Another man collapsed. Though his body still twitched slightly, he was no longer a living person—just a corpse.
“Five,” Xu Maoxiu said, staring at the body lying at the door.
Of the dozen or so thugs who had arrived so aggressively, five were now dead in the blink of an eye. The remaining six or seven had been frightened into collapsing on the ground, clutching their heads and kowtowing frantically as they begged for mercy, staring at the three men before them who now seemed to loom even larger.
People passing by on the main road had finally seen what was happening—and with a loud uproar, chaos broke out.
Fan Jianglin and Xu Bangchui came to a stop at Xu Maoxiu’s side.
“Brother, that was hardly satisfying. I only got to shoot one arrow,” Xu Bangchui said, licking his lips, eyes gleaming. He raised his bow and arrow toward the thugs still kowtowing on the ground. “Let’s finish off the rest of them…”
“Enough,” Xu Maoxiu said.
Five lives lost—this was no petty matter. He lifted his head to look toward the road and could just make out seven or eight constables running toward them.
As his sister had said—things had gotten out of hand.
The crowd on the main road suddenly began to move, running in a strange, unsettled wave.
“What’s going on?” Zhou Liu-lang asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked ahead.
People carrying loads on their shoulders, dragging carts, or driving horses—all were running in the same direction, regardless of where they’d come from.
“You really are nosy,” Young Master Qin said, setting down the book in his hands inside the carriage.
“I’m treating you to a meal, what’s wrong with that?” Zhou Liu-lang replied, his gaze fixed straight ahead, brows knitting slightly.
The direction the crowd was running toward seemed to be…
“Treating me to a meal? Tai Ping Residence is closed—what are we supposed to eat there?” Young Master Qin snorted.
“I never said I was taking you to Tai Ping Residence,” Zhou Liu-lang replied.
Young Master Qin chuckled.
“It has its own reasons for closing down. You’re worrying for nothing,” he said.
Zhou Liu-lang turned to look at him.
Young Master Qin met his gaze.
“She’s my cousin. Of course I worry,” Zhou Liu-lang said with a grunt. “You—just one day, and somehow you already know whether it’s closed or not?”
Young Master Qin burst out laughing.
“Because I want peace too,” he said.
As they spoke, their carriage and horses continued moving forward. After a short distance, the commotion up ahead grew even more intense. More and more people were rushing back and forth, questioning one another as they went.
“What’s going on? Why is everyone running?”
“Hurry and see—there’s been a murder at Tai Ping Residence!”
Tai Ping Residence? A murder!
Zhou Liu-lang and Young Master Qin exchanged a glance, both seeing shock and alarm in the other’s eyes.
That lady! He’d said it before—she was always getting into trouble!
Zhou Liu-lang snapped the reins. The horse neighed and sped forward at a gallop.
Meanwhile, in Puxiu Temple, two monks stepped into Master Minghai’s quarters.
“What did the people from Tai Ping Residence say?”
Master Minghai asked, setting down the brush in his hand.
“They said someone coveted the tofu-making method of Tai Ping Residence, and a conflict broke out,” one of the monks replied respectfully.
Master Minghai smiled faintly.
“That was inevitable,” he said, his tone carrying deeper meaning.
The room fell silent for a moment.
“Go on, then. Though we are men outside the world of dust, free from worldly rites and rules, we are still not immune to entanglements of the mortal realm,” said Master Minghai.
It was clear he intended to intervene. The two monks understood and quietly withdrew.
“Chen Mantang, oh Chen Mantang,” he murmured with a smile, “you owe the Buddha another favor now… and it must be repaid.”
With that soft, smiling whisper, the room returned to silence.
The constables from the capital’s magistrate were mostly seasoned veterans who’d been navigating the ins and outs of the city for over a decade. Without sharp eyes, steady nerves, and quick wits, it was impossible to survive long in the capital.
But even so, the events of today left the seven or eight of them utterly stunned.
A dense crowd of onlookers had already gathered, drawn by the news. On the ground, five corpses still lay sprawled in the positions they had died in, their twisted, terrified expressions in death causing the spectators to flinch and murmur from time to time.
“What in the world happened here?” the lead constable shouted.
“Sir, these thieves came to our shop just now intending to rob us. We had no choice but to kill them in self-defense,” Xu Maoxiu stepped forward and said respectfully.
Nonsense. Utter nonsense.
The constable screamed in his mind, his gaze flickering with unease as he stared at the tall man before him.
“What exactly were they trying to steal from you?” the constable couldn’t help but blurt out.
That one question made Xu Maoxiu’s eyes narrow slightly, and outside the crowd, Young Master Qin and Zhou Liu-lang exchanged a glance, understanding instantly.
To question so directly without any investigation or inquiry—clearly, they already knew something about the situation.
Just as his sister had said: if these men dared to show up, they must have come prepared. The commotion was just a cover—the real goal was to drag them into a legal entanglement, to get them involved in a lawsuit, and in the process, have them hauled off to the authorities, and eventually, into prison.
And once you’re in prison…
Just look at how conveniently these constables arrived—it was obvious there were more tricks waiting for them.
If they really wanted to blow this up, then so be it. As long as the matter could be laid bare in front of the public, there was nothing to fear. What was truly frightening was being dragged into the shadows, where nothing could be explained clearly.
“Sir, do you know what kind of place this is?” Xu Maoxiu asked calmly.
“Isn’t this just a restaurant?” the constable barked back, his tone laced with menace.
What they originally thought would be a simple brawl had escalated into a murder case. The sudden turn of events left their heads buzzing—they weren’t prepared for this. Still, at least now they had a legitimate excuse to throw someone in jail, so it wouldn’t look like they’d taken bribes and done nothing.
“This is indeed a restaurant,” Xu Maoxiu said, “but we also run a workshop here—the Tai Ping Tofu Workshop.”
A workshop?
As soon as the word came out, the constable’s face shifted.
Workshops, especially those with family recipes or trade secrets, were fiercely guarded. It was common knowledge that trespassing into another’s workshop was considered as grave an offense as breaking into someone’s home at night—an act punishable by death with no questions asked.
“The Tai Ping Tofu from my shop—you’ve all heard of it, haven’t you? Its method is unlike any other,” Xu Maoxiu continued, raising his voice slightly so the surrounding crowd could hear.
“Yeah, yeah! I’ve heard of it! It really is different from the rest!” someone in the crowd quickly chimed in.
After the Zen Tea Gathering on March 20th, though not many had seen the tofu carvings with their own eyes that day, it was precisely because they hadn’t seen them that the curiosity lingered even more. Add to that the Pure Veggie Tofu Banquet at Puxiu Temple, and soon the name of Tai Ping Tofu had spread far and wide. Many tofu makers around the capital tried to ride the wave, but none of them could replicate it—if anything, their attempts only made Tai Ping Tofu’s reputation shine even brighter.
So when Xu Maoxiu mentioned it, the onlookers suddenly understood.
Such a remarkable technique—of course many would covet it.
“Outrageous! Robbery in broad daylight—does the law even exist anymore?!” someone shouted, righteous indignation in their voice.
That sparked a wave of agreement.
“Exactly! It’s disgusting!”
“Those thugs came around a few days ago too—clearly up to no good!”
It didn’t take much—just a few words and the whole crowd had already made up their minds about who was in the wrong. The constables began to panic slightly, shouting to quiet the crowd. But with so many people talking at once, they couldn’t even tell who’d started it all.
Zhou Liu-lang looked over at Young Master Qin. Young Master Qin chuckled, let go of his cane, and sat back in the carriage, shooting Zhou a wink and a grin.
“You there—don’t go spouting nonsense!” the constable barked, trying to reassert control. “In broad daylight like this, who in their right mind would try to rob a place now?”
Even as he said that, he gestured for the other constables to push back the growing crowd of onlookers. Inwardly, he was kicking himself for not bringing more men.
Who would’ve thought a routine little case would turn into such a mess?
These thugs—they actually killed people!
Killed them! How could they dare?!
Xu Maoxiu let out a cold laugh and turned his gaze back to the constable.
“Sir, I wouldn’t dare make baseless claims. In broad daylight, no one dares twist truth into lies. What I said—was from my own mouth to his own ears. The ringleader admitted it himself,” he declared loudly, pointing to the trembling gang of ruffians still huddled nearby.
“If you don’t believe me, ask them.”
As he spoke, Xu Bangchui stepped forward and gave one of the thugs a swift kick.
“He’s talking to you!” he barked, eyes fierce.
The thug, already shaken and in a daze, recalled how this fierce man had earlier pointed a bow and arrow at him, as if eager to shoot him dead.
He quickly looked up, his mind a whirl, and then immediately bowed his head to Xu Bangchui in a frantic gesture.
“Speak! Was it Zhu Wu who sent you?” Xu Maoxiu demanded.
The moment the name “Zhu Wu” was mentioned, the constables’ faces turned pale.
He really asked that out loud?
How is this possible?!
“I asked you all earlier who sent him to steal our recipe, and he said the name Zhu Wu with his own mouth. Did you hear that?” Xu Maoxiu asked again, his tone stern.
The thugs’ minds were buzzing.
Did they hear it? Did they hear it?
At that time, three of their companions had dropped dead right in front of them as they entered. Then, Wang Da’s trusted men were shot through by arrows after just a single sentence, and those three fierce men with bows and arrows had stepped forward, inching closer.
“Speak! Who is it?”
“Zhu Wu!”
With this exchange, Wang Da was shot through the throat in front of them, the tyrant who had ruled the West Street for so many years was gone with a single glance, no words left behind.
Xu Maoxiu took another step forward, raising his eyebrows and glaring at the five men.
“Speak! Who’s the one who coveted our secret recipe and ordered you to come and steal it?” he demanded.
“Speak! Who is it!”
The thugs all looked up.
“It’s!” they shouted with all their might. “It’s Zhu Wu! It’s Zhu Wu!”