Chapter 630
Weng Haisheng, who robbed the rich to help the poor
"Xiu, should we go back?"
Shen Xue tossed the peeling iron wok around, the vegetables inside sizzling and the pungent fumes from the cheap peanut oil filling her nostrils.
The dampness from the moldy corner, like invisible mold, clings to the skin, sticky and impossible to shake off.
She scraped the bottom of the pot with the spatula, making a harsh noise that seemed to beat out the rhythm of her inner turmoil.
"I'm really out of money!"
She abruptly stopped, turned around, and looked at the wooden figure by the table.
"This lousy place doesn't want people from the mainland anywhere! I've been running around for three or four days, asking every restaurant and clothing store on the street, but as soon as they hear my accent, they won't even give me a trial job!"
Her voice rose, trembling with tears.
"If this continues, we'll starve!"
The room was eerily quiet.
Only the vegetables in the pot were still making a faint sizzling sound.
This rental room is too small.
It's as small as a coffin.
In a space of just a few square meters, a creaking bed, a wooden table that was about to fall apart, and a makeshift stove made of bricks filled the entire area.
The cracks on the wall are interwoven, like the wrinkles on an old man's face.
Several faded posters of Hong Kong stars were pasted on it, yellowed and wrinkled from years of cooking fumes, their edges curled up, struggling to survive.
The only small window faces the wall of the building next door.
We were so close we could see the texture of the bricks on the opposite wall.
The light squeezed in through the narrow gap, weak and dim, barely enough to outline the furniture in the room.
Weng Haisheng was practically lying face down on the table.
His head was bowed low, his eyes fixed on the corner of the table.
There was a crumpled newspaper lying there.
The newspaper had photos of several people printed on it.
Hongye.
Shao Henian.
Wang Zhe.
They are all well-known figures in the martial arts world.
The scar on his face, running diagonally from his forehead to his chin, looked like a lurking centipede, menacingly coiled up in the dim light.
With each rise and fall of his breath, the scar twitched slightly, revealing an indescribable ruthlessness.
Seeing that he didn't react, Shen Xue's anger flared up.
He slammed the spatula into the pot with all his might!
"Bang!"
A few pieces of burnt greens splattered out and landed on the dark stove.
"I'm talking to you, Weng Haisheng!"
She walked a few steps to his side, her voice shrill.
"We really have no money! The rent is due tomorrow! The landlord has already come to collect twice! If we don't pay soon, we'll be evicted! We'll be sleeping on the streets! Do you hear me?"
She reached out and tried to snatch the newspaper.
"You spend all day reading this lousy newspaper! Do you think you can make money from it? Or do you think you can make a living from it?"
The newspaper was being pulled, but Weng Haisheng didn't let go.
Shen Xue was even angrier, pointing at the figure in the newspaper.
"Look at them! Look at these martial arts masters! They can easily defeat someone and get in the newspapers and on TV! They'll become famous! They'll be in the spotlight! They'll make a fortune!"
"They live a life of luxury, living in big houses and driving luxury cars!"
"Look at us now!"
Her voice trembled, and her eyes reddened.
"We live in a pigsty-like rented room! We eat nothing but boiled vegetables! We can't even afford meat! We're getting poorer and poorer! We're dirt poor! Do you understand?"
Complaints, like flies, buzzed around my ears.
The frustration that Weng Haisheng had been forcibly suppressing was finally ignited.
He slammed his hand on the table!
"boom!"
The table legs shook violently, and a chipped, broken bowl on the table bounced twice, almost rolling off and breaking.
"What's all the noise about! Aren't you annoying?!"
He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and frighteningly red.
The scars on his face twisted with anger, his muscles twitching, bringing the "centipede" to life and adding to his menacing appearance.
Shen Xue was startled by his appearance and subconsciously took a step back, the words stuck in her throat.
But despite her resentment and unwillingness, she still glared at him, her lips pressed together until they turned white.
Weng Haisheng was panting heavily, his fingers poking at the newspaper, his nails pressing so hard they almost pierced the paper.
"Something's not right...something's definitely wrong!"
His voice was urgent and harsh, like the low growl of a trapped beast.
"These people... I should have been the one to defeat them! Someone beat me to it!"
His fingertips traced the photos, finally landing heavily on the names next to Hong Ye.
"Look! Apart from Hong Ye, whom I killed, the others—Shao Henian, Wang Zhe, Tan Jingyao…—all died inexplicably before I even planned to challenge them!"
He raised his head and stared at Shen Xue, his eyes filled with a mixture of doubt and ferocity.
"These people, aren't they all top masters in their respective martial arts? Their skills are solid and solid; ordinary people would have a hard time getting close! Who has such great ability to silently take them all down..."
Shen Xue felt uneasy under his gaze, her momentum weakened, and she muttered softly, "So what if he's dead... What does it have to do with us..."
"What's it to us?"
Weng Haisheng chuckled as if he had heard a joke, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"They're dead, so who am I to challenge? How can I make a name for myself if I don't defeat these renowned figures? How can I let the entire martial arts world know me, Weng Haisheng? How..."
He gritted his teeth, but ultimately didn't say the words "make money."
Too tacky.
It doesn't match his obsession with chivalry.
He looked at the newspaper again, his fingers unconsciously tracing Hong Ye's photo.
His brows furrowed deeper and deeper.
"Also... I felt something was wrong when I killed Hong Ye."
His voice lowered, as if he were recalling something, or perhaps analyzing it.
"With his skills, he shouldn't be that weak."
“When we fought, I could feel that he was almost exhausted and still had old injuries. He didn’t even use half of his strength.”
"otherwise……"
His eyes turned cold.
"It's not going to be that easy for me."
The room fell silent again.
Only the faint sound of mahjong tiles emanating from some distant house in the fortified village accentuated the deathly silence of this small place.
A while later.
Weng Haisheng's eyes suddenly lit up.
"I see!"
His tone became very certain, even carrying a sense of sudden enlightenment and excitement.
"There must be a master! A super master! Who has been operating in the shadows all along!"
"He's hunting down these scum of the martial arts world! He beat me to it! He wiped them all out! That's why I didn't have a chance to challenge them! No chance..."
He paused, and didn't continue.
There was no chance to gain fame and everything that fame might bring by defeating them.
Seeing that his expression had softened and he was no longer as frightening as before, Shen Xue breathed a slight sigh of relief.
She leaned closer, looking at the handsome martial arts star photo of Hong Ye in the newspaper, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Scoundrels? You're calling them scum?"
She pointed at Hong Ye.
"Isn't this Hung Yip a very famous martial arts star from Hong Kong? I often saw him on TV when I was in mainland China. He's handsome, good at kung fu, and often does charity work... He's always surrounded by lots of young girls and is very popular."
She shook her head.
"I've never heard of him having any scandals, nor have I heard of him doing anything bad. How did he become a scoundrel?"
Upon hearing this, Weng Haisheng's lips slowly curled into a smile.
He pulled out a strange and ferocious smile.
The smile, coupled with the long scar on his face, looked particularly eerie under the dim light.
"A scandal? Doing bad things?"
His voice carried a mocking coldness.
"What do you know?"
"There isn't a single good man in this world. If you're a man, you have to eat fish."
His eyes darted around for a moment, as if he had thought of something, then quickly focused again, becoming even colder.
"Especially for those of us who practice martial arts. We have so much strength we don't know where to use it, and our energy is much more vigorous than ordinary people. Once we break our vows and get tainted by lust..."
He paused, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.
"That desire is like a drug addiction. Once it strikes, it's completely uncontrollable. It's more potent than any poison."
Shen Xue felt uneasy under his gaze and shrank her shoulders.
Weng Haisheng recalled what happened that night.
Killing Hong Ye wasn't the first stop in the plan, but it was the easiest. Because Hong Ye was so famous, it was easy to find out where he lived.
He sneaked into the luxury apartment, and the encounter went much more smoothly than he had expected.
Hong Ye's punches and kicks were weak and feeble, his breathing was disordered, and he carried a strange, cloying perfume scent.
After resolving the issue, he did not leave immediately.
For some inexplicable reason, I wandered around the apartment.
"After killing Hong Ye, I went to his house."
His voice was flat and monotone, as if he were talking about someone else.
"Guess what I found in his bedroom closet?"
Shen Xue looked at him but didn't reply.
"Many women's clothes. All kinds. Sexy, innocent. None of them are his wife's size."
"There are also some cosmetics and jewelry, all for women."
He twitched the corner of his mouth.
"It's obvious at a glance that he often brings different women home."
“I’m sure,” he added, his eyes certain, “there’s definitely more shady stuff on his computer. Maybe videos and photos of him with those women. I just didn’t have time to look at them then, because I was afraid someone would come, so I left quickly.”
He looked at Shen Xue, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt.
"That's the kind of person he is. On the surface, he looks respectable and glamorous. But behind the scenes, he does all sorts of despicable things."
"If not a scoundrel, then what is he?"
After listening, Shen Xue remained silent for a few seconds.
Then, she glanced at him.
That look in his eyes was complex, a mix of sarcasm, helplessness, and something else entirely.
"how about you?"
Her voice was soft.
"You also practice martial arts. You... have absolutely no desires? You're cleaner than them?"
Weng Haisheng's expression turned cold at a visible speed.
"I'm different."
“I’m not like those scoundrels.”
He stared at Shen Xue, speaking slowly and deliberately.
"In my whole life, I've only been obsessed with martial arts. I have absolutely no interest in women. Not even a little bit."
Shen Xue felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and looked away.
Weng Haisheng, however, seemed to be trying to prove something, and his tone became even more intense.
"Over the years, you know how many times I've slept with you. Every single time, wasn't it you who initiated it?"
"I have never contacted you first. Nor have I contacted any other women."
"You know this in your heart."
Shen Xue's face flushed red.
It was a mixture of shame and embarrassment.
She opened her mouth, wanting to refute, but found herself speechless.
He was telling the truth.
Those rare, almost countable moments of intimacy only occurred after she pleaded or tested the waters in near despair.
He was always very impatient, finishing quickly and then immediately getting up to either take a shower or continue practicing his boxing against the air.
It was as if I had just completed a disgusting task.
The grievances and resentment in her heart were stirred up again, mixed with the embarrassment from before, and stuck in her chest.
She looked at the man in front of her.
This face, scarred and bruised, looks fierce and unfamiliar.
In a daze, I saw again the honest and simple young man who had studied martial arts under Wang Haisheng many years ago.
At that time, Weng Haisheng was introverted and didn't like to talk.
Because of his poor background and lack of connections, he was always bullied by disciples from wealthy families who were also skilled in martial arts within his sect.
Don't fight back when hit, don't talk back when insulted.
Like a silent punching bag.
She met him around that time.
Who would have thought?
In just a few short years.
Weng Haisheng, who used to be a doormat, is gone.
Instead, what I saw before me was a man who was irritable, obsessive, ruthless, whose eyes were only on martial arts training and challenges, and who had almost no human feelings.
Shen Xue knew it in her heart.
All of this comes from the word "martial arts".
Practicing martial arts made him strong, hardened his fists, straightened his spine, and made him no longer subject to bullying.
But it was also a double-edged sword, cutting away the soft parts of him.
It made him cold and paranoid, like a stone that had been worn down to its sharp edges.
He lost that honest and simple Weng Haisheng little by little.
"Ugh……"
Shen Xue sighed again.
The sigh was long and drawn out, carrying a deep weariness and helplessness.
“I know you’re different from them.”
Her voice softened, and her forced composure completely dissipated, leaving only pleading.
"But it's different, so what can we do?"
She walked to Weng Haisheng's side, but this time she didn't dare to pull his arm. She just stood very close to him, her voice low and tinged with tears.
“We can’t even afford to eat now. We can’t pay the rent either. We’ll be evicted in another day.”
"I can't find a job in Hong Kong. Nobody wants people from the mainland. What can I do?"
Looking at his expressionless profile, she felt a pang of sadness.
“You practice martial arts, and you eat a lot every day. One meal of yours is equivalent to two of mine. We’re almost out of rice now, so it’s not enough for you at all.”
“Weng Haisheng…”
She called his name, her voice as soft as a feather.
"Let me tell you something from the bottom of my heart. I'm not following you because I want to enjoy any kind of life, not because I want to live in a big house or drive a luxury car... At least, I can eat my fill and stay warm, and I won't have to live this kind of life of wandering and hunger, right?"
"But look at the life we're living now, what kind of life are we living?"
Her tears finally fell silently, sliding down her cheeks.
"Isn't this an insult?"
Weng Haisheng listened to her words.
Those words, like fine needles, pierced the most restless and uneasy parts of his heart.
No money.
eat.
rent.
Sleeping on the street.
Every word he used seemed completely out of place with his dream of being a "knight-errant."
A chivalrous knight should live on the wind and dew, live a life of righteous indignation and revenge, and regard money as dirt.
But now, even dung could kill him.
bother.
An indescribable annoyance.
It felt like countless ants were crawling inside the cracks of my bones.
He abruptly shook off the jumbled thoughts in his mind, as if trying to get rid of something dirty.
"Alright, alright!"
He stood up, his movement so abrupt that the broken chair screeched as it did so.
"Stop talking nonsense! It's so annoying!"
He grabbed the faded, worn-out old coat draped over the back of the chair and haphazardly put it on.
The sound of fabric rubbing together was exceptionally clear in the silence.
He turned and walked towards the door.
He stopped when he reached the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.
He didn't turn around.
With his back to Shen Xue, his shoulders were tense.
Then he roared, his voice exploding in the confined space:
"I'll go make money for you!"
"I refuse to believe it! With all these skills I have, how could I not make money? How could I let you suffer with me!"
Done.
He turned the doorknob.
"Bang!"
Outside the door was an even darker corridor deep within the walled city, where no light could be seen.
His figure quickly disappeared into the darkness. (End of Chapter)