Chapter 14: Hurting Others, Hurting Oneself

On the back of Muyu Island, a three-courtyard residence stood tall. Compared to the elegance of the Chief, this house was far more rugged; though it appeared luxurious, it could not conceal the unmistakable air of a nouveau riche.

At this very moment, in the main hall, a man clad in brocade robes sat grandly upon a chair. His complexion was sallow, a scar marred his left cheek, his eyebrows and eyes fierce, his thin lips giving him a somewhat harsh appearance. With his eyes half shut, he rolled two iron balls in his hands, as if pondering deeply. This man was none other than Zhao Meng, the Third Chief, renowned for his Seven Wounds Fist.

Born into poverty, Zhao Meng had toiled as a laborer and mingled in gangs, rising through sheer audacity and grit. His mettle won the favor of Ironman Tu, and he claimed the third seat among the River Raiders.

“What is Jiang Wang up to these days?” He opened his eyes, casting his gaze toward Zhao Er, his trusted aide and adopted son. Zhao Er was not originally surnamed Zhao, but after being taken in, he adopted the name.

“Father, after descending from Muyu Peak, Jiang Wang returned to his house and has not left since.” Zhao Er’s voice was low as he reported all he had found, not daring to be careless even as an adopted son, knowing Zhao Meng’s temperament.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Meng’s eyes narrowed to a slit, a wolfish glint flashing within.

“So he truly thinks he’s grown wings, doesn’t even spare his old superior a glance. Hmph.” With a cold laugh, Zhao Meng squeezed the iron balls in his hand.

He had never been fully content with Jiang Wang; only because Jiang Wang was capable and useful did he tolerate him. Now, Jiang Wang’s behavior had pushed Zhao Meng’s dissatisfaction to its peak. To him, this was nothing less than betrayal.

Zhao Er lowered his head quietly before his master.

“Go to Baihe and tell Qian Wen to increase the profits from the Golden Sands.”

Suppressing his anger, Zhao Meng made his decision.

Zhao Er’s expression grew solemn at these words.

“Father, how much do you wish to increase it?”

He looked at Zhao Meng, unease stirring in his heart.

The Golden Sands mine at Baihe had originally been discovered by their faction by chance. Yet the matter was too big to conceal, so it was brought into the open. Despite this, their early advantage allowed them to station many men there.

Though the mine had only just been established, secret mining had already begun long ago. In essence, this was undermining the River Raiders. If the Chief discovered it, things could end badly; Zhao Er could not help but feel tense. A small amount could be hidden, but too much would be difficult.

“Fifty percent.”

Without hesitation, Zhao Meng gave his answer.

Hearing this number, Zhao Er’s face changed. He opened his mouth to speak, but met Zhao Meng’s cold gaze and dared not utter a word.

“I understand, Father. I will go to Baihe at once.”

He bowed his head in acquiescence.

Zhao Meng nodded in satisfaction at his subordinate’s obedience.

“Take this as well. Before heading to Baihe, visit Jiang Wang for me. Tell him that the Golden Sands mine has just begun operation, so yields may be low—he need not be anxious. Work steadily, and I will support him to weather these three years peacefully.”

There was something subtle in his words. Zhao Meng tossed a bottle of pills to Zhao Er—Blood Replenishing Pills, used to restore a martial artist’s vitality. Though not as potent as Tiger Leopard Pills, their value was considerable.

As Zhao Er accepted the medicine and looked at Zhao Meng, he suddenly understood.

“Yes, Father!”

He bowed again and hurried from the residence.

Watching Zhao Er’s departing figure, Zhao Meng fell once more into contemplation.

“Let’s hope Jiang Wang knows his place and doesn’t block my path. Otherwise, even if he becomes Fourth Chief, I’ll slaughter him. Baihe may be small, but even small rivers can drown a man.”

His ferocity was apparent; murderous intent stirred within Zhao Meng.

Truth be told, Jiang Wang’s chance to become Fourth Chief and oversee the Golden Sands mine was not his ideal outcome, but it was still acceptable. After all, Jiang Wang counted as one of his own. If Jiang Wang was willing to align with him, Zhao Meng would not mind sharing some of the mine’s profits. But Jiang Wang’s conduct had disappointed him deeply.

As these thoughts churned, Zhao Meng’s inner fire grew ever more intense.

Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted his heart, and he began to cough violently. Sensing the onset, Zhao Meng hastily took out a pill and shakily swallowed it. In moments, he regained composure.

“The Seven Wounds Fist harms its wielder before it harms others. Years of frequent combat have brought me to a point of no return.”

Knowing his condition had worsened, Zhao Meng’s face was dark. Though he was only thirty, the youngest of the three chiefs, his appearance was that of a man in his forties or fifties, with white hair at his temples—the price of mastering the Seven Wounds Fist.

“Chief, when you taught me the Seven Wounds Fist, what were you really planning? Did you intend to use my life to build your empire?”

He gazed through the window at Muyu Peak bathed in sunlight, venom flashing in his eyes. In that instant, all gratitude for Ironman Tu’s promotion was cast aside, replaced by resentment.

“The power of martial arts is finite, yet the power of the Immortal Path is limitless. To solve my current predicament, only a cultivator can help—but their price is steep. I need more Golden Sands.”

The thought stirred, and Zhao Meng’s craving for Golden Sands grew fiercer.

Compared to Zhao Er, he understood Ironman Tu’s terrifying power and the risk of expanding the mine’s share. Yet he had no better choices. Without risk, death was certain; with risk, a sliver of hope remained.

Meanwhile, after leaving Zhao Meng’s house, Zhao Er wasted no time. He selected a few suitable items from his collection at home, took the Blood Replenishing Pills, and headed directly to Jiang Chen’s residence.

As Zhao Meng’s confidant, Zhao Er knew something of his master’s situation. For this reason, unless forced, he was reluctant to offend Jiang Chen, and would even try to befriend him.

As Ironman Tu’s appointed overseer of the Golden Sands mine, if Jiang Chen cooperated, their risk of swallowing up Golden Sands would be greatly reduced—a boon for both their faction and Zhao Er himself.

“Let’s hope all goes well.”

With hope and anxiety in his heart, Zhao Er followed Stone to Jiang Chen’s small courtyard.