Great Dao Lord through Deducing Myriad Arts

The West Garden opera house was packed, as always.

Tonight’s performance featured Yang Lian’Er’s three signature plays, so the crowd was even larger than usual.

By the time Zhao Hui arrived at the entrance, the tickets were long sold out.

Not that he planned on seeing the show anyway. He had always respectfully declined this sort of entertainment.

Zhao Hui found a teahouse across the street with a view of the opera house entrance, sat down, and began to wait.

While he waited, Zhao Hui mentally reviewed all the clues he had gathered over the past two days, and the results only further confirmed his earlier theory.

The perpetrator had to be someone familiar with the inner workings of the Five Blessings Hall’s rickshaw business. However, the group of most likely suspects had already been investigated with no results.

This made Zhao Hui feel a rare flicker of irritation.

Previously, he hadn’t focused his attention on the pullers, instead concentrating his investigation on the peripheral connections of Five Blessings Hall, especially those of Yang Hu.

But the results were still grim; even those who fit the profile had alibis for the time of the crime.

Only then did he turn his gaze to the rickshaw pullers.

After all, the act of massacring a family and burning the bodies seemed like something done by someone with a grudge against the Five Blessings Hall’s business.

And when it came to who hated the business the most, it was naturally these exploited pullers.

Yet now, even Zhao Hui himself wasn’t sure if the killer was hiding among them.

’After all, who would do such back-breaking labor if they had skills like that?’

But things had come to this, so all he could do was wait patiently.

At midnight, with one final, resounding cheer, the night’s performance ended, and the audience began to file out.

Having already downed two pots of tea, Zhao Hui roused himself, his eyes fixed on the entrance, tracking the figures of the rickshaw pullers coming and going. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

He had read the file in detail, so Zhao Hui knew that this Wu Liangchen was a handsome teenager of sixteen or seventeen.

Someone like that would stand out, so he should be easy to find.

And just as he expected.

Just as the opera house had nearly emptied, a brand-new rickshaw entered Zhao Hui’s line of sight.

The one pulling it was a youth with a tall, straight posture. Though he was too far away to make out his features clearly, Zhao Hui knew on instinct alone that this had to be the person he was looking for.

He immediately stood up, tossed some money for the tea onto the table, and hurried out of the teahouse.

But in that brief delay, Wu Liangchen had already picked up his passenger and left.

Zhao Hui grew anxious. It was too late to hail another rickshaw, so he simply took off after them on foot.

Meanwhile, Aunt Fan, who was walking alongside the rickshaw, suddenly sensed something and couldn’t help but glance back.

"What is it, Aunt Fan?" Yang Lian’Er asked from the rickshaw, munching loudly on an apple.

"It’s nothing. Probably just a fan," Aunt Fan said, turning back around.

At the same time, Zhao Hui had already stopped in his tracks, a strange expression on his face as he watched the departing rickshaw.

He truly hadn’t expected there to be such an expert by the opera singer’s side.

Just a moment ago, he had clearly felt a piercing killing intent.

It was what had forced him to stop.

However, this only made Zhao Hui all the more curious.

Then, with a flicker of movement, he vanished into the vast darkness of the night.

In the early hours of the morning, nearly everyone was deep in slumber. The streets, bustling all day, had finally fallen quiet.

Of course, that was only true for North City.

Once you left the confines of North City, homeless refugees were sprawled everywhere. You had to watch your step constantly, or you might tread on someone.

Wu Liangchen wasn’t pulling his rickshaw; he was walking home.

He was now essentially Yang Lian’Er’s private puller, so he no longer needed to haul the rickshaw back and forth as he had before.

Of course, he had also quit his job at the South City market. There was little point in making deliveries to the Long Wind Martial Arts Hall anymore.

He was lucky to have been able to secretly learn the Four-Step Fist. As for other, more advanced Martial Arts, Wu Liangchen was certain they wouldn’t be displayed so carelessly.

Though when he quit, that Sister Hu had seemed even more reluctant to see him go than he was to leave.

The only one who was probably happy about it was the little apprentice.

Wu Liangchen walked at a leisurely pace. He enjoyed the feeling of walking alone in the night.

That was why he now tried to wear dark-colored clothes whenever possible; it made him feel safe.

But for some reason, today Wu Liangchen had the constant feeling of being watched, like needles on his back.

But Wu Liangchen showed no sign of anything unusual. He didn’t even look back, just continued heading home as normal.

But the moment he stepped into South City’s territory, he suddenly ducked into a small alley to the side.

’Damn it!’ Zhao Hui, tailing him from a distance, cursed inwardly and immediately quickened his pace to follow.

But South City’s terrain was complex, its alleys as dense as a spiderweb. Unless you were a native born and raised there or a rickshaw puller who knew the area intimately, it was difficult to navigate.

Zhao Hui was fast on his feet, but his disadvantage was his unfamiliarity with the terrain.

He was only a few steps behind, but now there was no way to catch up.

After blundering around blindly for a while, Zhao Hui stopped, his face grim. But inwardly, he felt a faint sense of satisfaction.

Whether Wu Liangchen was the killer or not, it at least proved the young man was nowhere near as simple as his file suggested.

Zhao Hui even had a feeling that he was very close to the truth of the matter.

’It doesn’t matter if he got away this time,’ he thought. ’I have the lead now. He can’t escape my grasp.’

At this thought, Zhao Hui pulled out his flask and took several large, satisfying gulps.

He hadn’t had a drink all day.

Zhao Hui had a rule: once an investigation began, he wouldn’t touch a drop of alcohol, all to maintain absolute clarity of mind.

Now that his day of hard work had finally paid off, Zhao Hui, a veteran drunkard, couldn’t wait to take a few sips to satisfy his craving.

But just as Zhao Hui finished his drink and was about to let out a long, comfortable sigh, a figure suddenly lunged down from the roof of a dilapidated building nearby at incredible speed.

The timing was perfect, chosen for the precise moment when Zhao Hui’s guard was at its lowest and his defenses were most relaxed.

The figure’s attack was ferocious. He was still in mid-air, but the wind from his fist arrived first.

Caught completely off guard, all Zhao Hui could do was roar, throwing his flask at the attacker in an attempt to buy himself a sliver of time.

But the lunging figure paid it no mind; his target was clear: Zhao Hui.

With no other choice, Zhao Hui desperately dodged, trying to evade the blow.

POW!

The punch, long held in reserve, smashed squarely into Zhao Hui’s shoulder.

Following a muffled grunt, the tin flask CLANGED to the ground, liquor pooling out from it.

"It really is you!" Zhao Hui cried out, his voice hoarse.

He could finally see the figure clearly now—handsome face, tall and straight posture. Who else could it be but Wu Liangchen, the very person he had been tracking all day?

Wu Liangchen, however, wasted no words. Fists and feet flew, a barrage of vicious, killing moves pressing down on Zhao Hui like a torrential, unending river.