Chapter 3: Black Tiger Gang
The violent banging against the courtyard doors caused Bai Qingyue’s frail shoulders to jolt. She then gripped the wooden armrests of her wheelchair, her knuckles turning white. In her prime, these thugs would not even be qualified to kneel at her gates, but now, every loud noise was a stark reminder of her helplessness.
"Who... who is that?" she asked, her voice tight with a mixture of apprehension and lingering exhaustion.
Lin Yuan’s expression remained placid, though a cold light flickered deep within his pupils. He calmly brushed off a speck of dust from his faded red groom’s robe.
"It is the Black Tiger Gang," Lin Yuan answered.
Bai Qingyue’s eyes widened slightly, a bitter understanding washing over her. "The Black Tiger Gang... So, they are here to collect your debt."
"Indeed. I owe them two hundred Spirit Stones," Lin Yuan replied, patting his waist where the pouch rested. "I am going out to meet them. I wish to give them these two hundred Spirit Stones and settle this karma once and for all. Wait here, Wife. The damp wind outside is not good for you."
He did not wait for her to protest. Turning on his heel, Lin Yuan pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped out into the outer courtyard.
*******
At the outer courtyard, Standing with pure arrogance, were four burly men. They wore matching black robes embroidered with the snarling visage of a tiger on their chests. Their spiritual qi rolled off them in oppressive waves, entirely unrestrained, meant to intimidate and subjugate the weak.
Leading the pack was Zhao Meng, a hulking brute with a scar running from his temple down to his jawline. He spat a wad of chewed betel nut into the mud as Lin Yuan emerged.
"Well, well, well! If it isn’t the outer city’s most famous trash!" Zhao Meng sneered, his laughter cutting through the rain. The three lackeys behind him immediately joined in, "We thought you had hanged yourself in fear, Lin Yuan. Or maybe you were too busy enjoying the taste of fallen swan meat?"
"Look at this miserable wretch," one of the lackeys mocked, pointing a finger at Lin Yuan. "A toad lusting after swan meat, indeed! Only, the swan has been plucked bare and tossed in the mud. Trash marrying a cripple. Truly, the heavens have a twisted sense of humor! The perfect match!"
Lin Yuan’s face remained still. In the cultivation world, the weak were prey to the strong. Trash talk from thugs was as common as breathing; reacting to it with unbacked fury was merely courting death.
Without a single word of retort, Lin Yuan untied the pouch from his belt and tossed it through the rain, landing squarely in Zhao Meng’s palm.
"Two hundred Spirit Stones," Lin Yuan stated, his tone flat and unwavering. "Principal and interest, paid in full. Our transaction is complete. The debt is settled."
Zhao Meng’s brows furrowed in genuine surprise. He hastily yanked open the drawstrings of the pouch, a greedy light flashing in his eyes as the faint glow of spiritual energy illuminated his face. He ran his fingers through the stones, verifying their authenticity.
A mocking grin slowly stretched across the gang leader’s face.
"I’ll be damned," Zhao Meng chuckled, tying the pouch to his own waist. He looked Lin Yuan up and down, as if evaluating a piece of livestock. "It really does pay to marry a mortal. I never thought a piece of garbage like you could scrape together even ten stones, let alone two hundred. To think the Bai Clan would actually pay you to haul away their crippled!"
Lin Yuan stood silently in the rain, waiting for them to leave. But greed, once ignited, is a fire that cannot be easily quenched.
Zhao Meng took a heavy step forward, his boots squelching loudly. He crossed his arms over his chest, his aura expanding maliciously.
"However," Zhao Meng continued, tilting his head. "Now that you have married into the great Bai Clan, you are technically a wealthy young master, aren’t you? A son-in-law of a prominent family! It would be a loss of face for you if we just took this meager sum and left."
Lin Yuan’s eyes narrowed. "The debt was two hundred. What are you implying?"
"I am saying," Zhao Meng sneered, "that collecting this debt has been very stressful for me and my brothers. Standing in the rain, dealing with trash... it takes a toll on a cultivator’s mental state. Therefore, consider this a new arrangement. I will be coming back here every week to collect fifty Spirit Stones. Consider it a ’payment for stress’. And also a protection fee for your beautiful mortal wife."
The three lackeys behind him grinned viciously, cracking their knuckles.
Lin Yuan remained silent, but his mind was calculating at lightning speed. He swept his gaze over the four men.
The three lackeys radiating spiritual pressure were all at the 9th level of Qi Condensation. Zhao Meng himself was at the absolute peak of the 9th level, possessing a fleshly body tempered by countless brutal fights.
And Lin Yuan? He was a pathetic 3rd level Qi Condensation cultivator.
In the early stages of cultivation, every single level was a chasm. A 3rd level cultivator was barely stronger than a healthy mortal, possessing only a tiny stream of qi to enhance their stamina. A 9th level cultivator, however, could shatter boulders with a single punch and move faster than the mortal eye could track. To fight four of them was the equivalent of a mantis trying to stop a charging war chariot. It was hitting a stone with an egg.
Yet, Lin Yuan knew the ruthless logic of this world. If he bowed his head today, if he showed even a fraction of weakness, they would not stop at fifty stones. They would bleed him dry, rip apart his home, and eventually, their vile gazes would fall upon Bai Qingyue. He possessed the Millionfold Return System, the ultimate key to standing at the apex of the universe, but he needed time to grow. If he didn’t draw a line in the sand right here, right now, they would definitely keep coming and eventually harm his wife.
He had to engage. He had to stand his ground.
"You speak of wealth, but you are drawing water with a bamboo basket," Lin Yuan said, his voice finally taking on a sharp edge. He met Zhao Meng’s predatory gaze without flinching. "Let me talk some sense into you. The deal was two hundred Spirit Stones, and you have them. My wife has been completely rejected and cast out by the Bai Clan for being a cripple, both in cultivation and physically. There is no endless treasury backing me. There is no weekly allowance. There is no more money to give. Take your spirit stones and leave."
The heavy rain seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second.
The lackeys stared at Lin Yuan in stunned disbelief. A 3rd level trash was actually daring to talk back? Was he actively courting death?
Zhao Meng’s face flushed an ugly purple. The veins on his thick neck bulged as his pride was fiercely stung by the sheer audacity of this lower-rung weakling.
"Refusing face when given! You want to talk sense to me?!" Zhao Meng roared, his spiritual qi erupting. The rainwater around him vaporized into hissing steam. "I’ll beat the sense into your broken bones! Die, you outer-city dog!"
Without a second’s hesitation, Zhao Meng lunged forward. The spiritual qi in his body surged violently into his right arm. His fist expanded, engulfed in a terrifying black aura that manifested into the phantom shape of a roaring beast.
"Black Tiger Fist!"