Demon Sword Sect’s Undercover
Chapter 195 - 195 194 Tour of Three Rivers Prefecture

195: Chapter 194: Tour of Three Rivers Prefecture 195: Chapter 194: Tour of Three Rivers Prefecture PS: Please subscribe, asking for the monthly ticket.

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Well, the numbers are quite ordinary, a bit embarrassing…

……

The grain boat meandered sluggishly along the Xiaodi River; no one would have expected an assassin to leave in such a snail-like manner.

One would either dash away at full speed or lie low in Linjing City without movement, but no one would choose this manner of crawling.

So Hou Niao crawled, and that’s why he was safe; three days past, having completely reverted to his original appearance, he would complete the next task given to him by Yu Zhengxing using his true identity.

To return a favor, one should not go with one’s head covered.

The friend mentioned by Yu Zhengxing hailed from Three Rivers Prefecture, which was very close to Fufeng City; Yu Zhengxing’s assignment was killing two birds with one stone, and it also gave him a reason to take a break and visit home.

It was somewhat coincidental, but Anhe Country in the Jinxiu Continent was a small nation, and it only had five states within it.

So, ending up in Guangchuan State wasn’t strange at all.

Fed up with the slow journey after three days, he abandoned the boat to shore and got himself a poor horse, which increased his speed a lot; compared to boating, he still preferred galloping on horseback, for it gave him the feeling of heart’s desire under his own control.

The scenery along the way became more and more familiar.

Even with a mind as strong as his, he was getting a bit uncontrollably excited.

He could not imagine what it would feel like for someone to return home after ten or several decades?

Perhaps, it would actually be indifferent by then?

Several days later, a majestic city came into his view.

Unlike the customs of Shan Country, every city in Anhe had city walls, which were incredibly spectacular.

Around him were the most familiar local accents, the most familiar attire, the most familiar food culture, the most familiar streets, and architecture.

He didn’t need to assimilate, for he was already part of this environment.

The Wen residence was the most prominent mansion in Three Rivers Prefecture; the Wen family was also a major clan in the area.

In this world, any major clan was almost invariably related to cultivation; without a cultivator to back the family, you couldn’t become a major clan.

The biggest backing of the Wen family was their uncle Wen Jinglai, born from the Anhe Daoist Sect and having reached Tongxuan level, was also a very influential Upper Cultivator.

However, this big tree had thunderously fallen a few months earlier, leaving the Wen family in a state of panicked insecurity.

The death of Wen Jinglai belonged to internal strife within the Daoist Sect; it was a conflict between the Anhe Daoist Sect and the Daoist Sect from the south’s Wu Country.

While the Anhe Daoist Sect had to be somewhat cautious in the presence of the Quanzhen Sect, the Wu Sect from Wu Country was a giant that controlled several minor sects from small countries.

This time, they were aiming to take the Anhe Daoist Sect under their control.

Internal struggles within any sect were always cruel.

They might not be as high-profile as external conflicts, but the internal purging, forming factions, and party conflicts spared no mercy.

It sounded noble; unite in chaos, combine forces, support each other, but the reality often was that small sects disappeared in the process, which was the norm.

Wen Jinglai was one from within the Anhe Daoist Sect who strongly advocated for independence.

Naturally, there was also a faction that supported merging.

The two sides entangled endlessly, shifting from an initial majority that supported independence to now being isolated and weak.

This was also the reason the Anhe Daoist Sect had been trying to maintain a good relationship with the Quanzhen Sect in recent years.

As a small sect from a small country, where did they have the strength to face both internal and external pressures, attacks from all sides?

Exactly what had happened was unclear to everyone, and Hou Niao wasn’t concerned about it either; the struggles between these powers were not something his small shoulders could bear at the moment.

His goal was pure and simple, to find Wen family members and deliver Yu Zhengxing’s message; that was all.

It didn’t take long to locate the Wen residence, which looked unremarkable from the outside.

The mansion was vast and the family dynamics complex.

He didn’t rush in.

He knew the meaning behind Yu Zhengxing sending him here, and it wasn’t just to play the role of a charitable youth.

When a mainstay of a family collapses, the rules that sustain the family’s operation are bound to be affected.

Without a strong figure to fill the power vacuum, the accumulated contradictions and dirty tricks of decades or even centuries would erupt all at once.

If things got bad, the family could disintegrate completely.

Branch families, legitimate lines, and side branches all biting and sabotaging each other were just hurdles a family must navigate to flourish and prosper.

If they got past it, they would thrive even more; if not, the Wen family would become just a part of Three Rivers Prefecture history, losing their past glory in the passage of time and forgotten by others.

Yu Zhengxing’s intention was to help the Wen family find a new backbone, to give them a leg up, send them off.

Well, probably not too far, as he had his own plethora of troubles to deal with.

As for the wealth and resources in the Treasure Gourd, dividing it evenly was the worst strategy.

The moment he walked away, these people would smear their faces with it.

To achieve this, one must have an accurate understanding of the specific internal situation of the Wen family.

Leaving the Wen residence behind, it was too tranquil there; those coming and going were people of status, not suitable for questioning.

He turned down a couple of streets and suddenly, the scene burst with activity.

The streets were bustling with people jostling against each other and various shops and taverns were lined up, one after another.

After wandering around the street for a while, he set his sights on a middle-aged man with a sleazy look, a sheepish grin, and shifty eyes.

In just a short while, the fellow had gone into two shops to freeload, threatened an out-of-town scholar into paying him some money, and whispered with some hoodlums on the corner.

He was a typical street tough, instigating fights, stealing opportunely, collecting protection money, and occasionally settling disputes.

With a slight smile, he walked up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, “Agu, what are you doing here?”

The street tough was taken aback; he didn’t recognize this man, nor was his name Agu.

However, the man had a fierce look about him, not big and burly, but with a certain ferocity.

On the street, having a strong presence was essential, so he struggled, but to no avail, and stopped resisting.

Instead, he looked up meekly and said,

“Big brother, you seem unfamiliar to me.

My name isn’t Agu, maybe you’ve got the wrong person?

But if big brother is in trouble, I’ll certainly not shirk my duty to help!”

Feeling the man’s hand sneaking into his chest, Hou Niao quickly took his hand and twisted both the street tough’s hands behind his back, locking his thumbs together with a finger clamp.

“If I say you’re Agu, then you’re Agu!

What do you say, shall we step aside to talk?”

The street tough was terrified.

He was all too familiar with this method of constraint—it was commonly used by officials on uncooperative suspects.

And this was just the beginning; the subsequent methods could be even more brutal, leaving one’s hands completely useless if not handled properly.

He begged urgently, “Please show me mercy, squad leader.

I’ve paid my dues this month in full.

If you’re not satisfied, I can make a separate payment just for you?”

Hou Niao casually adjusted the street tough’s already skewed clothes to his back, making it look to bystanders as if the two were arm-in-arm, with one’s clothing hanging off.

This was his old trade; having worked in criminal investigation, such tricks were second nature to him, allowing him to whisk someone away from a crowded place without attracting attention.

He led the street tough to a quiet, open-air tea house, removed the finger clamp, and pushed him down onto a chair, sitting down in front of him with one hand still on the man’s shoulder,

“I don’t want your tribute.

I’ll give you tribute!”