang. *I thought you were happy. But you’ve been suffering all along…*

Jiese growled, “Crying won’t help. We need to find who took them.”

Gritting my teeth, I said, “This is my mess. Sorry for wasting your night.”

I turned to Gao Mo. “Lend me your car. I’ll be back in hours. Anyone got cash? I’ll repay you.” The women pooled a few thousand. Jiese sheepishly offered five yuan. “It’s the thought.”

Gao Mo started to protest, but Chen Tutu stopped her. “Xiao Qi, be careful. Your hand’s still hurt. Need a driver?”

“I’ll manage.” Snatching Gao Mo’s keys, I bolted downstairs.

Chen Tutu whispered, “Let him go. Old enemies. But we’ll still report this—likely a kidnapping.”

Jiese added, “Police won’t help with underworld grudges. Xiao Qi’s on his own. Find me at Guiyuan Temple if needed.”

Gao Mo’s Mercedes handled beautifully. Within half an hour, I was on the highway, pushing 200 km/h, cameras flashing as I blew past.

My phone finally buzzed as I exited the highway. Ji Qianqian’s voice, frantic: *”Save me, Xiao Qi!”*

I snarled, “You bastard, Meng Liuchuan! Come at *me*!”

A cold laugh. *”Xiao Sang, temper temper. Remember what you did to me? Think it over. Tomorrow. Or your precious first love… well, let’s just say Yang Pao’s not feeling forgiving after what you did to him.”*

“Touch her, and I’ll skin you alive.”

The mountain road to Baishui Village was pitch-black, treacherous even for seasoned drivers. But I gunned the engine, swerving through the curves, the car teetering on edges before somehow righting itself—as if mountain spirits guided me.

Parking in a hollow, I sprinted to the village, pounding on the chief’s door. “Unchief! It’s the Long family grandson! I need Zhang Dagan—urgent!”

Bai Guangde opened up, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Take me to Zhang Dagan. Now.”

Without question, he grabbed a flashlight. Zhang Dagan was prepping pigs for market, surprised to see me. “College boy? What brings you?”

“Uncle Dagan, come with me. I’ll pay you ten grand.”

He waved it off. “Just tell me what you need.”

I gripped his arm. “Bring your butcher tools. We’re killing a pig.”

He laughed. “That’s it? Give me a sec.” Handing me a sack, he asked, “Need help in the hills?”

“No. I know the way. Even the ghosts avoid me.”

I pressed 200 yuan into Bai Guangde’s hand. “For the trouble.”

Zhang Dagan refused most of the cash. “Three hundred’s enough for my time. Pay the rest after. Just feed me some pork later.”

Tearing off my bloody bandages, I marched to the back hills, dumping the sack. “Get out here! We’re hunting.”

Baishui’s woods teemed with venomous creatures—scorpions, snakes—but nothing compared to the deadly breeds further south. Half a sack later, I was ready.

Passing Bai Jingren’s grave, I paused—the iron weight sealing it was gone.