Chapter 71: Shameless Lies, Heart-Wrenching Truth
"A Qing?!"
The villagers had all assumed Wang Da An was about to be brutally beaten by the Black Mole Man.
But then, out of nowhere, someone stepped in—blocking the strike.
Even more shocking? It was Lu Qing.
"You little brat?!" The Black Mole Man stared in disbelief, then let out a cruel grin. "Perfect. I was wondering where to find you. And now you’ve come crawling right to me!"
"Run back, A Qing! These people are dangerous!" Zhang Da Ye cried out in panic.
"Too late now," the Black Mole Man sneered. "You’re already trapped."
He twisted his arm, trying to wrench free and seize Lu Qing. But when he swung hard, he realized with horror that Lu Qing’s grip on his wrist was like a steel vice—unyielding, tightening with every second.
The pain flared. His wrist burned.
Lu Qing smiled calmly, his fingers squeezing harder.
"Let go of my arm—now!"
The pain was unbearable. The Black Mole Man’s face twisted. He roared, "You hear me? Let go!"
At the same instant, he released Wang Da An’s hoe and swung his left fist straight at Lu Qing’s head.
"Let go, you little—!"
But before he could land the blow, a sharp crack echoed through the air.
His right wrist snapped.
Agony exploded through his arm.
Before he could scream, a crushing force tore through his chest. A series of bone-cracking sounds followed. His throat flooded with blood, which burst from his mouth in a violent spray.
His body launched into the air, soaring high—then collapsed mid-flight, his eyes rolling back.
He hit the ground with a heavy thud, skidding backward nearly eight meters, carving a long, deep trench in the dirt. He lay motionless.
Silence.
Absolute, stunned silence.
Especially among the villagers of Jiu Li Village—eyes wide, mouths agape, utterly unable to believe what they’d just witnessed.
"What?!"
The man with the gloomy face, Han Wu, stared in horror at the fallen Black Mole Man. His pupils contracted.
Lao Qi was no slouch—his skills were close to Han Wu’s own.
And yet, Lu Qing had shattered him in one kick.
How… how was this possible?!
After breaking the Black Mole Man’s wrist and leaving him crippled, Lu Qing turned his gaze to the remaining figures.
He had been observing from the sidelines for a while.
Having listened to Zhang Da Ye’s conversation, he now understood—these people were the true culprits behind Xiao Yan’s parents’ deaths.
To confirm, he’d used his Abilities to probe their identities.
What he discovered chilled him.
All of them were members of the Black Wolf Gang.
And the one standing before him—Han Wu—was their leader.
> [Han Wu: Outer member of the Black Wolf Gang. Temperament: vicious and cunning. Holds grudges, ruthless in execution.]
> [Skilled in martial arts. Once trained by a true warrior. Only one step short of Qi Xue Jing.]
Recalling the data, Lu Qing’s eyes grew colder as he locked onto Han Wu.
If even his Abilities labeled this man as ruthless… then Han Wu must have committed countless atrocities.
The cold gaze snapped Han Wu out of his daze.
He stared at Lu Qing—then, in shock, blurted, "You’re… a martial cultivator?!"
"Oh? You actually have some sense," Lu Qing said, surprised. "Now, answer me—just who are you?"
The admission stunned Han Wu.
He remembered clearly—just over a month ago, he’d seen Lu Qing.
A sickly, frail boy, hollow-eyed, barely alive.
A child he could’ve crushed with a single finger.
And now?
This same boy stood before him—now a martial cultivator?
How?
Han Wu knew better than anyone how difficult it was to become a martial cultivator.
He’d trained for over a decade. With his elder brother’s guidance.
And still, he hadn’t broken through to Qi Xue Jing.
But this boy—Lu Ming’s son—had been weak as a leaf just a month ago.
Now he was a warrior.
It defied logic.
Lu Qing saw the shock on Han Wu’s face—but he didn’t care.
His voice hardened. "You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?"
The coldness in Lu Qing’s tone sent a shiver down Han Wu’s spine.
No matter how Lu Qing had become a martial cultivator, that didn’t matter now.
What mattered was survival.
If he didn’t handle this right, they’d all die here today.
His mind raced.
A forced smile crept onto his face.
"Lu Xiao Langjun… this is all a terrible misunderstanding…"
But before he could continue, Zhang Da Ye shouted from behind:
"A Qing! These are the ones who killed your parents!"
"Exactly! A Qing, your parents were driven to suicide by them!"
"A Qing, don’t let them go!"
"Look! They tried to take Xiao Yan just now!"
The villagers, emboldened by Lu Qing’s strength, shouted in unison.
Cold sweat broke out across Han Wu’s forehead.
"No! That’s not true! Lu Xiao Langjun, your parents drowned themselves! It had nothing to do with us!"
"Rubbish!" Zhang Da Ye roared. "If it weren’t for your trap, they’d never have fallen into debt! They were driven to death by you!"
Han Wu’s fury boiled over.
He swore—if he survived this, he’d personally torture the old man, then whip his corpse three days straight to ease his rage.
"Lu Xiao Langjun," Han Wu pressed on, voice trembling with false sincerity, "your father wanted to start a business. He borrowed money from us. The venture failed. He couldn’t repay. Frightened, he and your mother drowned themselves. We never forced them. Not once."
"Check the loan agreement—it’s right here. Your father signed it himself. With his own name and fingerprint."
He pulled out a paper, swiftly showing it to Lu Qing.
"Disgusting!" Zhang Da Ye snarled. "You claimed you’d destroyed that contract! Now you’re pulling it out like it’s nothing? How shameless!"
The other villagers fumed, bewildered.
They’d seen Han Wu burn the original document with their own eyes.
So how could there be another one now?
Lu Qing studied the paper for a few seconds.
He nodded. "Yes… it does bear my father’s name."
"So what?" Han Wu pressed. "It proves your father owed us money. And his death? It had nothing to do with us. We didn’t force him. In fact, we’re still out the principal—we haven’t even recovered our capital!"
"Would we risk losing everything just to push a man to suicide? That’s not business. That’s suicide."
Lu Qing tilted his head, considering.
"…That does make a certain kind of sense."
"A Qing…" The villagers groaned, desperate.
But Han Wu had learned.
He saw the flicker of doubt in Lu Qing’s eyes—and seized the moment.
"No time to waste," he said quickly. "Since Lu Ming is dead, his debt is null. This contract? It’s our gift to you. A return of what was rightfully yours."
He pulled out several silver notes and placed them beside the paper.
"And we’ve always mourned your parents’ passing. Here—three hundred taels. A small token of our regret. Please, accept it, Lu Xiao Langjun."
His words were smooth, sincere, almost heartfelt.
As if he spoke only truth.
As if he carried no guilt.
Lu Qing stared at the silver notes and the contract.
Then at Han Wu’s earnest expression.
He said nothing for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Indeed… a generous gift."
Han Wu’s heart leapt. He believes me!
"Then, Lu Xiao Langjun—"
But before he could finish—
A hand appeared silently at his chest.
Then—
A force so immense it shattered his ribs.
The power exploded from his heart, tearing it apart.
Han Wu convulsed. His limbs went limp.
He fell to his knees.
And as darkness swallowed him, he heard Lu Qing’s voice—calm, quiet, final—
"Too bad… I’d have believed you, if I hadn’t known your true nature."
(End of Chapter)
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