520: Chapter 520 The Black Tiger Gang Comes to the Door

Just as spring blossoms in Northern Border City, Qingshan Town, far off in the Western Border Region, was still immersed in the biting residual cold.

During the day, the marketplace was bustling and noisy, but as dusk fell and the lights of ten thousand homes went out one by one, the entire town fell into the deep night.

It was already midnight; all was quiet. No insects chirped, no dogs barked; only a deathly silence remained between heaven and earth.

Only the Wang Family Estate was colder and more desolate than the deep night.

Steward Wang, the head of the household, had still not returned.

Everyone in the manor had long grown used to it—this master was away nine nights out of ten, likely drunk in some brothel or pleasure house in town, indulging in a world of gentle pleasures and tossing his wife, children, and family affairs to the back of his mind.

Wan Xiangyu sat alone by the edge of her empty bed, her plain white sleeping robes making her complexion appear even more fair and delicate.

She looked up at the solitary moon outside the window; its cold, clear radiance spilled onto the window frame and into the depths of her eyes.

There wasn't a hint of worry in her heart; instead, it was ice-cold, as cold as the frost-covered stones in the courtyard.

She slowly lay down, her gaze falling upon the intricate carvings on the bed canopy. The intertwined lotus patterns flickered in the dim light, but her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to a year ago.

That day, through a series of accidents and entanglements with Situ Jun, a forbidden romance had ultimately blossomed.

At first, a few traces of guilt toward Steward Wang remained in her heart, feeling that as the First Madam of the Wang family, her conduct was flawed and she had failed to strictly observe wifely virtues.

But at the thought of Steward Wang frequenting brothels daily, even brazenly bringing songstresses back to the manor, indulging in wine and women all day while ignoring family affairs—leaving the vast Wang family entirely to her to maintain—that meager guilt vanished like snow under a blazing sun, leaving not a trace.

In the dead of night when no one was around, Situ Jun's figure would uncontrollably surface in her mind time and again.

Dressed in black as dark as ink, his posture was as upright as a pine tree. His brow and eyes held a sense of steadiness and sharpness—a demeanor and sense of responsibility that Steward Wang wouldn't possess even if he cultivated for a hundred years.

If not for her concern for the Wang family's reputation, the hollow prestige of the past dozen years, and the fear of worldly gossip, she would have long ago left this suffocating cage and traveled to the ends of the earth.

The more she thought, the more aggrieved she felt. Her nose prickled slightly, and her eyes quietly turned red.

She gently raised her hand, reaching deep into her robes to pull out a warm dragon phoenix jade pendant.

The jade pendant felt slightly cool to the touch, its texture fine and lustrous, with the ancient Dragon and Phoenix patterns carved upon it appearing vivid and spirited.

Though it was cold jade, holding it in her palm strangely gave her a sense of stability, as if a silent figure were quietly guarding her side, shielding her from some of the cold desolation.

Wan Xiangyu lay on the bed and slowly closed her eyes, her mind churning restlessly—

She remembered when Situ Jun was poisoned; despite being in unbearable pain himself, he had still forced himself to stand in front of her, refusing to let her suffer even a hint of fright.

She remembered during their Dual Cultivation, the scorching and majestic Spiritual Qi within him had swept over like a raging fire, so powerful it made one's heart tremble, yet also provided an immense sense of security.

At this thought, her cheeks suddenly flushed hot, the tips of her ears turned red, and a wave of shyness rushed to her head. She hurriedly pulled over the brocade quilt, burying her entire face inside.

The aura inside the quilt was stuffy, but her heart beat like a drum, thumping loudly, unable to settle for a long time.

She abruptly threw off the quilt, gasping for air, and shook her head vigorously, trying to forcibly dispel these shameful thoughts.

But the more she forced herself to forget, the clearer that black-robed figure became. He had already taken root and sprouted in the depths of her heart, growing lush and inescapable.

...

A few days later, the light was perfect and the warm sun shone brightly, spilling into the courtyard.

Wan Xiangyu, dressed in plain clothes, stood beneath a flower trellis, holding silver shears and quietly pruning the branches.

The shears fell gently, and leaves fluttered down. Her movements were soft and slow, her brow and eyes carrying a rare peace, as if the worries of the past few days had been temporarily smoothed away by the spring scenery filling the garden.

“First Madam! This is bad! Something terrible has happened!”

The housekeeper's panicked voice suddenly shattered the peace of the courtyard, sharp and urgent, carrying a death-like franticness.

Wan Xiangyu's heart sank abruptly, her fingertips trembled, and with a “snip,” the silver shears cut through a branch that shouldn't have been pruned.

She didn't have time to think. Hurriedly putting down the shears, she walked quickly toward the front hall.

Her hem swept across the bluestone floor, bringing a gust of wind; her plain robes fluttered, and her expression was solemn.

Just as she stepped into the front hall, a thick, pungent scent of blood assaulted her, making her chest feel tight.

She saw Steward Wang being clumsily carried to a chair by two Servants. He was covered in injuries, his clothes were in tatters, bleeding in many places. His face was as pale as paper, his Aura was weak and intermittent, looking as if he were about to breathe his last.

Beside him stood several fierce-looking men, each with a murderous glint in their eyes, holding sharp blades. They were aggressive, their Aura completely blocking the front hall.

The leader was a bald man with a face full of flesh and a murderous look. A thick-backed machete hung at his waist, its blade glinting coldly.

His eyes were sinister as he scanned the hall unscrupulously, his arrogant Killing Intent completely undisguised.

“Who are you people? Why have you laid such a cruel hand on our Steward?”

Anger surged in Wan Xiangyu's heart.

She didn't even need to think to know that Steward Wang must have caused trouble outside, drinking and gambling, and offended some ruthless characters.

But even though she felt a bitter resentment toward him, she still suppressed her anger, straightened her back, and questioned them coldly.

The Bald Big Man sneered, his gaze like a slimy venomous snake landing on Wan Xiangyu, scanning her from head to toe, making no attempt to hide the greed and lust in his eyes:

“We are from the Black Tiger Gang! Your husband owes our gang thirty thousand taels of silver in gambling debts, and today is the deadline! If you can't produce the silver... then we'll take you, a delicate beauty, to settle the debt! Hehe!”

Wan Xiangyu's expression changed drastically.

Who in Qingshan Town didn't know of the Black Tiger Gang? They were a group of local thugs and hoodlums who committed all sorts of crimes—burning, killing, and looting. They were ruthless, with deep-seated influence that even the local authorities had to avoid.

She only knew that Steward Wang was addicted to wine and women, but she never imagined he would also develop a gambling addiction and owe such a huge sum of money, directly leading these plagues to their home and placing the entire Wang family in danger.

“Thirty thousand taels?”

Wan Xiangyu's voice tightened slightly, but she still maintained her composure:

“Although my Wang family has some modest assets, we cannot produce so much cash at once. I ask you to grant us a few days' grace to allow me to sell off some properties in the manor and gather the silver to present to you.”

She tried to delay, secretly looking for a turning point.

“Grace?”

The Bald Big Man acted as if he had heard a huge joke. He took a step forward, his rough hand reaching directly toward Wan Xiangyu's cheek, his tone frivolous yet sinister:

“Madam Xiangyu, is it? You're truly beautiful. But don't play tricks with me! Either get the silver now, or you'll come back to the Black Tiger Gang with me and be my nineteenth wife!”

Wan Xiangyu's eyes suddenly turned cold. Her figure shifted lightly to the side, as graceful as a swan, skillfully avoiding that filthy hand.

In an instant, the Qi within her Qi Refining Level Three quietly circulated, and a faint, imperceptible ripple of Spiritual Qi rose around her.

Her cultivation wasn't high, but she was a Cultivator after all. Dealing with three or five mundane Martial Artists was more than enough.

“Impudent!”

She gave a low shout and struck out with a palm.

The Spiritual Qi in her palm was feminine yet solid. It seemed like a light palm strike, but it contained hidden power, without the slightest hesitation.

The Bald Big Man hadn't expected this seemingly weak and beautiful woman to be a Cultivator!

Caught off guard, he took a solid hit to the chest, staggering back several steps. His chest churned with intense pain, and he nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.