87: Kill Zhang Yucheng!

With the killing intent settled in his heart, Chen Linsheng no longer hesitated.

He knew well that this was a golden opportunity that might only come once in a thousand years.

The Envoy of the White Lotus Sect, Wei Jingtong, and the Evil Daoist were mutually wounded deep in the Black Water Ravine and must be nursing their injuries deep within the Black Mountain Gang's lair, making it difficult for them to pay attention to the outside world in the short term.

At this moment, the only person truly formidable at the Black Mountain Gang's headquarters was the Chief, Zhang Zhifeng.

And today was the monthly day when County Commandant Wang “invited” Zhang Zhifeng to go “drink tea.”

This had become a custom since Master Zhao Zheng mobilized official forces to suppress the Black Mountain Gang, aiming to continuously weaken Zhang Zhifeng's prestige and wear down his patience.

Even if Zhang Zhifeng was extremely unwilling, he dared not openly defy the authorities, which gave Chen Linsheng the space to infiltrate and act.

“Forcing my way in with martial force is the worst plan. To deal with Zhang Zhifeng, I don't necessarily need a frontal confrontation. Slaying his ‘hope’ while he is absent is the best plan!”

Chen Linsheng's eyes were cold, and a clear plan rapidly formed in his mind.

He once again utilized the Skill of Disguise Perfection. His bones emitted subtle cracking sounds, and his facial muscles writhed. He quickly transformed into a low-level Black Mountain Gang lackey with a sallow complexion and eyes that held a hint of cunning and servility.

He changed into a slightly oversized gray gang member uniform, stripped from some unfortunate hooligan, and restrained his aura to the extreme before blending into the crowd and silently heading toward the East City.

The East City was the core area where the Black Mountain Gang's influence resided. Compared to the orderly West City, this place appeared more chaotic and dilapidated.

The streets were narrow, the houses low, and the air was filled with a faint, pervasive smell of decay.

Ragged commoners huddled in corners, their eyes vacant, while the few better-dressed pedestrians mostly wore expressions of vigilance and unease.

Chen Linsheng, in the Incarnation of a lackey, was like a drop of water entering the ocean, completely inconspicuous.

He imitated the demeanor of other gang members, lazily “patrolling” the designated streets, yet his gaze was like the sharpest falcon, subtly surveying the Black Mountain Gang's high-walled, heavily guarded headquarters.

He waited patiently, calculating the time.

After about half an hour, the opportunity finally arrived.

Several Black Mountain Gang members were seen escorting a carriage that was luxuriously decorated yet exuded an eerie chill. They hurried back from outside and stopped at the side gate of the headquarters.

A small foreman guarding the entrance immediately went up to greet them, his face plastered with flattery, yet his mouth was loudly cursing, seemingly to display his authority:

“Careful! Damn it, everyone be gentle! This carriage is exclusively for the Young Master. If you scratch or bump it, you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold yourselves!”

He pointed at the gang members and instructed them one by one:

“Zhang San! You idiot, hurry up and take the horse to the stable! Have Old Li the Groom properly brush its coat; don't let it get startled after the trip!”

“Zhou Wu! Go find Wang the Carpenter. Tell him to quickly come and inspect the axle and wheels. The Young Master might need it at any time, and there can be no mistakes!”

“Zhao Liu! What are you standing around for? Hurry to the kitchen and have them prepare the Young Master's favorite Furong Cake and Cloud Mist Tea, and be quick!”

The foreman seemed to be scolding them, but every sentence mentioned the “Young Master,” and the flattery and subservience in his tone were almost overflowing.

Chen Linsheng's heart stirred. He slowed his steps, listening clearly to the conversation.

‘Young Master? Zhang Yuchen!’ He sneered inwardly. ‘As expected, he couldn't restrain himself and had to come out and move around?’

He forcefully suppressed the impulse to act immediately. His disguised face maintained a vacant, deadbeat expression as he continued patrolling along the predetermined route.

But he had locked onto that carriage and the activity near the side gate.

He needed to confirm whether the person inside the carriage was Zhang Yuchen himself.

After about the Time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, Chen Linsheng timed his patrol route and circled back to the corner near the side gate. Sure enough, the luxurious carriage had been pulled out again and was stopped at the entrance.

His gaze sharpened. The Python Dragon Strength quietly circulated within him, and a trace of imperceptible, icy Dragon Force penetrated the air, skillfully manipulating a nearby current of Qi.

Just then, a sudden, precise gust of wind, though not strong, blew through, and with a “whoosh,” it lifted a corner of the carriage window's heavy curtain.

As the curtain fluttered, a profile—so pale it lacked any color, with vacant eyes holding an indescribably Evil Path presence—clearly entered Chen Linsheng's view. It was Zhang Yuchen!

Although it was only a fleeting glance, Chen Linsheng's insight from Tracking Perfection was astonishing. He instantly captured the deathly pallor on the face, which was unlike that of a living person, as well as the strange aura emanating from his body—a chilling mix of blood and coldness that could be faintly sensed even through the carriage.

“It is him!” Chen Linsheng felt certain, his killing intent surging like a hidden current beneath a frozen lake.

He didn't linger. Like an ordinary gang member who had finished his patrol and was rushing off to slack, he lowered his head, quickened his pace, and quickly disappeared into the shadows of another alley. Next, he needed to select the most suitable location, a place where Zhang Yuchen could vanish silently without immediately alarming the Black Mountain Gang into a massive search... Meanwhile, in the back hall of the County Office.

Zhang Zhifeng sat upright on a Pear Blossom Wood Chair in the lower position, holding a cup of high-quality Cloud Mist Tea. The tea aroma wafted up but did nothing to dispel the faint gloom between his brows.

County Commandant Wang sat in the main seat, slowly savoring his tea and speaking some irrelevant official rhetoric—nothing more than maintaining local stability and restricting the behavior of gang members, and so on.

Normally, Zhang Zhifeng would already be impatient, dealing with the situation superficially.

But today, while appearing to listen respectfully, his mind was somewhat distant.

His confidence at this moment was far greater than the outside world imagined.

The reason was simple: his son Zhang Yuchen's “problem” had been “resolved.”

Thanks to the “improvement” of the White Lotus Sect's Secret Technique, the after-effects of the Soul Transfer Great Art—apart from the headache-inducing side effect of still needing to regularly consume Vital Blood and Qi of living people to maintain his state—would no longer leave any verifiable, indelible spiritual imprints.

This meant that as long as there was no concrete evidence of Zhang Yuchen caught in the act of consuming human blood, even if everyone in Qinghe County suspected him, they couldn't produce any substantial evidence to accuse him of being connected to the White Lotus Sect! Imperial laws emphasized irrefutable evidence.

Thinking of this, Zhang Zhifeng even “thanked” the current Emperor Your Majesty in his heart.

If not for the fact that after this Your Majesty ascended the throne, he vigorously rectified the official administration, emphasized legal procedures, and abolished the harsh methods of the previous dynasty—especially those from the time of the Founding Ancestor, which favored “rather kill a thousand innocents than let one guilty person escape”—mere suspicion would have been enough to destroy his Black Mountain Gang and family.

‘As long as Chen’er can successfully participate in the Martial Examination, obtain an official title, and infiltrate the Imperial Court... my Black Mountain Gang, my Zhang lineage, might just be able to ride this favorable wind and soar to the heavens!’

A trace of ambition flashed in the depths of Zhang Zhifeng's eyes.

However, just then, his right eyelid suddenly twitched a few times without warning.

A sudden wave of irritability and unease arose in his heart.

‘What’s going on?’ Zhang Zhifeng frowned slightly and subconsciously tightened his grip on the teacup. ‘Could it be... that Wei Jingtong is causing trouble again?’

The thought of that heavily wounded, eccentric Envoy of the White Lotus Sect gave Zhang Zhifeng a headache. This person was immensely powerful and possessed strange methods; he was an important figure in the Sect, and Zhang Zhifeng could not afford to offend him. But his existence was like a bomb that could explode at any moment, and if mishandled, it would blow him and the entire Black Mountain Gang to smithereens.

‘This rogue returned heavily injured, and the Vital Blood and Qi he needs are greater than usual, and the commotion is also bigger... I really want to...’ A dangerous thought flashed through Zhang Zhifeng's mind, immediately suppressed by force. Now was not the time.

He could only secretly pray that Wei Jingtong would behave himself and stop causing further complications. As long as they endured this period, when Chen’er achieved fame and success, everything would be different.

But that inexplicable palpitation lingered in his heart like a dark cloud, refusing to dissipate.