SWORD OF THE DEMON WOLF

That evening, just before nightfall at the edge of the forest outside the village of Qincheng, a young man of average build, with brown skin, shoulder-length hair, and a slightly slender face but firm jaw, was walking while carrying a bundle of firewood on his shoulder. Suddenly, a loud, directed shout startled him.

"Where have you been, Xiao Chen? Don’t you know I’ve been looking for you all this time?" barked a tall, broad-shouldered young man with sharp facial features.

He was Lu Han, the son of the wealthiest merchant in Qincheng. On his right and left stood three other young men around his age, grinning wickedly as they watched what Lu Han was about to do.

Before Xiao Chen could even answer Lu Han’s question, a punch followed by a kick landed hard on his body.

Thud! Crack!

Xiao Chen fell face-first into the dirt. The bundle of firewood on his shoulder scattered in all directions. Some of the firewood he had gathered since noon even landed on his own body.

Not satisfied, Lu Han pointed at Xiao Chen with a furious look. "Get that loser back on his feet! I’m not done beating him yet!" he shouted commandingly.

Two of Lu Han’s friends immediately ran forward and lifted Xiao Chen’s body off the ground. The brown-skinned youth clutched his stomach in pain, having just taken a kick directly to his solar plexus.

Each of Xiao Chen’s arms was gripped tightly by one of the young men. Another held his head in place, leaving him completely helpless.

In such a state, Xiao Chen could do nothing but accept his fate. This wasn’t the first time he had been beaten by Lu Han, the son of the merchant he worked for.

The powerful blows and kicks Lu Han delivered struck Xiao Chen squarely in the chest and stomach, sending him staggering backward again before collapsing to the ground.

Two of Lu Han’s friends once again hoisted Xiao Chen’s weakened body upright.

“Beat him as much as you want, Lu Han!” said one of the young men holding Xiao Chen.

“Xiao Chen… Xiao Chen… I’ve told you many times not to make my father send me to look for you. You’ve wasted my time!”

Thud!

Another hard punch slammed into Xiao Chen’s stomach. With both of his arms tightly restrained, he couldn’t do anything but endure yet another painful blow from Lu Han.

Xiao Chen knew that Lu Han only used that excuse to justify beating him. He honestly didn’t understand what wrong he had committed to make Lu Han hate him so much.

“What exactly have I done to you to deserve this hatred? I know your father never ordered you to find me. That’s just your excuse to beat me up, isn’t it?” Xiao Chen asked softly. He could taste the bitterness of blood trickling from the corner of his lips.

“Hahaha… So you’ve finally figured it out, you poor fool. If you don’t want me to beat you, then stop working for my father!” Lu Han spat angrily.

Another punch landed squarely on Xiao Chen’s face, splitting his lip and drawing more blood.

Though pain racked his body, especially his face, not a single groan escaped from Xiao Chen’s lips. He was used to pain—beatings from Lu Han and his friends had become too frequent.

Lifting his bloodied face, Xiao Chen glared at Lu Han defiantly. This only made Lu Han even more furious, pushing his rage to its peak.

“So you want to die, huh? You dare raise your face to me? That means you’re challenging me! You filthy trash!” Lu Han growled.

“You're not a god who can decide when I die, Lu Han! To me, you’re nothing but a spoiled brat living off your father’s wealth. You are the real trash,” Xiao Chen sneered.

“You bastard! Beat this scum until he can’t speak ever again!” shouted Lu Han.

“What if he dies?” asked one of his friends.

“There’s nothing to worry about. My father is the richest man in Qincheng. No one in this village would dare question his death. Besides, he and his parents are just worthless garbage polluting our village!” Lu Han replied confidently.

Fueled by that assurance, Lu Han’s four friends released their holds on Xiao Chen and began attacking him. Punches and kicks rained down relentlessly, but Xiao Chen didn’t let out a single cry of pain.

Eventually, Xiao Chen lost consciousness. His body could no longer endure the agony. He lay motionless on the ground.

Lu Han laughed in satisfaction upon seeing Xiao Chen pass out.

“I have one last task for you all,” Lu Han said once his laughter faded.

“What task now, Lu Han?” asked one of his friends.

“Let’s piss on this trash. If he’s dead, then his spirit will stink of urine and even paradise will refuse to accept him. But if he’s still alive, no one will ever want to come near him. Hahaha!”

The four young men could only stare at Lu Han in disbelief at his twisted reasoning. But what could they do? Lu Han had always funded their lives—drinking, women, and all their vices. That’s how Lu Han controlled them.

And so, the four young men took turns urinating on Xiao Chen’s body. Once satisfied, they left him there.

Night fell, cloaking the Earth in darkness. Xiao Chen, unconscious from the pain, finally regained consciousness as the cold seeped into his body.

The first thing he felt upon waking was searing pain all over. Then the strong stench of urine invaded his nostrils.

“You’re a savage, Lu Han…” he muttered weakly. His fury at Lu Han and his gang was hard to contain.

But then he realized that seeking revenge was pointless. Lu Han was too powerful. The son of Lu Feng, the wealthiest man in Qincheng, could pay anyone to beat—or even kill—him.

The edge of the forest was now pitch black. Xiao Chen then remembered Lu Feng’s order to gather dry firewood. Still aching, he began gathering the scattered firewood one by one by feel.

After tying the wood back into a bundle, he didn’t take it straight to Lu Feng’s house. Instead, he decided to take it home first and deliver it in the morning.

Despite his injuries, Xiao Chen walked quickly. He was worried his parents might be anxious since it was already so late. But as he approached his home, what he saw made him freeze.

His father was fighting—battling against four men dressed entirely in black, each wielding a large sickle as a weapon.

“Father?” Xiao Chen stared in disbelief. The man he had always seen as weak… was actually a warrior.