Chapter Four: Brewing Wine

“Whoosh!”
The final throwing knife, clenched in his palm for so long, flashed out like lightning. In the next instant, it shot into the Bloodthirsty Wind Wolf’s mouth, pierced its tongue, and punctured its throat!

The wolf howled in agony, its massive body struggling for a moment before crashing to the ground. Its four sturdy hooves twitched a few times, then fell still.

“Little brother, are you alright?”
Wu Shengke rushed to Ke Bei’s side, his honest face full of concern. He bent down and extended his hand, pulling Ke Bei up from the ground.

“I’m fine. Is that beast dead?”
Ke Bei’s taut nerves relaxed a little, and a wave of weakness surged through him. His arm trembled; firing so many throwing knives had pushed him far beyond his limits.

Wu Shengke cautiously approached the Bloodthirsty Wind Wolf, checked it over, and nodded to Ke Bei.

Seeing Wu Shengke’s nod, Ke Bei felt his whole body lighten, staggering as he nearly fell. His nerves and body were utterly exhausted.

“We need to go. It’s getting dark—we have to hurry back to the city.”
Wu Shengke frowned at the darkening sky, crouched down, and hoisted the wolf’s corpse onto his shoulder.

In the final moments before nightfall, the six of them, supporting each other, walked along the ruined highway toward Lingfeng City. Fortunately, they were close now, and encountered no further mishaps.

“Little brother, you killed the Bloodthirsty Wind Wolf—it belongs to you. I need to take Wu Jie to get his wounds treated, so I won’t see you off. I’ll repay this life-saving favor someday.”
Wu Shengke looked at Wu Jie, whose face was pale as gold leaf, worry etched deeply into his rugged features. He placed the wolf’s corpse in front of Ke Bei, apologetic.

Ke Bei glanced at Wu Jie’s fractured chest, his pale face, and then at Zhang Yuan’s oddly broken arm, frowning in thought.

Wu Shengke’s team had suffered serious injuries. The deep furrows on Wu Shengke’s honest brow betrayed his hidden anxiety.

Ke Bei knew Wu Shengke’s team needed the Bloodthirsty Wind Wolf more than he did.

“It’s too heavy—hard to carry. Tell you what, do you have any Red Crystal Coins? Give me three and I’ll sell it to you.”
Ke Bei raised his eyebrows, indifferent. He knew that if he simply gave them the wolf, this honest man would never accept it.

“That’s—that’s not right! A Bloodthirsty Wind Wolf is worth at least ten Red Crystal Coins!”
Wu Shengke waved his hands in protest, refusing to accept. Ke Bei had saved his life, and the beast was slain by Ke Bei; he had no reason to take such advantage.

“Enough. No more arguments.”
Ke Bei said sternly.

After some debate, Ke Bei finally accepted the only five Red Crystal Coins Wu Shengke had. Not daring to linger, he turned and left quickly.

Wu Shengke watched Ke Bei’s departing figure, his face heavier than ever. He spoke gravely,
“Remember his name—Ke Bei. He’s a true good man. If he ever needs help, repay this favor even at the cost of your life!”

Wu Jie and Zhang Yuan nodded solemnly.

Ke Bei didn’t hurry home. He touched the pouch at his waist, feeling the ten Red Crystal Coins inside, and turned into the West City’s Never-Night District, extravagantly spending two coins on a roast chicken and a bottle of fine rum.

With a smile on his lips, Ke Bei imagined his bearded father drinking and feasting, feeling a surge of pride. He bought thirty more throwing knives and, exhausted but excited, returned to the Southern City’s Wanpeng District.

Tonight, there was no moon, no stars. The sky was so black it inspired fear. There wasn’t even the faintest breeze, making the already gloomy night feel even more oppressive.

He pushed open the heavy wooden door. The house was empty. In the silent darkness, only Ke Bei’s slightly rough breathing could be heard. For some reason, unease and a trace of panic welled up in his heart.

He lit the oil lamp, bringing a faint glow to the darkness. In the dim light, he looked at the steaming roast chicken in his hands and the fine bottle of rum, feeling his anxiety increase.

Where was his father?
Where had the bearded old man gone?
With an injured arm, his father wouldn’t go hunting zombies, so where could he have gone? For fifteen years, Ke Bei had never faced the darkness alone; his father had always been there.

His anxiety grew, and unconsciously his shoulders began to tremble. To hide his panic, Ke Bei picked up the wine jug and lit a torch, remembering his father liked his wine warm.

Half an hour passed. The wine was heated, but his father had not returned.

Staring at the steaming rum, touching the gradually cooling roast chicken, Ke Bei gazed at the open door, waiting for someone to return.

The wine was heated seven times and cooled seven times. The roast chicken was completely cold, no warmth left, just like Ke Bei’s mood. As the constellations shifted and dawn chased away the darkness, the sky brightened, but Ke Bei’s heart only grew darker.

He suddenly grabbed the full jug of rum and drank deeply, the burning sensation flooding his chest, bringing warm tears to his eyes.

“Dad, if you don’t come back soon, I’ll finish off this fine rum myself…”

He muttered, holding the wine jug in a daze. Another hour passed. The sun was high outside, and squinting at the bright light beyond the cottage, Ke Bei gulped down more rum until the jug was nearly empty.

He didn’t drink it all, saving the last mouthful for his bearded father. But he was already drunk. For the first time in fifteen years, he drank, got drunk, and spent the long, lonely night without his father.

The roof danced, the greasy wooden table wobbled, as if mocking Ke Bei.

Alcohol and meat filled his stomach, but his heart ached all the more. He forced open his heavy eyelids, crystalline tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving deep furrows.

Twelve years ago, Ke Bei’s mother disappeared just like this. Twelve years later, his father vanished as well.

The apocalypse was merciless. Even his last family member had been taken from him. What did he have left? What remained?

“Dad… Dad…”

He collapsed, dazed, onto the cold bed. As he lay down, a faint rustling sounded by his ear. Next to his pillow, a white sheet covered in black handwriting appeared before his wine-blurred eyes.

Ke Bei’s mind exploded, the effects of the alcohol seeming to vanish instantly.

“Brat, your old man has to take care of some trivial matters that have piled up for more than ten years. You’ve grown up now. If I’m not around, don’t starve yourself, and don’t disgrace me.”

Clutching the white paper, reading the rough black script, Ke Bei suddenly smiled foolishly.

“There’s a box under the right side of the bed. Open it!”

Ke Bei put down the note, lifted the bed board, and dragged out a black wooden chest nearly one and a half meters long. He didn’t know what was inside; it was quite heavy.

Although not a gene-enhanced fighter, Ke Bei was strong. The black chest weighed at least twenty or thirty kilograms.

“What treasure did he leave me?”

Ke Bei brushed the dust off the chest and slowly opened it.

Inside was a long knife, a meter and a half in length, covered in rust. The wooden hilt was carved with two ancient characters: ‘Sky Splitter’. In the corner of the chest lay a handwritten book.

“The knife in the chest is for you. The manual—well, I wrote it. Only three moves. Name them yourself. Not to brag, but if you master the first move, killing red-haired zombies will be as easy as slicing vegetables. Master all three, and the world will be yours.”

Ke Bei held the thin sheet, smiled at the familiar handwriting.

“Practice the knife skills well. If you can’t master even one move, don’t go out hunting zombies. You’re too frail, can’t take the strain. There are some Red Crystal Coins hidden in the compartment of the chest—savings from all these years. Use them sparingly…”

He carefully folded the note and placed it under the bed.

“When did Dad save up so many Red Crystal Coins?”

Ke Bei took out the Sky Splitter knife, revealing a pile of Red Crystal Coins—seventy or eighty in total.

“Well, I’m not sure Dad’s knife skills are that incredible. He always used an axe! Still, I’d better practice these moves…”

He weighed the heavy Sky Splitter knife and smiled.

Ke Bei didn’t go hunting zombies. He seemed to have forgotten that mission, spending three days shut in his cabin, studying the knife techniques.

The heavy wooden door creaked open. Sunlight pierced the clouds, and the sudden brightness made Ke Bei squint, taking a while to adjust.

He wore a gray leather jacket, Sky Splitter slung across his back, thirty throwing knives in his waist pouch, and coarse linen trousers.

After four days of practice, he had finally learned the first move of his father’s knife technique.

A chilly morning breeze caressed his face. Fully prepared, Ke Bei was ready to hunt zombies.

“Brother Bei!”

Just as Ke Bei was about to step out, a voice filled with surprise called out.

The boy looked about eleven or twelve, thin and frail, his large eyes made even bigger by his gaunt cheeks. Barefoot on the cold ground, he rushed forward as the door opened, excitement misting his eyes.

“Brother Bei, please save my sister! My father—my father wants to sell her to Butcher Zhou!”

The boy, sobbing, explained his purpose. Last night, he overheard his father planning to sell his sister. He slipped out, waited all night outside Ke Bei’s house, too scared to knock, waiting until now.

In the entire Wanpeng District, gene-enhanced fighters like the bearded old man were rare. The two most famous, and most successful, were Ke Bei’s father and Butcher Zhou.

When he heard his father wanted to sell his sister to Butcher Zhou, the boy panicked. In Wanpeng, Butcher Zhou was synonymous with cruelty and bloodlust. He instinctively thought of the bearded old man, the only one who could stand up to Butcher Zhou. And since he’d met Ke Bei a few times, he waited outside Ke Bei’s door all night.

“Brother Bei, please… you have to save my sister. Butcher Zhou has bought five women this year, and none survived more than three months. If he buys my sister, she’s doomed!”

Like a drowning child grabbing the last straw, the boy’s filthy hands clung desperately to Ke Bei’s sleeve.

“Let’s go!”

Ke Bei was furious—not because of Butcher Zhou’s cruelty, which he already knew, but because this now involved him.

He recognized the boy—Old Li’s youngest in Wanpeng. He knew the sister mentioned, though they’d never spoken, but at least they were acquainted, so now it was his concern.

Youthful blood boiling, Ke Bei’s thoughts were simple: You touch my people, you disrespect me.

When did the boy’s sister become his people? Ke Bei hadn’t considered that.

He’d learned the Flying Knife technique, mastered his father’s knife moves, and his youthful heart yearned for a fight—a battle under the gaze of all.