Two days had passed since the incident at Duyin Market. The three unfortunate warriors still lay sprawled in a shabby inn. Their cheeks were still red—not from embarrassment, but from the deadly slaps they had received from the so-called "mystic farmer."
They curled under thin blankets, faces covered with cold leaf compresses. The inn's air was stuffy, and the only sounds were their endless groans.
> "Damn it… that wasn't a slap. That was a self-esteem obliteration technique!"
> "We're warriors! How could we be humiliated like that in public?!"
Their leader, Tang Wu—the oldest, the loudest, and the quickest to flare up—suddenly stood with fists clenched in fiery resolve.
> "We must have our revenge! The Three Pathetic Warriors… SHALL RISE AGAIN!"
His two comrades glanced at each other, then nodded slowly. Whether out of spirit… or sheer cluelessness, who could tell.
The next day – Jian Mo's field
Jian Mo was calmly tilling the soil. Beside him, Su Daji sat on the ground, drawing his father's face on a cornstalk with charcoal, occasionally biting into a steamed yam.
When everything seemed peaceful…
> "WICKED FARMER!!"
Three shadows burst out of the bushes, landing in front of Jian Mo with dramatic flair like villainous extras from a cheap martial arts drama. They even brought tiny fireworks that popped and fizzed—where they got them, no one knows.
Jian Mo stared blankly.
> "Oh, it's you guys again. Should I bury you now or later?"
> "WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE!!"
The trio attacked in unison.
> WHUMP! THUD! SMACK!
One second later, all three were airborne, landing in the duck pond behind the field. A duck calmly perched atop Tang Wu's head, as if crowning him the King of the Marsh.
Soaked and covered in algae, Tang Wu slowly got up, tears welling in his eyes. He knelt before Jian Mo.
> "Please… make me your servant! I can cook, clean, wash clothes… even make fried ice cream!"
Jian Mo sighed deeply.
> "I'm no longer a warrior. I'm a farmer."
> "Master! I'm willing to be your humble servant! For the honor of our clan… and for warm rice every morning!"
A few days later – Jian Mo's hut
Tang Wu actually came by every day. He brought a broom, soap, and even a live chicken. Jian Mo had kicked him out countless times, but like weeds in fertile soil, Tang Wu always came back.
> "If you show up again tomorrow, I'll plant you in the field."
> "Yes, Master! I shall grow strong and tall!"
That night…
Tang Wu prepared dinner. The table was filled with warm soup, grilled fish, and pudding shaped like Jian Mo's face.
Su Daji smiled happily and said:
> "Dad! I like our new servant!"
> "He's not a servant… he's a pest that won't go away."
Tang Wu entered wearing a floral apron, full of enthusiasm.
> "Master, your bath is ready. Warm. Scented with lime and unresolved trauma."
Meanwhile – in the world of Murim
Far away, six Sky Warriors were investigating the ruins of a destroyed village.
> "This… these are the traces of the Dark Blood organization," one said gravely.
> "What's Dark Blood?" another asked.
> "A dark cult. They believe in one thing: the resurrection of the long-lost Lord of Murim…"
Silence fell. The air grew heavier.
> "We must report to the Grand Master at once!"
Three warriors came seeking revenge… and ended up scrubbing floors.
Jian Mo just wants a peaceful life, but his past won't let him go.
And Tang Wu's fried rice… is surprisingly delicious.
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