Starting from 1618 of the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 20 Violence for Violence

Night fell, and the rain intensified. The night in Jinan was like a thick, black cauldron, overturned over the Luokou Wharf. The daytime hustle and bustle had faded away, and the cold rain of late spring continued to fall, washing the bluestone path along the riverbank until it was slippery and chilly.

Located on the south side of the pier, "Fish Market Lane" was the only way to Luk Kee Carriage and Horse Company's camp, and it was also a complex shantytown. On weekdays, it was a gathering place for gambling dens, prostitutes, and salt smugglers, and the air was always filled with the smell of rotten fish, stinking shrimp, and cheap cosmetics.

Tonight, Fish Market Lane is eerily quiet.

In the "Drunken Immortal Abode," a two-story restaurant deep in the alley, Ma Sanye, the leader of the Weishui Gang known as "Crossing the River Dragon," sat in a grand chair by the window, twirling two walnuts in his hands, his face so gloomy it could drip water.

At his feet knelt Lai San, a former gangster who had been released during the day. Half his face was swollen like a steamed bun, and he was crying and wailing, "Sir, that scholar surnamed Lu is too cruel! He not only beat our men, but he also threw your name card into the latrine... He said that Luokou Wharf will no longer belong to the Ma family, but to the Lu family!"

"Bang!"

The walnut in Master Ma's hand was crushed to pieces. He stood up abruptly, the hair on his chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing. He had been in Jinan for twenty years, building his empire with a sharp knife and ruthless methods. Even the head constables of the government had to give him some face. He had never suffered such humiliation before.

"Two thousand taels?" Master Ma sneered, his voice like a rusty saw blade scraping against bone. "You still want to demolish my ancestral hall? Fine, very well!"

He turned around and looked down at the dense crowd below.

That was the main force of the Weishui Gang, deployed in full force. More than three hundred strong men, all dressed in identical black silk short jackets, with white cloth strips tied around their arms (for identification in night combat). They carried broadswords, iron rulers, short axes, and even a few cheap muskets they had acquired from who-knows-where. The torches had been extinguished by the rain, but the fierce glint in the eyes of these desperados shone brighter than the flames.

"Brothers!" Master Ma walked to the window, his voice hoarse. "Tonight, we're not doing anything else, just this meal! Those outsiders want to smash our pots and pans, so we'll burn their shacks to ashes! Drown all the men in the river, and sell the women to brothels! Let's go!"

At a command, more than three hundred people surged into Fish Market Alley like a burst dam, their killing intent palpable.

Unbeknownst to them, the dark rooftops on both sides of the alley were already covered with figures that looked like sculptures.

Lu Yan stood atop an abandoned watchtower at the alley entrance, his blue cloth robe fluttering in the wind. He carried no umbrella, and raindrops slid down his brow bone.

"They're here," Zhao Changying whispered beside him, his powerful bow already fully drawn.

"It's a quarter of an hour later than expected." Lu Yan glanced at the hourglass, his tone as indifferent as if he were discussing the progress of a project. "This is a common problem with gangsters—their assembly efficiency is too low, and their discipline is too poor."

He pointed to the narrow, muddy alleyway below, piled high with debris: "Changying, this Fish Market Alley is no more than ten feet wide, but it's three hundred paces long. In engineering terms, this is called 'piping,' and in military strategy, it's called 'death ground.'"

"Three hundred people were crammed into a tube that was only ten feet wide. Those in front couldn't move, and those in the back couldn't see anything. The advantage in numbers was not an advantage at all, but a disaster."

Lu Yan gently closed the folding fan in his hand, making a crisp "snap" sound.

"Close the door and beat the dog."

"boom!"

The piles of debris at both ends of the alley—old fishing nets, abandoned boat planks, and haystacks soaked in kerosene—were set ablaze almost simultaneously.

Flames shot into the sky, and even rain could not extinguish this specially made raging fire.

"Fire! Fire!"

"Wait! The road ahead is blocked!"

The Wei Shui Gang's ranks were thrown into chaos. The thugs at the front tried to retreat but bumped into the surging crowd behind them. Curses and shoving erupted in the narrow alley.

Just then, countless torches suddenly lit up on the rooftops on both sides of the alley.

"put!"

Zhao Tie roared angrily.

Dozens of men from Group A, who were already prepared, hurled packages of things down from the roof.

That wasn't stone, nor was it boiling oil; it was lime powder.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

The paper package exploded above the crowd's heads, and white dust, carried by the wind, instantly filled the entire alley.

"Ah! My eyes!"

"Cough cough cough! What is this?! It's so spicy!"

Screams instantly pierced the night sky. More than three hundred people huddled together, with nowhere to hide. The lime powder seeped into their eyes, nostrils, and throats, instantly rendering these normally fierce thugs powerless. They rolled around in the muddy water, covering their faces, like a group of loaches thrown into boiling water.

"Don't panic! Don't panic! Close your eyes! Charge out!" Master Ma, being an old hand at the game, held his breath and swung his knife, felling two of his haphazardly charging subordinates, trying to regain his composure. "Charge to the front! Kill them!"

However, when the thugs in the front row, their eyes red and swollen, stumbled and rushed to the firewall at the alley entrance, they witnessed a scene that filled them with despair.

Behind the firewall, thirty Lu family servants, dressed in rattan armor and carrying long spears, formed a tight square formation.

Five people in one row, six rows deep.

At the narrow alleyway entrance, this is a moving steel wall.

"prick!"

Zhao Changying had somehow jumped to the front of the battle line, his staff replaced by a heavy steel spear.

"Pfft!"

The synchronized thrusting sounds were like sickles reaping crops. The dozen or so thugs at the forefront hadn't even seen their opponents' faces before being pierced through the heart by three-meter-long bamboo spears (with iron tips).

"Enter!"

At the corporal's command, the first platoon lowered their guns and took a step back; the second platoon stepped forward and thrust again.

Precise as a machine, cold as an assembly line.

This is not a brawl, this is a massacre.

Master Ma went mad. He brandished his fine steel broadsword, relying on his superb martial arts skills, and managed to parry two spears that were thrusting at him. He roared and charged towards Zhao Changying in the center of the formation.

"Go to hell, you little brat!"

This strike was powerful and heavy, carrying the full force of Master Ma's life's work.

Instead of retreating, Zhao Changying advanced, his steel-tipped spear suddenly trembling, the tip of the spear quivering and producing three spear flowers.

"collapse!"

The spear shaft slammed into the blade, the immense recoil causing Master Ma's hand to crack and the broadsword to fly out of his grasp.

Before he could react, Zhao Changying's spear tip had already burrowed into his thigh like a venomous snake.

"what!"

The once-powerful warlord let out a mournful scream and knelt down in the mud.

"Tie them up." Lu Yan stood on the high place, his voice still calm. "The rest of you, if you don't want to die, kneel down and put your hands on your heads."

The Wei Shui Gang collapsed.

That fear of being "invincible" completely shattered their psychological defenses. Seeing their leader captured and their comrades wailing on the ground, the remaining two hundred-odd people dropped their weapons, knelt in the muddy lime water, and trembled.

The rain continued to fall, washing away the bloodstains and white dust on the ground, forming a murky stream that flowed into the dark canal.

Lu Yan walked down the watchtower and waded through the mud to stand in front of Master Ma.

At this moment, Master Ma was no longer as arrogant as before. He clutched his bleeding thigh and looked at the frail scholar with fear in his eyes.

"Master Lu... please spare my life..."

Lu Yan ignored his pleas for mercy, merely raising his eyes slightly to speak to Hu Jingshui behind him:

"Old Hu, put it in the books."

"Tonight we'll use 500 catties of quicklime, 300 bamboo spears, 10 jars of kerosene, and the cost of wearing out the spears, plus the brothers' night shift pay... a total of 3,000 taels."

"This debt is on Chief Ma's shoulders. He'll only get his leg back put back on when he's paid it off."