Big Data Cultivation

Chapter 137: What’s the Worth

The speaker was none other than Feng Jun.

He looked over at Feifei’s injuries, and although he was not very knowledgeable about such matters, he knew she was badly hurt.

Standing up from the ground, he glared at the opposing party, “A little girl, you’ve beaten her to such a state, how cruel and heartless!”

Having heard that the girl was employed by someone collecting stones, Elder Zhao was stunned and, more critically, frightened by the unmasked killing intent in the other’s words.

He really wanted to argue that even if she was employed by you, she was just an orphan with no backing; punishing her a little, did that warrant such murderous rage from you?

Being an orphan was a sin in itself, even in the Zhao Family fortress, orphans who had lost their parents were seen as inferior to other members of the Zhao Family—this consideration was given only because they were still members of the Zhao Family. The saying “a child without a mother is like a blade of grass” couldn’t be more true.

However, even if Elder Zhao had many grievances, he dared not speak up anymore.

When an intermediate-level martial master speaks of wanting to kill, it’s generally best not to disregard the threat.

As he was conflicted, Deng Lao Er finally caught up with the martial artist who had fled, swinging his sword and shaving off half of the man’s hair along with a palm-sized piece of bloodied scalp, even though the latter was quick to dodge.

This was a direct attempt at murder! The martial artist, terrified out of his wits and suddenly finding strength from who knows where, sped up and rushed forward, shouting loudly, “I was wrong, I know I was wrong, I am willing to compensate… I’m willing to compensate~~”

Deng Lao Er had originally been eager to kill the man, but seeing him suffer such a blow with blood streaming down his forehead, suddenly felt the anger in his heart dissipate—adolescent rage often flares up quickly and fades just as fast.

In fact, he had never killed anyone before. He often dreamed of the saying, “Kill one man in ten steps, leave no trace’ in a thousand miles.” He envied the life of swift retribution and passionate enmities, which was the dream of every young martial artist venturing out for the first time.

But facing such a situation, he couldn’t help but be merciful. The other person seemed… perhaps not deserving of death?

Of course, he couldn’t just let the man off so easily. Instead, he chased after him while loudly asking, “Feifei, do you want his life, or his compensation?”

After all, part of being a chivalrous hero meant considering the feelings of the person involved.

At that moment, Feifei’s complexion was still pale, but her eyes had regained their sparkle. Hearing the question, she answered loudly, “Young master Deng, if you don’t have to kill… it’s better not to.”

Hearing this, Deng Lao Er finally stopped his pursuit, panting heavily as he shouted, “Consider yourself lucky, kid… Now tell me, how do you plan to compensate?”

“I’ll give ten silver coins,” the man who had been shouting continued running for over a hundred meters, stopping only then, gasping for air while circling back toward the people from the Zhao Family fortress. “That kick of mine wasn’t very strong, and since I’m not holding a grudge over your sword cut, I won’t fuss over it.”

If he had a choice, he definitely wouldn’t offer such humiliating terms, but he had noticed that even Elder Zhao was frightened by the sudden appearance of an intermediate-level martial master, so he had no choice but to suffer in silence.

Indeed, it was a miscalculation on their part, underestimating the opponent, thinking that with just one martial master, Elder Zhao leading over twenty skilled Zhao Family members would be enough to overpower the opposition—at least enough to prevent them from starting a fight.

But one mistake led to another, and now he could only silently complain: why didn’t they summon the full might of the village to force these four into submission?

The Zhao Family village wasn’t big, holding over a thousand people, and besides the five or six hundred tenant farmers, there were nearly eight hundred Zhao Family members. If they made a concerted effort, they could gather around a hundred strong and able-bodied martial artists.

If all the combat strength were mobilized, what difference would it make if another intermediate-level martial master appeared on the other side?

Upon hearing the man’s offer, Deng Lao Er’s eyebrows rose slightly, feeling that the condition, although not great, showed some sincerity.

Ten silver coins were nearly equivalent to two months’ income for an escort master, and a little girl of Feifei’s age, even if abducted, would at most fetch this price.

It was just the way it was, children had no rights, let alone an orphan. And that was considering Feifei was rather pretty; had she been the slightest bit uglier, whether she could sell for even five silver coins was debatable.

He found the terms acceptable, and Feifei was also quite tempted. To her, what did suffering a little matter if she could earn money?

However, just as they started showing some interest, Feng Jun snorted coldly, “Is your life only worth ten silver coins?”

The “life” he referred to was of course, that of the Zhao Family martial artist—We’re not taking your life, and you only offer ten silver coins to buy it?

On hearing this, the martial artist’s face darkened: Who does business like this?

Of course, Feng Jun wasn’t wrong to think that way. When Deng Lao Er heard it, his eyes shone, and he shouted, “Indeed, you are now paying to save your own life… Make a sincere offer.”

The martial artist felt helpless and turned to Elder Zhao, “Uncle Zhao, what do you think?”

Where did Elder Zhao dare to say anything? He feared even more that the other party would take his anger out and kill. He could only sigh and shake his head—you better think about how much your life is really worth.

How much his life was worth… The martial artist was also in a quandary. He certainly believed his life was valuable, but when it came to paying ransom, the price couldn’t be set too high.

After a long silence, he finally spoke up, “Five…thirty silver yuan, any more than that, and you might as well just kill me.”

“Heh,” Deng Lao Er couldn’t help but laugh in anger, “A laborer like you, if sold to the mines, is worth at least fifty silver yuan, believe it or not?”

Young laborers who were also intermediate-level martial artists were definitely worth that much.

Selling people to private mines was illegal on this plane, and the Xiongfeng Escort Bureau needed to maintain its reputation; they usually didn’t engage in such trade, but they had the connections through year-round dealings with various white, black, and gray forces.

However, this martial artist was also quite stubborn, “This is all the money I have, I don’t have any more. If you don’t agree, then just sell me.”

In his heart, he was certain that they wouldn’t actually sell him to a private mine—after all, that would be an illegal act, and everyone surrounding them were members of the Zhao clan; unless they were prepared to silence everyone present, they couldn’t go through with it.

Upon hearing these words, Deng Lao Er also felt a headache coming on. Although young, he understood the importance of silencing—was it worth all this trouble for a mere twenty silver yuan difference?

Besides, he wasn’t sure whether they could take down everyone on the other side. Normally, it wouldn’t be possible. While the other side had more than twenty people who probably couldn’t defeat their group of four, if they decided to scatter and flee, it would be difficult to annihilate all of them.

As he hesitated, Feng Jun spoke, “Then let it be thirty silver yuan. Bring it out, and then we’ll let you leave.”

“How could I possibly carry that much silver yuan on me?” the intermediate-level martial artist cried out, “I need to go back and gather the money.”

No sooner had his words fallen than a figure flashed before them, and Lang Zhen appeared in front of him, delivering a slap with a flick of his wrist and speaking sharply, “How dare you talk to a martial master like that? And to question him… just answer obediently!”

Respecting martial masters was a common understanding in this plane, of course. While not enforced, in the real society, people generally wouldn’t disrespect an office director without cause.

The slap was not light; the man spun around before steadying himself.

He covered his cheek, shook his head to clear it, and then responded, “Yes… I was wrong, but I truly don’t have that much silver yuan.”

His words were respectful, but perhaps because he was accustomed to being domineering, he couldn’t fully hide the fury in his eyes.

“Damn, are you seeking death?” Deng Lao Er erupted in anger, “Taking advantage but still playing dumb… then stay here until someone from Zhao Family Fortress brings money to ransom you!”

The intermediate-level martial artist stayed silent, his gaze indifferent—if he didn’t die now, once his family members returned to their village and came back here, it wasn’t certain who would have the upper hand.

“There’s no need for such trouble,” Feng Jun interjected from the side, “Those three rocks, let’s count them as thirty silver yuan.”

“How is that possible,” someone called out loudly, “Even if they aren’t worth two hundred silver yuan, you all offered eighty silver yuan for them, how can they just count as thirty?”

Feng Jun gave him a cold look, “Then let’s just make it twenty silver yuan…”

The person was stunned, not expecting their protest to lead to the other party intensifying their demands.

“Not selling for eighty but insisting on twenty, isn’t that stupid?” Lang Zhen snorted contemptuously, “And you, and you, and you… leave your weapons behind as ten silver yuan.”

This was outright tyranny, but Lone Wolf didn’t feel any discomfort. Those who had been escorts, whether they had a sense of justice was debatable, but certainly, they weren’t moralists—those who were soft-hearted would have long been dead.

Faced with such extortion, the people of Zhao Family Fortress had no choice but to accept it grudgingly, as they simply couldn’t win in a fight.

The three rocks had originally been discarded here; now they were just formally taken by the other party. However, the four weapons that Lang Zhen pointed out were worth far more than ten silver yuan, probably close to twenty.

So, the people of Zhao Family Fortress decided to pool their money. They had come to extort and didn’t bring much, so even after gathering funds from over twenty people, they barely scratched together five silver yuan.

Lang Zhen pointed at Elder Zhao decisively, “You, take off that piece of black iron on your waist and hand it over!”

His eyesight was exceptional, knowing that the value of this piece of black iron exceeded five silver yuan, and if forged into a weapon, its value could triple or quadruple.

This time, however, Elder Zhao complied without hesitation, quickly unbuckling the black iron, leaving with a dark face and his people in tow.

After walking for four or five li, he clenched his teeth and vowed fiercely, “If I don’t avenge this, I swear I’m not a man!”

Someone tentatively asked, “Should we notify Big Brother?”

Big Brother was a martial master serving in the Xiyin City army and his cultivation level was nearly that of an intermediate-level martial master. He was a rising star of Zhao Family Fortress.

(Updated here. If nothing unexpected happens, Feng Xiao should return today, of course, if he doesn’t make it back, remember I was once young… no, that’s wrong, remember to summon me with your monthly votes.)