Chapter 52: A life of misery, a sigh
“You think you were right? You think your master and sister disciple are grateful in heaven?” Mu Yi said to the hoodlum suddenly.
The hoodlum suddenly looked ferociously at Mu Yi. He felt like Mu Yi was criticizing his actions.
“I mean, after you killed the warrior, you probably took his head back and held a memorial ceremony for them, right?” Mu Yi continued.
“Indeed. Do you think I was wrong? He killed my master and fellow disciples. He had to die,” the hoodlum said.
“Indeed, he had to die, but shouldn’t you die too? You killed the waitress and her boss, right? She only insulted you, and you killed her? What about the boss? He saw you kill someone, so you killed him too? Since the warrior had to die for your master and fellow disciples, what about them? Who avenged their death?” Mu Yi said.
“Besides, you killed so many of the warrior’s family members. They also had other relatives, so isn’t that a tragedy for them? How can you still think you deserve to be alive? Who will avenge them?” Mu Yi said. He looked angrier and angrier as he spoke.
Mu Yi had never said that he was a good person. He had deceived people and stolen from them, but he had never hurt innocent people.
He had never vented his anger on innocent people.
Some good men did avenge their loved ones, and that was normal. However, there were rules.
The hoodlum had killed innocent people in horrific way, and he had turned into an evil, brutal, violent demon. He had completely lost his senses. Mu Yi didn’t care about such people because they deserved much worse than death.
Unfortunately, back then, nobody was able to kill him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have be alive to continue killing.
“Do you know that you really sound like someone right now?” the hoodlum said to Mu Yi, who was trying to teach him a lesson.
“Who?” Mu Yi asked.
“My fellow disciple. Back then, he was just like you. He kept judging me and said that he had to control himself not to try killing,” the hoodlum continued.
“Hmph, good that I am not your fellow disciple. Otherwise, I would have killed you already. At least, you wouldn’t have been able to kill anyone else,” Mu Yi said aggressively.
“Hehe, do you know my fellow disciple did attack me back then? But he didn’t want to kill me. He wanted to cripple my cultivation and prevent me from killing more people. But in the end, he didn’t manage to do it because I knew his intentions. At the crucial moment, he decided to be merciful and let me escape,” the hoodlum said mockingly.
But was he mocking himself or his fellow disciple?
“So you came here and continued killing people?” Mu Yi continued asking.
“How do you know I continued killing people? Because of him?” Mu lowered his head and looked at Song Qing, who was in his arms. He suddenly smiled evilly and shook his hands.
A popping filled the air, and Song Qing suddenly collapsed. His skin suddenly looked empty as if there had never been anything under that skin.
“So you didn’t?” Mu Yi asked.
“Actually, I have killed many people, but I can tell you that all these people had committed crimes and I was the one who punished them for their crimes,” the hoodlum said.
It seemed like he was trying to find excuses. He was convincing himself that he had done the right thing.
Changing his image of himself from a cruel and violent murderer to a hero of justice?
Mu Yi looked at him mockingly.
“What about you? Shouldn’t you be punished for your crimes?” Mu Yi asked while staring at the hoodlum.
“Hehe, good and evil depend on perspective, but all in all, there will always be someone who will want justice for the dead. Do you know who told me that?” the hoodlum asked while staring at Mu Yi.
“Your fellow disciple?” Mu Yi asked.
“No, the warrior I killed. He only had one breath left and told me that. Now, he can only wait for me in hell,” the hoodlum said while laughing.
“I think he was right. You should be punished,” Mu Yi said straightforwardly.
Initially, he hadn’t intended to let the hoodlum off, but he hadn’t killed him directly because he wanted to know why he was acting so strangely. After hearing the story, nobody could prevent him from killing the hoodlum.
Mu Yi didn’t feel like a hero of justice; he just felt like the hoodlum deserved to die.
“Alright, kill me then. I don’t want to live anyway. If I die, I’ll see my master and his daughter again,” the hoodlum said while standing up.
Mu Yi ignored him and Nian Nuer suddenly appeared in front of Mu Yi.
“You committed so many crimes, and you’ll definitely end up in the lowest depths of Hell: the eighteenth hell. How could you see your master and his daughter?” Mu Yi said disdainfully.
“Hehe, the lowest depths of Hell: the eighteenth hell? Even if it’s true, I’ll just escape and travel to where my master is. So what?” the hoodlum said while laughing. Then, he raised his head and looked at the sky.
“Alright, do you have anything else to say?” Mu Yi asked the hoodlum.
“If you help me with something, I’ll tell you something about Li the Cripple for free,” the hoodlum said suddenly.
“Li the Cripple? What about him?” Mu Yi asked quickly, confused.
Mu Yi really wanted to know more about Li the Cripple because the old Taoist Priest had turned into a zombie and disappeared because of him. Even though the hoodlum had told him some information, it was too vague, so Mu Yi would need time to find him and avenge his master.
So when Mu Yi heard the hoodlum, he asked for information on Li the Cripple immediately, forgetting to ask about the conditions.
“Easy. Go to Cangzhou and take this stone plate with you. Find my fellow disciple, and you’ll also be able to find the answers you are looking for,” the hoodlum said, taking out a pitch-black stone plate. There was the image of a paper man and letters carved on the plate.
“Cangzhou? Papercutting? Is your fellow disciple called Sir Mo?” when Mu Yi heard Cangzhou, it sounded familiar, so he was able to make a quick judgement based on inadequate information.
The old Taoist Priest had taken him to Cangzhou in the past. They had gone to see a good friend of his, and he was also an expert at papercutting techniques.
Mu Yi realized why he had immediately had a familiar impression the first time he saw the hoodlum. He had seen Sir Mo’s level in papercutting, it seemed like he was the hoodlum’s fellow disciple. Sir Mo was in a wheelchair.
“Oh, you know my fellow disciple?” the hoodlum asked, stupefied.
“I’ve met him. His papercutting skills are astonishing. He’s just as talented as you in papercutting,” Mu Yi said honestly.
“Many years have passed, so he must have caught up with me. No, he has probably surpassed me now. Now, take that plate and give it to him. It should be his,” the hoodlum said while giving the plate to Mu Yi. He then said, “In Cangzhou, there’s a building, Tingyu Building, that is named after Leng Yu. She will definitely have information regarding Li the Cripple.”
After that, the hoodlum ignored Mu Yi, and he looked as if he was in a trance. He suddenly whispered, “Heavenly Curse, people’s misfortune, life and death, salvation, Master, sister, I’m coming.”
After that, he didn’t give Mu Yi an opportunity to kill him. He raised his hand, and a dagger appeared which he plunged into his heart.
He was smiling, and his eyes were filled with remorse as his body collapsed.
The hoodlum was dead. His heart had been pierced, leaving only a lifeless body on the ground. As he drew his last breath the blade turned back to paper.