Chapter Seven: Ambition

Chen Fan was still not yet fourteen years old. Although his body had grown stronger and more proportioned from recent martial training, time had been too short. Even now, he appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary boy, no longer scrawny but certainly not yet a man. He was indeed taller than most boys his age, but not to an exaggerated degree. No one could possibly imagine the terrifying strength hidden within his frame.

In his home, aside from himself, there were only his eldest sister-in-law and the young Chen Xi—neither of whom could possibly be considered a threat by Wang Gang. Chen Fan narrowed his eyes, his heart burning with rage, but he did not lose his basic sense of reason. Pi Liu was regarded as a tough character on Sophora Street, but the lowly ruffians under his command amounted to nothing—merely a little more shameless than ordinary folk, certainly not skilled martial artists.

Even so, Chen Fan did not act rashly. For the Black Tiger Gang to reign as the underground emperor of Feiling County, there must be martial experts among them—of that, Chen Fan had no doubt. Drawing on his experience from his previous life, he well understood the importance of knowing both oneself and one’s enemy. Over the past month, he had subtly probed for information about Pi Liu and his crew, and his efforts had yielded much.

He had uncovered the basic facts about Pi Liu’s group, though much still eluded him. Narrowing his eyes, he thought: Just as well—I was worrying about how to gauge Pi Liu’s true strength. Since that’s the case, I’ll start with this Wang fellow!

An unprecedented chill glinted in Chen Fan’s eyes. He carried the memories of a past life; all told, the experiences of decades. Though he had resolved to strike at Wang Gang, he did not charge in recklessly. He maintained his usual routines, frequenting the public areas of the surrounding neighborhoods, still probing for news of Pi Liu’s movements, and quietly making preparations.

He managed to acquire some lime from a renovation site in the county, wrapping it in cloth to keep with him. He also concocted a highly concentrated chili water from the dried peppers found in every household, storing it in a ceramic bottle. He was imitating a predecessor known as the “Lime Saint of Martial Arts.” If need be, he could become the Chili Water Saint!

Though Chen Fan’s strength had advanced rapidly, far surpassing ordinary people, he cared nothing for whether his methods were “honorable.” Should he stumble and fall, it would not be just himself who suffered, but also his two family members.

Late at night, Chen Fan pretended to rest, locked his door from the inside, and slipped out through the window. The moon was shrouded by dark clouds. Dressed all in black, with several extra layers to make himself appear bulkier, his face covered, he moved cautiously and silently. Now his body was agile and his senses sharp, and with so few people on the streets at this hour—none of them martial artists—no one saw him at all.

In this era, there were no surveillance cameras, which freed him further from concern. In less than half an hour, he had quietly arrived near the home of the scoundrel Wang Gang.

The doors were locked; no one was home. So, the fellow hadn’t returned yet. Chen Fan vaulted the wall easily and hid himself carefully. Wang Gang was a bachelor, with no family at home. Pressing his ear to the door, Chen Fan listened for any sign of movement outside, hands ready with chili water and lime, and even a brick at his feet.

He knew Wang Gang and the others spent their days drinking and carousing in brothels or taverns, not returning home until late into the night. The hour was already late. Chen Fan waited more than half an hour, but Wang Gang did not appear.

Could the fellow have stayed the night at a brothel? Chen Fan was undaunted—he had anticipated that possibility. He was patient. If not tonight, then tomorrow; he did not believe Wang Gang would never return home.

As the saying went, the prepared outwit the unwary. Chen Fan, with his skills and willingness to stoop to ambush, made it impossible for Wang Gang to escape his fate. After another short wait, he heard drunken howling and wailing outside—the sounds of two drunkards making a ruckus. Listening closely, Chen Fan recognized one of the voices as Wang Gang.

It seems my luck is good, he thought. He waited until the two finished their rambling farewells. Wang Gang, reeking of alcohol, staggered up to open his door. No sooner had he done so than he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on the ground.

As he raised his head, a dark object came hurtling toward his face—a brick. With a thud, Wang Gang collapsed, unconscious, though still breathing.

The moon emerged, casting pale light over the courtyard. Confirming his target, Chen Fan let out a breath of relief, feeling as if he had punched into cotton. He had already prepared his special chili water and lime powder, but he now put them away. Over the past few days, he had meticulously planned for the timing of his attack, his escape route, and even contingencies in case of failure. He had, it seemed, overestimated this fool.

In the instant Wang Gang tumbled to the ground, the lime and chili water Chen Fan had been ready to throw hung awkwardly in his hands. “Just a petty thug after all…” he thought.

Locking the door behind him, Chen Fan grabbed Wang Gang’s ankle and dragged him inside. By candlelight, he swiftly tied Wang Gang up with rope and gagged him with a sock, then ransacked the place to stage a fake robbery. To his surprise, Wang Gang soon began snoring thunderously.

Both exasperated and amused, Chen Fan took a hatchet he found in the house and drove it into Wang Gang’s thigh. Blood gushed forth.

Wang Gang woke instantly, his face flushed with pain and confusion. Not understanding what had happened, he struggled fiercely, but Chen Fan had already bound and gagged him, and his muffled cries could not escape. Chen Fan pressed him down easily. Despite Wang Gang’s large size, he was no match in strength for someone who had trained as Chen Fan had.

Confident that even without the ropes Wang Gang could not escape, Chen Fan drew the hatchet from his chest and placed it firmly at Wang Gang’s throat.

Feeling the cold steel, Wang Gang swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his brow as the alcohol rapidly left his system. He dared not move.

“If I let you go, keep quiet if you wish to live,” Chen Fan said, the hatchet at his throat. “If you understand, don’t blink.”

Wang Gang stared wide-eyed and motionless until his eyes grew dry. Only then did Chen Fan sneer, remove his black hood, and say, “You must know why I’m here.”

“You—you’re Chen…” Wang Gang stared, eyes wide with shock, instantly recognizing him, though he could not recall his name in that moment. They had met only in passing, with no real connection.

He had always assumed Chen Fan was just an ordinary, timid youth with a knack for making money. Only now, faced with the boy’s ruthlessness, did he feel true fear. Sensing the blade at his chest, Wang Gang’s nose twitched and he began to sob, “I was wrong! I’ll never do it again!”

His chest was full of terror and regret. Had he known this boy was so fierce, he would never have dared to provoke Chen Fan’s family.

“Save your words,” Chen Fan said coldly. “Tell me—my elder brother, what really happened to him?”

“Boss Chen? You know about that? It—it wasn’t me! It was all Sixth Brother’s plan! I was just following orders…” Wang Gang stammered, panic in his eyes.

Chen Fan’s heart leapt. So his suspicions were right—his eldest brother really had been framed by them. He sneered, “Explain what happened to my brother!”

Wang Gang, coarse and burly as he was, trembled like a chicken. “It was Sixth Brother—Pi Liu—who killed your brother. I only helped get rid of the body, I swear!”

That sentence exploded in Chen Fan’s mind.

“You—you mean…?” His elder brother had indeed been sent to the next world.

“Your brother offended Sixth Brother in the gambling den,” Wang Gang went on. Apparently, Chen Fan’s brother had been lured by Pi Liu and his men into a crooked game, where he kept losing. Realizing something was wrong, he exposed them for cheating. Enraged, Pi Liu secretly murdered him and dumped his body in the nearby Qingling River.

Poor Chen eldest brother—an illiterate laborer with low emotional intelligence—had let his anger get the better of him. Had he been more tactful in his accusations, he might have survived.

Chen Fan had only known his “new” brother for half a year, and their bond was not especially deep. Yet, as the memories of this body surged within him, tears sprang unbidden to his eyes—remnants of the original owner’s feelings. At the same time, his own will boiled over with fury.

“You killed him as if life meant nothing?” Even worse, after taking his brother’s life, Pi Liu’s gang continued to bleed the Chen family dry. Twenty taels of silver—a sum that would take an ordinary family years to save!

At this moment, Chen Fan’s rage reached its peak. He asked in a low voice, “Pi Liu—he’s with the Black Tiger Gang. Is he a martial artist?”

Wang Gang nodded repeatedly. “I heard Sixth Brother say he’s trained for ten years. Three months ago, he finally developed inner breath and was given a martial art manual by the boss—he’s a real martial artist now! Ten ordinary men couldn’t take him! That’s why the gang made him a district leader…”

Pi Liu himself was close to forty, and had only started training in his twenties—quite late. Ten years to awaken inner breath—his talent must be very poor, and any martial technique he’d learned would be mediocre at best. Having only reached that level three months ago, even with a martial art manual, he couldn’t be much stronger than Chen Fan. The only thing Pi Liu had over him was experience.

“Pi Liu’s just a small district leader. His strength can’t be that high…” With this in mind, Chen Fan asked more questions, probing for details about the Black Tiger Gang and Pi Liu.

He then stuffed the sock back into Wang Gang’s mouth, gripped the hatchet, and, with a forceful swing, slashed it across Wang Gang’s neck.

Blood sprayed everywhere. Chen Fan’s movements were clean and swift; Wang Gang let out a muffled groan and died where he lay. Strangely, Chen Fan’s eyes were clear, and he felt not the slightest discomfort—physically or mentally. Faced with scum like Pi Liu and Wang Gang—bullies and murderers—he felt no need for mercy.

In truth, even if he had not learned of his brother’s murder, the moment Chen Fan removed his mask, Wang Gang’s fate was sealed.