Chapter 15

He gripped his knife with both hands and shouted angrily, looking as if he wanted to charge forward, but his feet moved toward the back of the courtyard. After taking a few steps back, he raised his knife and ran toward the backyard, shouting loudly:

“Someone, everyone’s dead…”

Clang—

As soon as the words left his mouth, a bone-chilling wind swept from behind.

George Bennett was indeed quite skilled; with a backhanded swing, he accurately blocked the incoming blade. But his body couldn’t withstand the force, and he was struck down to the ground, the knife in his hand knocked away.

Clang, clang—

George Bennett didn’t have time to care about the broadsword. He scrambled up, trying to run to the back room, but this time he had no chance. Just as he got up, the back of his head was pressed down, a boot pinning him to the wet bluestone tiles, and a cold flash of steel fell before his eyes.

Slash—

“Wait, young hero! Spare me, spare me…”

In the elegant courtyard, shrouded in rain, came a heart-wrenching scream.

Henry Blake stood still in the rain, his foot pressing down on George Bennett’s left cheek, the blade stabbed into the ground before his eyes. Looking down at him, he finally showed a hint of expression:

“You sent a message to the Pei family, asking them to come talk? About what? Speak.”

George Bennett’s face twisted, but there was not a trace of anger—he just stared fixedly at the blade before him:

“A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. I was blinded by greed, didn’t know you were with the Pei family. This is the capital—if someone dies, it’s hard to explain. Please, young hero, don’t be rash…”

“I heard you’re a disciple of the ‘Three Perfections Immortal Elder.’ Your skills don’t quite match the reputation.”

?

George Bennett hadn’t expected this kid to know who his master was, but he didn’t dare act tough now, and hurriedly explained:

“Just a registered disciple. My family has some ties with my master, so I learned a few years of skills at his place, but didn’t get the true teachings. Sorry to disappoint the hero…”

“For your master’s reputation, I’ll spare your life.”

“Thank you, young hero, for your great mercy… ah—”

Before George Bennett could finish, he let out a miserable scream.

The blade was pulled out and plunged down again, straight into his right arm, nailing it to the bluestone.

George Bennett’s face contorted in agony. He looked at Henry Blake, eyes full of terror, unable to utter a word.

“This strike is so you know I’m not afraid to act. Maybe I can’t kill your master, but killing you is no trouble at all. Farewell.”

Slash—

Henry Blake pulled out his sword, wiped the bloodied blade on George Bennett’s clothes, sheathed it, and turned to walk toward the main hall.

George Bennett gritted his teeth, clutching his bleeding right arm as he struggled to his feet, forcing himself not to cry out in pain, watching Henry Blake leave.

Creak—

The main hall doors opened.

In the courtyard outside, dozens of ruffians armed with iron weapons had gathered; Charles Bennett, William Brooks, and the other bodyguards stood at the door, gripping their blades, ready for anything.

A few wealthy merchants, faces full of suspicion and fear, stood by the gate.

Henry Blake closed the door behind him, tossed the sword to Charles Bennett, and took the umbrella, opening it over his head:

“It’s settled. Let’s go.”

“So efficient…”

William Brooks muttered quietly, but didn’t ask what had happened. After all, everyone outside had heard the commotion and screams from inside; even a fool could guess how the ‘talks’ went.

The gang of thugs in the courtyard, seeing their ‘boss’ hadn’t shown his face, didn’t dare block the way, and all stepped aside in the rain.

The wealthy merchants weren’t sure if this Pei family youth had killed George Bennett outright, and didn’t dare say a word.

Rustle, rustle, rustle…

The vast manor was silent as a grave, only a single black umbrella drifting unhurriedly through the alleys between white walls and blue tiles.

Not until the carriage left through the main gate did the courtyard come alive again:

“Boss? Boss, are you alright? That madman, how dare he… Hurry, report to the authorities…”

“Get lost! Useless bunch… report to the authorities, my ass…”

……

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Thank you all for your tips, monthly votes, and recommendations. New brothers and sisters, don’t forget to bookmark~

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Recommending a new book: “My Senior Sister Isn’t Human!”

Synopsis: A romance with non-human senior sisters…

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By the way, I’ve made several covers, but none fit. The current one isn’t quite right either. The artist is working on a new one, but it’ll be a few days before it’s ready…

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Chapter 8: Listening to Songs at the Brothel, Returning at Dusk

Gurgle, gurgle—

The carriage wheels rolled over the bluestone, stopping outside the Pei residence.

Grace Collins held a fluffy bird, standing under the lantern like a virtuous wife awaiting her husband’s return, gazing into the distance.

Seeing Henry Blake step down from the carriage, Grace Collins smiled:

“Jingtang, how did the talk go? George Bennett didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

“San-niang, why are you waiting at the door?”

Henry Blake stepped up the stairs and reached out to stroke the bird, which enjoyed life even more than he did:

“No trouble. Took a lot of talking, but I finally explained things to Mr. Bennett…”

“Ahem, ahem—”

William Brooks and two unfamiliar bodyguards unloading the carriage all stumbled at his words, turning to look at Henry Blake, as if to say:

You said all of five sentences in total, and you call that a lot of talking?

George Bennett didn’t give you trouble, but do you really not know why?

Old retainer Charles Bennett and Liuzi and the others, on the other hand, reacted calmly.

After all, in their eyes, the young master really did talk a lot today.

If this were some lawless border town and they ran into thugs like these, the young master would think even one word was too much—he’d just chop them down and leave.