Chapter 11: The Eleventh Pig
The burly men immediately stepped forward, ready to twist Lizhenzhen’s wrists.
The Weng family alone couldn’t hire these skilled fighters.
Lizhenzhen stared at their mountain-like figures.
Could it be the Crane Guard causing trouble again?
Why were they so idle?
Lizhenzhen felt a bit troubled.
She couldn’t avoid fighting, but she also couldn’t appear too capable in combat.
If she killed several of these muscular men outright, the fisherwoman’s family would immediately recognize that she wasn’t the real fisherwoman.
Just as the burly men reached out to grab her, Lizhenzhen swiftly dodged.
No one saw how she struck, and by the time they reacted, the butcher’s cleaver was already pressed against the neck of the Weng family’s eldest brother.
Seeing his lifeline threatened, Weng’s mother immediately screamed like a slaughtered pig: “Weng Zhenzhen, how dare you! That’s your brother!”
“How could I not dare? My brother who sold me for money—better if he’s dead.”
Lizhenzhen held firm: “I said I won’t marry, so I won’t. If you force me, then we all die together. I won’t lose out.”
“Wretch, wretch...” Weng’s mother repeated these words over and over.
She was so angry her head spun, but terror filled her as she stared at the gleaming silver blade, as if seeing her daughter for the first time.
How dare she be so defiant? How dare she threaten me!
Most daughters their age were under their parents’ control—how could she not be?
Weng’s mother was both humiliated and fearful, her hands trembling with rage, yet she dared not act rashly.
The fisherwoman’s younger sister watched anxiously as her sister was about to succeed in resisting.
How selfish her sister was—not thinking that if she didn’t marry Ge Liu, their mother would surely turn her attention to her.
Even though she was young now and couldn’t marry Ge Liu, their mother could sell her as a child bride.
She was proud and would never accept being a child bride!
She immediately grabbed her mother’s hand, tears streaming down: “Mother, sister was just momentarily confused, please don’t be angry. Sister is always kind-hearted—how could she really fight with brother? She only wanted to scare us, she wouldn’t really do it.”
“Don’t blame sister, blame me instead. I’m too young to have children, otherwise I would marry in her place.”
Though young, her mature reasoning surely earned the villagers’ admiration.
Weng’s mother suddenly sobered.
Right, how could she forget?
This wretch might be stubborn, but she never stayed defiant with family for long. Just a little cold treatment, and then putting on a sad face, she would come back to be consoled.
If her own brother were truly gone, who would she rely on? The in-laws alone could torment her to death.
She must be pretending, trying to force me.
But I won’t let her get her way.
Having realized this, Weng’s mother immediately regained her harshness and ordered the men: “This worthless girl won’t dare to strike. Go tie her up!”
Before she finished, a bloodcurdling scream rang out.
—
With a single strike, Lizhenzhen severed one of the Weng eldest brother’s hands.
The villagers watching were horrified, scattering in all directions.
The fisherwoman’s younger sister screamed and stumbled back, falling to the ground.
Weng’s mother trembled uncontrollably, unable to believe her own eyes, her mind a blank.
She had thought Lizhenzhen was just a green girl bluffing.
What daughter would truly be so cruel to her family? Even if Ge Liu forced himself upon her at night, she would still obediently support her natal family.
Now her son had lost a hand—how could he become a great immortal?
How could Weng Zhenzhen dare to be so serious!
Lizhenzhen kicked the Weng eldest brother aside.
She had never cared about the Weng family, her gaze fixed on a dark shadow swiftly leaving the crowd: “If you come looking for me again, it won’t just be a hand you lose.”
“Get lost.”
—
The news that the Weng daughter had been driven mad by her family and had cut off her brother’s hand spread rapidly through the town.
It was said the family fled down the mountain in panic, losing their shoes and not even daring to retrieve them.
Rumors also said the eldest brother’s wound was festering; not only was cultivation out of the question, he would never be able to do heavy labor again.
The townsfolk thought Weng’s daughter was utterly unreasonable.
It was just a forced marriage; whose parents didn’t arrange such matches? Even if the groom was unworthy, it was her fate. How could she injure her own brother so grievously?
Daughters like her must have been beaten too little—sending them to the market to sell vegetables would scare them straight.
But the Weng family’s future was bleak.
For years, people had respected the Weng family simply because a cultivator once said their descendants would become immortals, blessed with great fortune.
Immortality!
This was something no one dared dream of for generations.
The Weng family had only one son, so this honor naturally fell to him.
Now that son was crippled; whether he could cultivate was uncertain, but he certainly couldn’t do hard work.
Besides, the debts and opium habit of the Weng father had to be repaid.
—
When Shen Que heard this, he was in the courtyard writing the regulations for the sacrificial ceremony.
The ceremony was an old tradition on Wuhuan Island.
Every year on the twelfth day of the twelfth month, the noble clans would gather on the western shore of the island to offer human sacrifices to Cen Xueling, the ghostly ruler who drowned here millennia ago, praying for favorable weather.
This year’s twelfth month was fast approaching.
As the island lord, Shen Que must recite the ceremonial text.
Dipping his brush in ink, he said quietly, “Has she truly severed ties with her family?”
The ghost-faced attendant bowed his head: “Reporting to my lord, I sent men to inspect the Weng family. The eldest brother’s right hand is indeed severed. There’s no deception.”
Shen Que chuckled lightly: “She’s quite ruthless.”
—
Ghost-faced attendant: “What are my next orders?”
“Since she can’t be restrained, we needn’t concern ourselves with the Weng family anymore.” Shen Que paused. “Did she encounter Ge Liu that day as well?”
“Yes.” The attendant quickly guessed his lord’s thoughts. “When Ge Liu saw Miss Weng, his eyes lit up. If he hadn’t been stopped, he would have grabbed her hand on the spot.”
“But Miss Weng didn’t even glance at Ge Liu.”
Shen Que’s expression remained unchanged. “She didn’t fancy Ge Liu?”
“Of course not. Who would?”
The attendant felt the flattery he was about to speak was absurd but had no choice: “Miss Weng’s tastes are exquisite; naturally, she wouldn’t fancy Ge Liu.”
“If that’s the case, there’s no need to keep Ge Liu around.”
Shen Que became island lord at seven or eight years old and had written the ceremony rules eight or nine times.
He finished writing quickly, then picked up a memorial scroll to review.
His expression was calm, but the ghost-faced attendant broke into a cold sweat.
“Another push for my marriage,” Shen Que said casually, flipping through a few pages. “These people treat me like a breeding boar.”
The attendant dared not respond: “I will have someone investigate this gentleman’s background. Tomorrow, his household will be raided and he will be offered as a sacrifice.”
“Enough.” Shen Que tossed the scroll on the table, smiling lightly. “Since they want me to marry so badly, why not let them have their way?”
“Order the preparations: this year’s ceremony, the island lord of Wuhuan Island will formally propose marriage to the ghost ruler, beseeching him to manifest and select a wife for me.”
“...Yes.”
No need for the ghost ruler to manifest, really.
Just write Miss Weng’s name directly.
The ghost-faced attendant thought his role was done and was about to withdraw.
Suddenly, he hesitated. “My lord, the one who slew the Crane Guard in the street—our thirty-two men sent to intercept him... none returned.”
Shen Que: “One person killed thirty-two men?”
The attendant: “Still investigating, but since no one survived, specific details are unknown.”
Especially since the first to report this was a Crane Guard who also died in the attack.
At first, only five Crane Guards died. In their line of work, higher casualties were common, so he didn’t inquire further.
Now, however, no one could describe this person’s appearance or height.
But subconsciously, he believed the attacker was a man.
After all, none of the thirty-seven dead showed any traces of sorcery, indicating the killer was not a cultivator.
No ordinary woman, delicate as they are, could kill so many men alone.
“A talented individual, but a pity—if they were a cultivator, we might have been able to use them.”
Shen Que pondered briefly, then smiled: “My sister has been searching for a furnace recently. Since a mortal martial artist can’t handle him, find some cultivators to capture this person and send him to my sister.”
“...Yes.”