Half-Face Ghost was about to leave when someone came to report, “Deputy Helmsman, the Master says… he is hungry and weak and needs some food before he can perform the stitching ceremony.”
The Master, with his extraordinary talent and mastery of the coveted secret sewing technique, inevitably acted arrogantly.
Wang Buzui, enraged, kicked over a chair nearby, his eyes cold as ice. “That old fool.”
If he didn’t need the Master, he would have shown him what it means to have no choice but to bow under the eaves.
Seeing Wang Buzui’s anger, the Half-Face Ghosts were terrified. One confidant advised, “Helmsman, patience brings peace. Once the matter is settled, we can deal with him. The Master is bound to put on airs, and if we don’t satisfy him, he might just leave, ruining our long-laid plans.”
Wang Buzui thought this made sense and suppressed his anger. “Tell the kitchen to send him some food, but no alcohol. Drunkenness could cause mistakes. Inform him that I give him only half an hour. If he continues to be difficult, I won’t hesitate to send him to meet the King of Hell.”
After some thought, he added, “Bring him over to start the stitching first. Once the food is ready, send it to the Dark Hall.”
If he could still eat then, he would allow him time for a meal.
“Yes.”
—
In the kitchen, upon hearing the orders, there were inevitable complaints. One cook grumbled while chopping vegetables, “What kind of Master? Haven’t seen any real skills, just a big show-off. He’s been treating us like servants these days.”
Three meals a day, each needing to be exquisite and delicious, never repeating, and if dissatisfied, he would smash dishes. The higher-ups only took it out on the kitchen staff.
Even the main Helmsman wasn’t this hard to serve.
“Enough. Since it’s the Deputy Helmsman’s order, we should comply. Don’t stir up trouble and risk ruining the Deputy Helmsman’s plans, or we’ll be in trouble.”
Even without direct dealings with Wang Buzui, what they had seen and heard was enough to know he wasn’t someone to mess with. Known for holding grudges, he likely harbored much anger these days. Once the matter was resolved, this so-called Master would be finished.
The manager’s warning silenced the complaints, and everyone followed orders.
Satisfied, the manager said, “Hurry up, once it’s ready, take it to the Dark Hall.”
Shen Du, squatting by the stove, listened intently and guessed there was something peculiar about the Dark Hall. He volunteered, “Everyone’s worked hard. Let me deliver the meal.”
In the kitchen, he realized his disguise was just a menial worker, so running errands was expected.
No one objected, instead, they harshly said, “Nonsense, who else would deliver it? Stoke the fire, it’s time to start cooking.”
This kid had learned to slack off, sneaking away on the way back earlier.
Shen Du kept his head down, suppressing his temper, “Yes, yes.”
He then threw a few more logs into the stove, poking them with a stick until the fire roared.
In the guest room, the Master was half-lying on the couch, waiting for food and drink. Hearing the Half-Face Ghost’s words, he looked displeased.
“Is this how your Deputy Helmsman asks for help? If not for the Main Helmsman’s sake, I wouldn’t have come.”
“Master, a wise man submits to circumstances. Guangchun Hall is under the Deputy Helmsman’s control now. If you don’t cooperate, no one can guarantee what he might do.”
The implication was clear: don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit.
The Master, furious, huffed, “This is blatant intimidation!”
He thought he could rely on the Main Helmsman’s influence to act with impunity, but these people dared to openly threaten him.
The Half-Face Ghost ignored him, gesturing, “Master, please! Don’t keep our Deputy Helmsman waiting.”
The Master, seething with anger, had no choice but to comply, “Lead the way.”
He was invited, yet Wang Buzui didn’t even greet him, expecting him to work on an empty stomach. How could such a thing be?
When the Main Helmsman returned, he would certainly report this, and then it would be a matter of whose fists were stronger.
After all, he and the Main Helmsman were in the same boat. If something happened to him, his secrets wouldn’t be safe.
The Master was angry, and so was Wang Buzui. He even found the three people on the table annoying.
Since the formation required fresh blood, he might as well start with them.
He picked up a dagger from a stone table and approached Du Xiaowan and the others.
The dagger, made of rare black iron, was extremely sharp, gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
Du Xiaowan, a lady of a noble family, fainted from fear.
Xiuxiu panicked, “Brother Wang, don’t you remember the past? You said you’d treat me like a sister, that your sister was your precious one, and you’d always be good to her. Have you forgotten?”
“Sister? My sister is indeed my treasure. Soon, I’ll see her again. Don’t worry, Xiuxiu, I always keep my word. For my lost and found sister, I’ll treat her even better.”
She would never want for anything, and he wouldn’t let anyone harm her.
Now, he had the power to ensure that.
Xiuxiu’s eyes dimmed further, “So, all the kindness you showed me was because of this face, making you love the house and its crow?”
More than once, when they drank and sang together, he was mesmerized by her face.
She once thought it was her beauty, but later realized she was deceiving herself.
A person deep in obsession wouldn’t be swayed by past affections to abandon their long-held goals. Everything she did was in vain, like ashes scattered by the wind.
“Does it matter if it was or wasn’t?” Wang Buzui glanced at Xiuxiu, then looked away. “For old times’ sake, I won’t let you suffer long.”
“Old times’ sake?” Xiuxiu murmured, her expression a mix of laughter and tears, “What old times? Did you ever care for me?”
Her words were calm, but the darkness in Xiuxiu’s eyes made Wang Buzui turn away, unable to bear it.
“So, from the start, you planned to use Xiuxiu as a vessel to revive your sister?” Zhu Yan had long wanted to ask, but never found the right moment.
“None of your business.”
Zhu Yan wasn’t discouraged, sneering as he looked at the fire moths around, “Is the Fire Moth Gang’s totem or token? Oh, right, it’s a sacred object, isn’t it? Laughable, a moth easily burned by fire, yet you revere it as a deity. Would the gods still bless you knowing you insult them so?”