From a chaotic world of folk customs to becoming a god through extreme methods.

Chapter 11 The Night of Murder

"what!"

Caught off guard, Zheng Laosan let out a scream, never expecting Lin Yuan to resort to underhanded tactics.

At this moment, his eyes were burning with pain from the lime, and he could only use his blurred vision to haphazardly chop forward with his right palm.

The palm strike whistled past, snapping a patch of reeds.

But Lin Yuan had already dodged to the side.

Immediately afterwards, with a startled cry, the longsword was drawn.

The sword reflected the moonlight, like a pool of autumn water, its cold gleam sharp and fierce!

Zheng Laosan was, after all, a trained fighter who had spent years honing his skills at the docks. Although his skill level wasn't high, he had a wealth of practical experience.

Although his eyes were blinded by lime, he could still pinpoint the location by sound, and his strength continued to surge as he swung his palm towards Lin Yuan's direction.

The palm strike was fierce, bringing with it gusts of bloody wind.

If that palm strike landed squarely, it would either kill the person or break several ribs.

But Lin Yuan's sword was faster than his; his movements were swift and sharp, and he flicked his wrist.

Twelve Styles of Gentle Ripples, Rapier!

The sword tip, like a comet striking the moon, shot forth with a chilling glint.

Zheng Laosan's expression changed slightly, and he was startled.

That sword was so fast!

He didn't have time to think it through, so he could only forcefully twist his body, turn to the right to retract his block, and then strike out with his left palm.

Cloud-dispelling palm strike, double-layered waves.

One palm strike after another, the force stacked up, in an unstoppable chain—this was his killing move!

Lin Yuan's expression hardened slightly.

This palm strike came with overwhelming force. If he continued to stab, he could certainly injure the opponent, but he would also have to take the blow himself.

He stumbled, his body tilting to one side like a reed in the wind.

While taking emergency evasive action, the sword's stance changed accordingly.

Raise your sword!

The sword blade rolled upwards from bottom to top, like a river flowing backwards, grazing the edge of Zheng Laosan's left palm.

Blood splattered!

Zheng Laosan's left wrist was slashed open, and blood splattered everywhere.

He paused in his thrust, groaned in pain, but a storm raged within him.

That swordsmanship, that reaction speed.

First stage of body tempering?

How could that be? In the entire Chahe Town, who doesn't know what kind of person Young Master Lin is?

A good-for-nothing whose body has been ruined by alcohol and women, he was recently dragged into the water by a water ghost.

Even if I heard he recently went to a martial arts gym, it was just for show.

How could someone possess such mastery of swordsmanship?

But the scene before us doesn't lie.

Lin Yuan's swordsmanship was fast, accurate, and ruthless, clearly showing that he had put in a lot of hard work.

Zheng Daoshan had no choice but to quickly retreat two steps to distance himself from Lin Yuan, his right palm protecting his body while his left palm was covered in blood.

His eyes were burned red by the lime, and he could only squint through a slit to vaguely see Lin Yuan standing with his sword, his figure steady.

"You, you're not a piece of trash?"

Zheng Laosan's tone was incredulous, indicating that he was already considering backing out.

Lin Yuan did not answer, his mind still preoccupied with the sword strike he had just delivered.

Real combat is indeed completely different from sword practice.

The wooden stake won't move, won't retaliate, and certainly won't use any deadly moves to take your life, but a real person will.

When Zheng Laosan struck with his palm, Lin Yuan was caught off guard and a sense of fear welled up inside him.

But this isn't the kind of fear that makes your hands and feet go weak.

It is a fear that is an adrenaline surge, causing the body to tremble, reactions to be heightened, and a state of extreme excitement.

He raised his eyes and looked at Zheng Laosan, a hint of ferocity appearing in his eyes for the first time.

But Zheng Laosan hadn't collapsed yet; he gritted his teeth and asked the question.

"Who exactly are you?"

A good-for-nothing playboy could never possess such swordsmanship.

Unless, Lin Yuan is not a waste at all.

Could it be that he had been hiding his true abilities all along?

Lin Yuan did not answer, but simply drew his sword again, his understanding of swordsmanship becoming increasingly profound.

But Zheng Laosan turned and ran away.

He is currently blind, which puts him at a disadvantage, and the strength of his opponent is unknown.

In any case, survival is the most important thing, so running away is the best option.

But how could his speed possibly match Lin Yuan's?

The wind howled past, and Lin Yuan's figure swept through the reeds. Moonlight and frost fell, and in the blink of an eye, he was in front of Zheng Laosan.

At the same time, the "Twelve Styles of Gentle Ripples" and "Nine Styles of Ripples" are used together with sword techniques and fully unleashed.

Point, flick, hang, cloud, chop, stab, intercept, strangle, collapse, pick, lift, slash...

The sword light flowed like water, sometimes rippling gently, sometimes spreading out in concentric circles.

Zheng Laosan felt a chill run down his spine until he could no longer escape and had no choice but to turn around and face his enemy head-on.

The palm strike reappeared, its force surging forth like parting clouds, constantly whistling past.

But Lin Yuan's sword, like moonlight flowing water, is all-pervasive.

The reeds were constantly being broken, and fragments flew everywhere.

With one sword strike, Lin Yuan pierced Zheng Laosan's right arm; with another, he sliced across his left rib; and with yet another, he severed the tendon in his right foot.

Zheng Laosan looked terrified, staggered to his knees, and could only slap out his left palm haphazardly, but it was no longer in any order.

My eyes were burned by lime so badly that I could barely open them; I could only see a blurry shadow moving under the moonlight.

That shadow was moving too fast.

It was so fast that his palm technique couldn't keep up.

"Impossible, impossible..."

He muttered to himself, his voice trembling.

How could a spoiled brat who has only practiced swordsmanship for a month possess such swordsmanship?

How could Lin Yuan, such a good-for-nothing, be so strong?

But Lin Yuan didn't give him any more time to think.

Ripples spread across the sword light, one circle within another, the sword's momentum continuous and layered.

In the blink of an eye, the sword bypassed Zheng Laosan's last defense, pierced his left shoulder, and finally struck his chest with a horizontal slash.

Zheng Laosan was sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground, a mouthful of blood spilling from his mouth.

He tried to get up, but he could no longer muster any strength in his limbs.

His tendons in his hands and feet had all been severed, and he was now covered in blood and had no strength left to resist.

Lin Yuan stepped forward, the tip of his sword pressed against his throat.

Zheng Laosan froze, too afraid to move.

Moonlight filtered through the clouds, illuminating Lin Yuan's face.

His face was as calm as a still river, but a fierce glint was hidden in his eyes. He asked indifferently.

"Who gave you the right to injure my older brother?"

Zheng Laosan gritted his teeth, unwilling to answer.

But Lin Yuan pushed the sword tip forward a little further, and blood seeped out.

"If you don't talk, I'll kill you."

Zheng Laosan immediately loosened his jaw and blurted it out.

"The He family, it's the He family patriarch, He Chongwen!"

He is now at the mercy of others, like a fish on a chopping board. Even if he reveals He Chongwen's identity, he will still be purged afterward.

But survival is the most important thing right now, and those who know when to yield are the wise ones.

"Young Master Lin, please spare me. I have elderly parents and young children to support, and I have no other choice."

"Whatever you want to ask, I will answer it to the best of my ability!"

They were quite cooperative.

Lin Yuan loosened his sword and continued to ask.

"How much silver did he give you?"

"Fifty taels."

Lin Yuan's eyes flickered slightly. Fifty taels of silver had bought half of his elder brother's life.

"Anything else? Tell me everything you know."

"This..." Zheng Laosan's eyes darted away.

Lin Yuan slid his sword down again, cutting a gash in Zheng Laosan's chest, and blood spurted out.

Zheng Laosan screamed in agony, his whole body convulsing.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"He Chongwen also said that if the Lin family doesn't know what's good for them, he'll find an opportunity to give them a good talking-to before Lin Yuanshan returns."

"If you still don't wake up, you should consider killing Young Master Lin."

"We will further support you, Young Master Lin, and appoint you as the head of the household, using the Lin family's assets to preside over the water ceremony."

Lin Yuan's sword stopped.

His worries were indeed justified.

This time, the eldest brother was injured, which was just a warning. Next time, it will be murder.

The eldest patriarch of the He family, He Chongwen, is the real mastermind behind everything.

Lin Yuan kept this calamity in mind.

Then he looked at Zheng Laosan and asked again.

"What else do you know?"

Zheng Laosan quickly shook his head.

"It's gone, really gone."

"I really don't know anything more. I'm just a henchman, and Master He won't tell me anything more..."

Lin Yuan struck again with his sword, severing all five fingers of Zheng Laosan's right hand.

The other person immediately screamed in pain, struggling and rolling around.