Chapter 15 Blind Man Bei Assigns Tasks

Xiazi Bei had assigned tasks to practically everyone, which fit his image perfectly. Throughout history, in many works of art, fortune-tellers and strategists were often depicted as blind.

It's just that the strategist profession was more competitive, with fewer positions available, so there were more blind fortune-tellers.

These things weren't really shown in A Qiu's comics. In A Qiu's comics, he was a demon who set up his own court and proclaimed himself a personification of justice.

However, people aren't just paper figures, they can't just have two sides. So, in this world, when everyone was freed from the constraints of the comics, the characters became more vivid.

Next, everyone began their preparations.

Feng Siniang first instructed a few shop assistants in the inn to go outside and spread the word that she, this old lady, was going to personally receive guests, giving off the feeling of a certain small star from a certain island country suddenly announcing that she was going to start filming adult films.

Xue San squatted by the well in the courtyard, with a whetstone in front of him, and began to sharpen his knife.

But he was sharpening a small dagger and small pliers, probably standard equipment for a cat burglar.

Zheng Fan walked over curiously, squatted beside him, and asked:

"Where's your sword?"

Zheng Fan remembered that in the comics, Xue San's image was one of a large iron sword slung across his back, perhaps because the author, Qin Siyu, really liked this kind of contrasting cuteness.

Xue San sharpened his knife while looking up and smiling at Zheng Fan, answering:

"Reporting to you, Master, it's gone."

"Gone?"

"When we came to this world, besides the clothes we were wearing, everything else was gone."

Zheng Fan nodded, so that's how it was.

Immediately, he felt a little regretful. The things these people originally held in the comics, if lost in reality, should be considered artifacts.

"Master can go to the front hall to sit and have some tea or wine. After tonight, we can report to you what this world is like."

"Thank you all for your hard work."

Zheng Fan didn't go to the front hall. To be honest, he was a little afraid to face the unknown. Sitting in the front hall, waiting for the guests to come in the afternoon, looking at the guests dressed so differently from modern people, this sense of the unknown could make it difficult to breathe.

But he couldn't help but want to explore this unknown.

Maybe he just hadn't gotten used to it yet, like a normal person watching a horror movie, enjoying the pain.

Zheng Fan returned to his room, lay on the bed, everyone outside was busy, preparing. Zheng Fan took a nap.

This nap was much longer than expected. When he woke up, he found it was already dark outside.

"I really can sleep."

Zheng Fan mocked himself helplessly.

Actually, Zheng Fan was also thinking about seeing if he could help in any way, otherwise, he'd be embarrassed being called "Master" by them.

But Zheng Fan knew that he didn't seem to be able to help, and if he forced himself to help, he might even cause trouble.

Perhaps, him staying in the room and sleeping soundly, letting them treat him as a mascot, would make them happier.

Leaving the room and entering the courtyard, he happened to see A Ming again.

A Ming was standing in the shadows at the entrance of the wine cellar, holding what looked like a small file, as if he was trimming his nails.

Sensing Zheng Fan approaching, A Ming looked up at Zheng Fan and said:

"Master, Fan Li went to the desert with a barbarian tribe's trade caravan this afternoon. Xue San has already gone to stake out the area. Xiazi went to seduce that city patrol captain's wife this afternoon and hasn't returned yet."

A Ming continued to cut his nails as he spoke.

"Mm."

Zheng Fan responded, then hesitated for a moment and asked:

"Is there anything I can help with?"

A Ming paused, his eyes seeming to have a deep meaning, and said:

"Actually, Master, you've already been a great help."

Zheng Fan was speechless. He thought A Ming meant that him not causing trouble was already helping.

Unexpectedly, A Ming continued:

"The auction over there is over, but there's some trouble."

"What trouble?"

"The person who bid the highest paid a little too much."

"So………"

Zheng Fan never doubted Feng Siniang's charm. Men have different tastes; some like petite women, some like big women, some like those who coo, and some like those who whimper.

But Feng Siniang, as a perfect mature woman imagined by Qin Siyao, her every frown and smile had an absolutely huge attraction.

There was a very effective way to tell if a man was lustful: put your index finger between a man's upper lip and nose. If there's breath, it proves he's lustful.

"That person has a follower who is more like a bodyguard than a follower.

This young master came to Tiger Head City a few days ago. He took two women from the brothel in the east of the city into the inn, but the two women were carried out of the inn. One is still alive, and the other has died.

He paid the brothel some money, so the brothel didn't cause any trouble."

According to the previous arrangement, Feng Siniang's opening her doors this time was to catch a big fish, with the aim of extracting this world's "worldview" from the fish's mouth.

Then, to be on the safe side, this fish definitely had to be disposed of. After the "worldview" was shared, Liang Cheng or A Ming would put on the big fish's clothes and swagger out of the inn as if they had "finished the deed," clearing the inn of suspicion.

Originally, they only needed to target the big fish, and men...

But the sudden addition of a guard follower added a lot of variables. Plus, A Ming said that this person's bid was the highest, crushing everyone else. The richer and more influential the person, the stronger his followers and guards might be.

It's possible to mess up if playing with the magic people.

"Why don't we use poison?" Zheng Fan suggested.

"I've observed it. After entering the inn, the follower has been sitting next to his master the whole time, but he hasn't drunk any wine or eaten anything."

This kind of follower would require himself to stay awake at all times, so it was even more difficult to deal with.

Especially when Zheng Fan's demon kings were still ordinary people.

"If the target is too tough, then give up."

Zheng Fan didn't want them to suffer any losses.

A Ming smiled, his teeth very white, and shook his head, saying:

"The more powerful the follower is, the more it proves that the master knows more things. It's more valuable for us to attack him. Besides, Siniang has already accepted the money. It's impossible to really let Siniang sleep with him."

"That's true."

"Master, if you want to help, you can help me carry this jar of wine to the front hall. By the time you get there, it should be about time."

"Oh, okay."

Zheng Fan's eyes swept the ground and saw a small wine jar. He immediately bent down and picked it up.

"So heavy………"

"It's filled with incense ash."

"Is this thing for sneak attacks?"

"Yes. Master, just aim at the guard and smash it. Leave the rest to Liang Cheng and me."

"Okay, okay."

Zheng Fan nodded vigorously.

"Master, go first. Liang Cheng is waiting at the front hall staircase."

"What about you?"

A Ming pointed to the south side of the courtyard, where there was a ladder leading directly to the second floor of the front hall.

"I'll go into Siniang's room first from the ladder and help Siniang control the big fish. The guard is guarding the outer room. When you guys take action, I'll sneak attack him from behind."

"Okay."

Although in the comic story, Zheng Fan had "killed countless people," "covered in blood," and was "full of sin," to be honest, he was just a keyboard warrior. Well, maybe he had a little more imagination than the average keyboard warrior.

He had never even killed a chicken, and killing someone... uh... he had actually killed someone, he had killed himself.

Zheng Fan carried the small wine jar into the front hall. Liang Cheng was indeed standing and waiting at the staircase. When he saw Zheng Fan walking over carrying the wine jar, Liang Cheng seemed a little surprised, and in addition to the surprise, there was some anger.

"Who let you come, Master, A Ming?"

"I asked to come myself," Zheng Fan replied.

Liang Cheng frowned. It was obvious that he was very dissatisfied.

Zheng Fan was a little uneasy and could only continue: "I'll do as you say. After I smash the incense ash, I'll run."

He felt that Liang Cheng thought he was useless and only a hindrance, so he was dissatisfied.

But Liang Cheng's next cold words surprised Zheng Fan:

"Master's safety is of utmost importance."

Was he... worried about me?

"I'll run after I smash it. Nothing will happen. Besides, you guys are there."

Seeming to see that Zheng Fan was still insisting, Liang Cheng nodded helplessly, indicating his agreement.

Then, he turned and walked upstairs.

Zheng Fan naturally followed, carrying the wine jar. Actually, Zheng Fan still felt that this operation was a bit too radical.

Fan Li following the trade caravan to the desert to open up the barbarian perspective, Xue San going to the government to steal documents and letters, and Xiazi Bei seducing the general's wife, shouldn't these have been enough?

But the inn was planning to obtain information directly by eliminating the target. It would be good if they succeeded, but what if they failed?

However, Zheng Fan could understand that these guys were originally monsters who killed people without blinking an eye, even taking pleasure in torture, from comics. When they did things, they really only focused on the results, not caring about the process and means.

Normal people did things when they were strong enough, while madmen did things before they were even strong enough!

And now that the operation had already begun, the arrow was on the string, there was no time to think about anything else. Feng Siniang had already welcomed the guest into her boudoir...

…………

In the courtyard,

After Zheng Fan entered the front hall,

A Ming stood at the entrance of the wine cellar for a while longer.

Yes, he was still holding that small file in his hand, but not to trim his nails as Zheng Fan had thought.

Rather,

He repeatedly stabbed the tip of the file into his palm.

"Pfft!"

"Pfft!"

"Pfft!"

Wounds were stabbed out one by one,

And then,

The wounds healed quickly, one by one, at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Finally, A Ming stopped his continuous self-mutilation, looked up, and gazed at the not-so-bright moon tonight.

He smiled.