Chapter 140: The Sword Immortal Must Die

Once outside, they got back into the car. Zhang Jing leaned in and asked teasingly, “Where did you get such a luxury car? Don’t tell me you rented it just to impress girls, putting on airs?”

“It’s a company car. I can use it whenever I want,” Xiao Ma replied lazily, not bothering to explain further.

“Well... why don’t I have any perks like that at work?” Zhang Jing muttered, glancing around as if searching for something.

She had expected a mysterious private outing but found themselves at Deming Primary School, where they saw that little girl who once had a broom in a standoff with Zhang Jing.

Now Wang Xiao’ai had become quite impressive. After school, she was surrounded by a swarm of elementary students, some trying to treat her to snacks, others deliberately striking up conversations.

“I’m done chatting with you kids, I’m leaving now. The Land Rover’s here to pick me up.”

Wang Xiao’ai spotted Da Min waving from the car and ignored the others. She skipped over, opened the door, and sat in the front seat.

Once inside, Wang Xiao’ai exclaimed excitedly, looking around and touching everything.

While driving, Zhang Jing received a call from a colleague, who revealed that Qiu Tianjue had apparently been arrested.

Zhang Jing was momentarily puzzled by the news, but since it was good news, her mood brightened considerably.

She asked Wang Xiao’ai what she wanted to eat and got “KFC” as the answer.

Xiao Ma gave her a playful slap on the back of the head but ultimately decided to go to Yingjiang Tower for a bottle of red wine to relax.

After all, he had just extorted tens of thousands of yuan from Teresa by bluffing, so it was only fitting to enjoy himself a bit.

Zhang Jing generally protected the little girl and shot a sideways glance at Xiao Ma: “There’s a type of person in my unit I can’t stand. When we eat together, he won’t order, insisting I do it. Then when I order, he comes over complaining this or that is no good. It’s like he’s got a screw loose—always opposing just to feel important. If you’ve already decided on Yingjiang Tower, just go. Don’t ask the girl for her preference, then reject it and still go there. That’s just crazy.”

“Uh…” Xiao Ma thought this female thug actually had some culture and made a lot of sense.

So despite hating KFC, he patted the little girl’s head: “Alright, KFC it is.”

The little girl brightened up again and began to warm to the female thug.

Zhang Jing couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Xiao Ma, appreciating that despite his oddness, he usually admitted when he was wrong. That was a plus.

They went to a nearby KFC.

Since it was a low-end fast food place for the poor, Zhang Jing volunteered to pay. Xiao Ma, uninterested, headed to the restroom.

Zhang Jing, too lazy to queue, pulled out her wallet and casually handed the little girl five hundred yuan: “Buy whatever you want this time. You’re in charge.”

The little girl was thrilled and went to line up with the money.

Zhang Jing found a table suitable for three and waited.

After Xiao Ma came out of the restroom and sat down, they chatted casually.

When he learned the little girl had been given five hundred yuan, Xiao Ma’s face instantly changed: “This is probably doomed. Even if you gave her a thousand, she’d just turn it all into KFC.”

He hurried to stand up and intervene but was too late. Countless people bustled about; the little girl’s order was nearly completely delivered, piling up on the table.

Xiao Ma and Zhang Jing nearly fainted at the sight.

The little girl bit her finger and said, “Did I do something wrong?”

What else could she do besides eat it all or carry it away?

By the end, the girl’s belly was round and full, and she sighed, “I probably won’t want KFC again for a while.”

Xiao Ma chuckled inwardly, having found a way to handle this insatiable KFC-loving little girl.

What she couldn’t eat, she’d pack up and bring home to her dad. She had a conscience and always saved some for him to try.

After leaving, they sat in the car and aimlessly drove in circles.

The driver grinned crookedly, knowing his contract with Feng Chenchen guaranteed a base salary of 150 yuan daily plus a per-kilometer commission.

This time Xiao Ma didn’t bother asking where they were headed. He’d already made up his mind. When the dilly-dallying got too much, he’d just drag them to a karaoke bar. The little girl would take the mic and see if she could outsing the female thug and pin her onto the sofa.

While driving, Xiao Ma patted the little girl’s head again, pulling out a thousand yuan and slipping it into her small pocket.

“Xiao’ai, I’m going on a trip soon, won’t be in Haizhou for a while. Maybe I won’t be able to look after you.”

“I can handle myself,” the little girl said, taking only two hundred and returning the rest. “Da Min, where are you going?”

“I’m going to England for a bit,” Xiao Ma didn’t want to lie to her.

“I want to go too, but I’ve taken on several tutoring and homework jobs that I can’t just ditch. If there’s a contract, I have to finish it. So I won’t come with you. You’ll have to be careful while I’m gone.”

Xiao Ma gave her a note to tuck into her pocket as a kind of talisman. It contained contact information for Long Ze Mishu and Zhang Jing, so the little girl could reach out to them if needed.

Besides, after Teacher Chen Hong was subdued, she could act as an undercover ally to look after the girl.

Soon they arrived at the karaoke bar.

This time the mic queen was Zhang Jing, not the little girl, who was busy doing homework in the song room—not her own, but work she’d taken.

The little girl hummed along with the music while rapidly writing with her left hand. Of course, she wasn’t quite the “Great Demon King” level of slyness. In that state, one could write two different subjects with both hands simultaneously and very fast.

Zhang Jing, drinking and singing, was quite a sight. Xiao Ma watched her curiously, feeling she was a complex, three-dimensional person.

He wasn’t sure if she was a good person—in legal terms, she was the kind who could easily end up behind bars. But he was certain she wasn’t a femme fatale.

Some people’s personalities became exaggerated after drinking. Zhang Jing, after many drinks, seemed to embody a poetic loneliness, her figure delicate and her brows gentle.

She gave off a weariness that suggested someone who had seen the world’s indifference.

Well, Xiao Ma wasn’t some literary type; this was just his subconscious appraisal because his body was strangely drawn to her.

From then on, Xiao Ma lost any desire to take advantage of her.

After an ancient-style song ended, Zhang Jing turned to him: “Why does your microexpression look so strange? What are you thinking?”

Xiao Ma surprisingly took another drink and responded with a touch of poetry: “You’re a woman who feels very strange. If we played out a grand, poetic martial arts fantasy, your role would be the swordswoman who lives with sword and wine, writing her life through greed, anger, ignorance, love, and hate.”

Drunk Zhang Jing loved hearing this. “What about you? What’s your role in this story?”

Xiao Ma said, “The story has a lecherous, sly white-faced merchant who disregards the world and doesn’t believe in ghosts. Then there’s a swordswoman who rides a donkey, not interested in showing off, but simply wants to punch a hole through heaven and earth. During heavy snow, by the wind chime ferry, in the western wind, the rough-cloth clad swordswoman meets the white-faced merchant in mink and brocade. They share a pot of chance wine by the autumn river, ignoring origins, and agree to write a six-hundred-year epic together. Amid fate and romance, the swordswoman unlocks her ‘Max Critical Hit’ skill, the merchant unlocks ‘Max Demon Realm.’ Thus begins a chaotic tale. Six centuries later, the Demon Realm covers the sky, but the swordswoman lies in an unremarkable grave, forgotten by all.”

Ma Weimin took a sip and continued: “Only the wind chime ferry remains. Every year during heavy snow, a mysterious white-faced man in mink and brocade comes, shares a pot of warm wine, and sings ‘Longing’—though poorly. Maybe, six hundred years ago, he would have chosen to run wild with her in youth.”

The little girl doing homework looked exasperated, thinking this story would flop for sure.

Zhang Jing was utterly captivated, feeling poetic and moved by Xiao Ma’s words. His mischievous yet sly expression really fit the role of the white-faced merchant. No matter the world, such a person usually laughs last.

“Shall we call this story ‘The Swordswoman Must Die’?” Zhang Jing asked, coming back to reality.

But from then on, the Great Demon King didn’t come out to show off and fell silent again.

Xiao Ma, not being literary himself, protested: “Wouldn’t it be better if two cunning merchants teamed up to dominate?”

“Lame!” Zhang Jing turned away and started picking songs.

“The idea of ‘Two Cunning Merchants Must Dominate’ clearly wouldn’t flop like ‘The Swordswoman Must Die,’” Wang Xiao’ai said before returning to her homework.

Xiao Ma decided, “I’ll personally guide the next script—a martial arts fantasy called ‘Two Cunning Merchants Must Dominate.’”

Zhang Jing rolled her eyes. “Focus on keeping your current job, save up for a down payment, buy a house, and get married. Don’t make a mess like that white-faced merchant in the story, regretting not choosing to just live a quiet life.”

Xiao Ma awkwardly replied, “I already have a wife and a house.”

“You think I haven’t checked your records in the police system?” Zhang Jing retorted, giving him a playful slap on the back of the head.