In the cemetery behind the shantytown.
This was arguably the only clean place in the outer sections of the entire shantytown.
These poor people would rather let themselves be dirty than desecrate the resting places of their ancestors.
Perhaps because the day had washed away all the rain and mist, there were no heavy clouds in the sky. The crescent moon of early spring was exceptionally bright, its silvery light flowing like water and draping like gauze.
"These mud-legs... I don't know what goes on in their heads, always asking for a beating!"
The scar-faced man took a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that slightly blurred the nearby moonlight.
He glanced at the shantytown residents fleeing in disarray and spat softly.
"Just asking for it!"
"Don't be so angry, boss," a young man next to him said cheerfully. "Speaking of which, that old geezer from earlier was a tough one. Even with his legs broken, he wouldn't leave, just kept yelling about protecting his ancestors' peace..."
He paused, then gave a scornful laugh.
"These guys never stop to think. If their ancestors could really perform miracles or leave behind some blessing to protect them, would they still be here, living like a pile of unsightly mud?"
"That's enough," the scar-faced man interrupted. "Go easier on them from now on. These mud-legs are pitiful people, too."
As he spoke, he took another deep drag. The cherry burned down to the butt, growing hot.
The scar-faced man flicked the butt away, shook his hand, and said,
"Let's get to work. Level this place quickly so we can report back to the people from Sakata Heavy Industries, get paid, and go home. My old ma is waiting for me!"
The young man nodded decisively and waved his hand. A huge excavator started up, its roaring clash of steel exceptionally jarring in the quiet, moonlit night.
"Someone else is coming?"
The scar-faced man's brow furrowed. He spotted two small figures running toward them in the distance, and his temper flared.
"Don't these mud-legs ever give up? You really think I'm some kind of pushover?"
As he spoke, he pulled a grimy-looking pistol from his waistband, a hint of a menacing aura swirling around him.
"You two brats, scram!"
Seeing the dark muzzle of the gun, Wu Xiaoxu was so scared his hair stood on end. He began to stammer incoherently.
"Brother Xuan, a gun... a gun!!"
Lu Xuan, who had run all the way here, wasn't flushed or out of breath. Facing the gun, a slight chill ran down his spine, but he neither flinched nor dodged.
After staring for a moment, he said softly,
"I don't know much about the law, but I would think a demolition requires the consent of all residents in the area, right?"
"Residents?"
Several of the thugs couldn't help but laugh. Seeing this serious little kid was rather amusing.
"What kind of residents are you? You're a pile of mud at best... Do you know what mud is?"
A thug stepped forward with a steel pipe, slapping it against his palm as he snarled,
"Get lost, now. I'm not interested in beating up a couple of kids."
"Then is it okay for you to attack an old man?" Lu Xuan asked earnestly. "Grandpa Wu is a very good person."
Wu Xiaoxu jumped in fright and quickly tugged on the older boy's sleeve.
"Brother Xuan..."
He looked at the dark, menacing crowd of outsiders, his legs trembling. 'I'm so worried,' he thought.
'Why is Brother Xuan being so reckless? I never noticed it before... No, that's not right. Brother Xuan has always been stubborn.'
'But you have to pick your time and place to be stubborn!'
"You little motherfucker..." The thug's eyes narrowed menacingly. He brandished the steel pipe threateningly. "Keep spouting nonsense and I'll break your legs, too!"
Lu Xuan tilted his head, recalling an old movie he'd seen while watching TV at Wu Xiaoxu's house.
He took a stance, looking the part, and raised his hands slightly into a clumsy posture.
"From the shantytown, Lu Xuan."
The thugs burst into laughter.
"Is this kid nuts? 'From the shantytown, Lu Xuan'..."
"Probably watched too much TV. Shit, was it one of those restored ancient movies they were showing recently? What was it called, *Ip Man*? The Wing Chun one, right?"
"I just watched that with my daughter yesterday. You know, for a movie that's thousands of years old, it's not bad... I wonder if those archaeologists can restore more stuff from the Old Calendar Era."
Perhaps because it was only two kids who had shown up, the men were dismissive and even started joking around.
The scar-faced man, however, was growing impatient. He walked forward, gripping his pistol.
"Go home and sleep, kid. See? All the adults from your shantytown have run away."
He paused, tilting his head in thought for a moment before counting out a thousand dollars from his pocket and holding it out.
"Take it. Use it for that old guy's medical bills. Now, get lost!"
Lu Xuan took the money and carefully put it away. Beside him, Wu Xiaoxu was dumbfounded, his mind reeling.
'Brother Xuan... he really dares!'
"I will give this to Grandpa Wu. But you still can't demolish the cemetery."
The scar-faced man laughed in exasperation.
"You little brat, are you really not afraid?"
"I'm afraid of Sakata Heavy Industries, but I'm not particularly afraid of you," Lu Xuan said honestly. He could sense that these men were weak, so weak that he felt he could take them all down with one hand... even with their ancient gunpowder weapons.
'Besides,' he thought, 'I can also sense that their malice isn't that strong.'
"Fine, fine. Not afraid, huh?" The scar-faced man laughed angrily, then suddenly raised the pistol and aimed it at Lu Xuan's forehead. "How about now? You scared now?"
Wu Xiaoxu's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground. But he quickly scrambled back up, forcing himself to be brave.
"Sir, please, stay calm! We'll leave right now!"
As he spoke, he tugged on Lu Xuan's clothes again, his voice trembling on the verge of tears.
"Brother Xuan, let's go, please..."
Lu Xuan didn't answer. He just stared calmly at the scar-faced man, his gaze as clear as water.
The man felt a sudden, inexplicable unease. He was about to hurl another insult when his vision blurred and the weight in his hand vanished.
"So this is an ancient gunpowder weapon?" Lu Xuan said, toying with the grimy little pistol.
The scar-faced man and the thugs behind him paled in unison. Wu Xiaoxu rubbed his eyes, completely bewildered.
'What just happened?'
'I couldn't see clearly... Brother Xuan is so fast!'
"You..." The scar-faced man was both shocked and furious. He instinctively started to say something, but then he saw the boy give a light squeeze.
The cast-iron pistol was crushed into a lump of scrap metal.
The wide, noisy cemetery suddenly fell silent, save for the incessant, dull roar of the excavator's engine.
"Now, can you leave?" Lu Xuan asked softly.
The scar-faced man and his thugs were frozen in a stupor, none of them answering.
The boy frowned, took a step forward, and calmly swept his gaze over them. Bathed in the moonlight, he stretched his limbs slightly.
CRACK!!
A series of sharp, explosive cracks echoed from within the boy's body, like a sudden clap of spring thunder!
The scar-faced man, the thugs, and even Wu Xiaoxu were all stunned into a daze by this thunderous crack of bone and sinew!
"Tiger and Leopard Thunder Sound... a Cultivator!" The scar-faced man, being the most knowledgeable of the group, felt a cold dread surge from his tailbone up his spine to the crown of his head, making the back of his skull tingle with numbness!
'It's a Cultivator... It's a Cultivator!!'
'How could a Cultivator possibly exist in this mud pit??'
'Tiger and Leopard Thunder Sound... If I remember correctly, that's the clear symbol of a Cultivator who has entered the second stage of the Jade Tower and begun Bone Forging!'
'Is this little kid before me a Great Martial Artist of the second stage, the Bone Forging Realm??'
He shuddered, then decisively bowed his head and lowered his voice in submission.
"Gr-Great Master!"
The other thugs followed his lead one by one, cowering and stammering with trembling voices,
"Great Master!"
In this world, capital reigned supreme, but cultivation reigned above all.
There was an unwritten rule among the common people: upon meeting a Cultivator, one must address them as "Great Master," regardless of their gender or age.
Under the water-clear moonlight, the excavator vibrated at a high frequency, letting out a low, oppressive roar.
Twenty to thirty vicious-looking thugs all stood frozen in place, bowing their heads to the gentle, plainly-dressed boy.
Wu Xiaoxu stared blankly at the scene. Seeing the impeccably clean and handsome Brother Xuan, hearing the repeated cries of "Great Master," he felt as if he were in a dream.