Chapter Seventeen: The Pavilion of Ten Thousand Treasures

Page 1/3

After the snow had cleared, the sun struggled to pierce through the clouds, casting its light upon the ancient city.

In the western district stood the Wanguan Pavilion Gambling House, an establishment usually bustling with activity, now even more striking against the snowy backdrop.

“Place your bets!”

“Stakes are set.”

“Big… big…”

Inside, the charcoal fire roared fiercely; dice clattered in the cup; gamblers, with reddened eyes, shouted their wagers, spitting as they argued. The cries of the dealer, curses from the players, and the clinking of coins blended into a chaotic symphony.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open with a loud bang, and a biting wind swept in, carrying swirling snowflakes.

“County officials conducting an investigation! All bystanders, clear out immediately!”

Captain Zhao stood at the entrance, clad in red and black official robes, the hilt of his sword trembling slightly in the cold wind. Behind him, a squad of constables stood in formation, their eyes sharp and unyielding.

“The constables are here! Run for it!”

“That’s my money—don’t grab it!”

“Damn it, what are these constables doing here?”

Panic erupted instantly within the gambling hall as gamblers scrambled toward the door in alarm.

A middle-aged man, appearing to be the manager, stepped forward slowly, wearing a broad smile and humble demeanor. “Captain Zhao, what brings you and your men to my humble gambling house? You honor me greatly. May I ask what’s the matter? We have always been respectful to the authorities. Perhaps you could withdraw your men first; I still have business to attend to.”

Zhao’s face darkened with fury. He slammed his sword down on the table with a clang, causing cups to jump. “Get your boss, Sun, out here at once! He dared to have someone steal the county magistrate’s official seal. If you know what’s good for you, hand over both the man and the seal to avoid suffering.”

The owner of Wanguan Pavilion was something of an enigma. No one knew his real name or even his residence. He was simply called “Boss Sun” by those who knew of him.

Captain Zhao had never met this Boss Sun personally. The so-called respect was just the manager secretly sending bribes to the government. For these silver coins, Magistrate Li turned a blind eye—someone above had given orders, and naturally, there were benefits below.

Now, Boss Sun had crossed a line. Magistrate Li had commanded their arrest, tearing away any pretense of cordiality. Everything would proceed by the book.

The manager bowed humbly. “Our boss is not here. As for the theft of any seal, perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Zhao sneered, “Who do you think you are? Get your boss out here to answer.”

“Looks like Captain Zhao didn’t come on friendly terms today. I’m afraid this won’t end peacefully.”

The manager stepped back, and from the shadows emerged over thirty thugs, each brandishing knives, swords, or iron rods—clearly prepared and waiting for Zhao’s arrival.

“So, you intend to resist to the end!” Zhao said coldly, unfazed. As a county constable, he had slain demons before; he would not fear these hired brutes.

“This gambling house operates within the law, Captain. Why force us so harshly?”

“Threatening constables with weapons—is that your idea of lawful conduct?”

“If we weren’t forced, do you think my brothers would risk their lives?”

“By order of the magistrate, anyone who obstructs shall be slain without mercy!”

Captain Chen’s voice boomed like thunder as he drew his sword, the cold gleam flashing fiercely. “Kill!”

“Attack! Kill a constable and the boss will pay ten taels of gold!” the manager shouted hoarsely.

The thugs, notorious for petty theft and lawlessness across the city, greed ignited in their eyes at the hefty reward. Like starving wolves, they lunged wildly at the constables.

“Kill!”

Zhao roared like a fierce tiger. When a thug charged at him, he moved with lightning speed, his blade howling through the air as it slashed downward with all his might.

The thug cried out in pain, bleeding profusely as he staggered backward.

The remaining constables were caught in fierce melee with the thugs. Outnumbered nearly two to one, they began to falter, sustaining injuries here and there.

At that moment, a commotion erupted at the gambling hall’s entrance.

Page 2/3

Sergeant Xu Ping arrived swiftly, sword in hand, leading a squad of city guards.

Had Yi Heng been present, he would have recognized Xu Ping immediately—the leader he encountered upon entering the city just days before.

“Brothers, kill them all!” Xu Ping’s gaze blazed as he scanned the battlefield. Spotting a thug attempting to ambush Captain Zhao, Xu Ping moved like a phantom, his sword flashing like a venomous snake, stabbing directly at the assailant’s throat.

The thug’s eyes widened in terror as blood bubbled from his mouth; he collapsed slowly to the ground.

“Brothers, finish them off!”

Captain Zhao weaved through the crowd, his sword a relentless storm of blades. Wherever his weapon struck, thugs fell with agonized screams.

He spotted one trying to flee and bellowed, “Where do you think you’re going!” With a powerful stride, his sword carved an arc through the air, slashing the man’s back and sending him crashing down.

With the city guards joining the fray, the tide quickly turned.

Working in concert, the constables and guards drove the thugs into a corner. One thug wildly swung a club, desperately defending himself.

Yet a guard seized the moment, striking the thug’s thigh with a spear. The thug fell to one knee in pain; before he could react, Captain Zhao delivered the finishing blow.

After a fierce battle, the floor was littered with the thugs’ bodies. The few survivors trembled, utterly broken.

Captain Zhao wiped blood from his face, exhaled deeply, and exchanged a glance with Sergeant Xu Ping, offering a slight smile.

“Captain, we searched the gambling house thoroughly but found no sign of anyone else. That elusive Boss Sun must have fled long ago,” a constable reported from the rear.

“No worries. There’s still one more person here.” Zhao raised his bloodstained sword and smashed a table in the corner, pulling out the trembling manager.

“Where did Boss Sun go?” he demanded.

The manager’s face drained of color, terror-stricken. “Kill me if you want! I don’t know anything.”

At that moment, a faint flute melody drifted from outside, and the gambling hall’s door was suddenly slammed open like a wild horse breaking free, charging straight toward Captain Zhao and Sergeant Xu Ping.

“Move aside!”

Zhao grabbed a nearby constable and dodged to the side.

With a thunderous crash, the door shattered, knocking several constables and guards to the ground, their cries of pain filling the air.

“This is a trap—we’ve been ambushed!”

Lying on the floor, Captain Zhao looked up to see a pale, hollow-eyed figure entering—no, not a person but a living corpse, unmistakably a zombie as described in the ancient texts.

If Yi Heng were here, he would recognize these as the demon corpses that attacked him that night.

In an instant, numerous zombies poured in through doors and windows, encircling Zhao and his men.

The manager, seeing this, broke free from the constables’ grasp and fled toward the zombies, shouting, “Don’t kill me! I’m one of you!”

But the zombies paid no heed, clawing and tearing him to pieces, blood and entrails splattered across the floor.

The gruesome sight caused some young, inexperienced constables and guards to vomit uncontrollably.

A piercing flute sound echoed as the zombies lunged at Captain Zhao and his men.

“Kill them!”

Captain Zhao led the charge against the undead. Yet some of the younger men, trembling uncontrollably, could barely hold their weapons.

Though Zhao and the others fought with reckless courage, the zombies feared no death. Even after multiple sword strikes and heart stabs, they remained unfazed, growing ever more vicious, clawing back fiercely.

“Help me!”

A young constable was surrounded and gruesomely devoured by the zombies.

The others fought desperately but were forced to retreat, powerless against the unkillable horde.

With a fierce swing, Captain Zhao decapitated a zombie, but he and several others, including Xu Ping, were pushed against a wall, wounded.

Most of their comrades lay dead in pools of blood. A constable with a broken leg crawled painfully, only to have his skull crushed by a zombie's foot.

“Ah! I’ll fight to the death!” a guard, overwhelmed, charged at the zombies despite Zhao’s shouts of “No!”

Before killing a single zombie, the man was overwhelmed and torn apart, his screams filling the gambling house.

Captain Zhao clenched his teeth as tears welled up, despair washing over him, his strength failing.

Despite their best efforts, the zombies surged like tides. Their stamina drained rapidly, wounds multiplying, blood flowing freely.

“Are we all going to die here today?” Zhao murmured, his voice laden with bitterness and despair.

Their resistance seemed futile against the endless wave of undead.

“Looks like I’m a bit late again. And it’s those zombies once more.”

A mocking voice came from outside the gambling house, followed by a figure stepping inside.

It was the young waiter from the Green Tea House.

The youth wore faded clothes, collar half-open, exuding a lazy air. Yet his eyes shone brightly, like a hunter spotting prey.

From afar, Captain Zhao caught sight of the boy and grasped at hope, calling out loudly, “Brother Linfeng, save us!”

“Just a moment!”

The waiter’s fingers flicked swiftly, energy swirling as he muttered incantations.

In an instant, streams of spiritual energy, like agile dragons, surged from his slender fingertips, transforming into sharp wind blades that howled through the air toward the lunging zombies.

Where the wind blades passed, blood splattered as zombie necks were severed easily like brittle straw.

In moments, the gambling house was showered with flying zombie heads—a rain of blood.

Within a brief time, the once terrifying zombies were all cut down.

Captain Zhao and Xu Ping, staring at the seemingly celestial figure before them, felt their knees weaken and collapsed, exhaling deeply.

“Thank you, Brother Linfeng, for saving our lives!” Captain Zhao rose gratefully, expressing his thanks.

“Hey! Why are only you guys here?” The waiter scanned the surroundings anxiously, quickly glancing around. “Where’s that brat Yi Heng?”

He had not come only to slay demons but was after Yi Heng.

Three years prior, Linfeng and Yi Heng were both friends and rivals of comparable skill.

Back then, no matter what contest, Linfeng was always slightly inferior, earning the teasing nickname “Half-Loser Linfeng” from their companions—a clear mockery.

Determined to surpass Yi Heng, Linfeng had trained diligently all these years. Hearing of Yi Heng’s return, he planned to showcase his skills during this demon hunt and put Yi Heng in his place. But his carefully laid plan had failed.

That scoundrel wasn’t here!

Linfeng stepped forward, pressing, “Do you know where that bastard went?”

Captain Zhao quickly explained, “Brother Linfeng, on our way here to Wanguan Pavilion, Young Master Yi Heng encountered a petty thief. He told us to come ahead to the gambling house while he went after the thief himself.”

“I’ll go find him.” Just as Linfeng moved to leave, the gambling house suddenly filled with a chilling wind. The candle flames flickered violently, threatening to go out.

On the floor, the blood of the dead began to creep together eerily, writhing. A sinister aura suddenly engulfed the entire gambling hall.

Linfeng’s expression turned grave as he slowly looked up. “Could it be... the Blood Demon?”

Page 3/3