Gao Xiaolian did not dare to struggle any further, terrified and furious, her eyes red-rimmed. That woman stomped ruthlessly on the back of her knee, nearly making her fall flat on her face, and reprimanded, “Then stay still!”

Zhang Chengling hastily lowered his head, pretending as though he had not seen a thing, and avoided the gaze of that woman in black. He only raised his head cautiously after he saw that she had sat down, and scrutinised Gao Xiaolian closely.

His impression of Gao Xiaolian had always been good; he thought of her as a soft-spoken jiejie who was gentle and pretty. Seeing that she even had bruises on her face, obviously from someone’s beatings, he privately determined that this bunch of black-clothed women was no good.

He glanced at the entrance again, anxiously wondering, Why are shifu and Senior Wen not back yet?

This gang of black-clothed people were clearly hurrying on their way; unlike Zhang Chengling’s thorough chewing and leisurely swallowing, they filled their stomachs hastily, immediately set down money for the meal and made to leave, but there was still no sign of Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing returning any time soon.

Zhang Chengling could not sit and wait any longer.

Come to speak of it, it was odd--as long as Zhang Chengling was in Zhou Zishu’s presence, he would seem especially useless. For one, the word ‘useless’ was often a catchphrase for his shifu, who ranked top in the world for impatience; for another, with shifu to rely on, he was like a child with a mother--for any insignificant, minor troubles, if he wailed “Save me, shifu”, there would be his strong and powerful shifu come to rescue him, scolding and cursing as he did so.

Now that Zhou Zishu was absent, he was calm and daring instead. Discreetly calling the waiter over, he gave him some brief instructions, and then chased after the women with great prudence.

On the other side, Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing, who did not return for the night, encountered a strange happenstance too.

As Wen Kexing listened to the voices and creaking of the bed grow increasingly unbridled, he could not help but feel a little puzzled. Usually, in a brothel, these pleasant affairs took place in the private rooms of these maidens who entertained customers. Was this maiden was deaf, blind, or stupid, to be unaware of the empty space underneath the bed boards, and that it housed a large den of Posionous Scorpions?

He tugged Zhou Zishu’s hand to himself and wrote on his palm, Whose room is this?

Zhou Zishu paused, then wrote, The head scorpion’s.