819: Chapter 66 Mr.
Xue, the Boss, is a Decent Man 819: Chapter 66 Mr.
Xue, the Boss, is a Decent Man Figuring out the truth about the Zhu family, the rest of the matters beco much simpler.
As long as we understand He Lan’s motivations, we can then analyze her behavioral patterns.
The Xue family’s near-massacre was narrowly avoided.
Fortunately for them, there was a dicine Hall nearby, providing tily treatnt—they might yet survive.
Everyone who ntioned this matter felt deeply regretful.
Why save them at all?
This Boss Xue and Fourth Master Zhu both operated in the sa trade, which in local parlance might best be called traitors.
Such topics are highly complex and unworthy of any serious stage discussion.
Thus, this part of history is barely ntioned in modern textbooks.
As a result, many later generations get deceived by public intellectuals’ rhetoric, developing significant misunderstandings about this period, mistakenly viewing the Boxer groups as ignorant peasants manipulated by heretical sect enchantnt…
Among these individuals, one easily overlooked group is the Catholics, or what’s better known as the traitors.
To speak plainly, they are the locals who chose to follow Western Religion during its spread.
Normally, believing in whatever you choose wouldn’t be an issue, but back then, Foreign Priests greatly valued performance trics.
They traveled thousands of miles to The East to preach, all for spreading the gospel and receiving God’s blessing.
Take, for instance, the predecessors who sailed to the New Continent on the Mayflower.
Puritans though they were, witness their achievents.
Then look at our situation, unable to open up the market, not even able to match those Puritans; it was downright shaful for our Pope.
Under such performance pressures—or rather, incentives—many missionaries began actively aiding and supporting their Catholic followers, even encouraging them to humiliate the local virtuous populace, seizing and occupying their property and daughters.
Sotis, feeling market expansion too slow, they directly recruited local street perforrs, loafers, thugs, and rogues…
The precise thods and deeds of these people are hard to corroborate from historical records.
After all, the Imperial Governnt would rather whitewash matters than properly docunt such sordid accounts.
But you can look at the news.
This formula of theirs has remained unchanged for years, consistently unaltered.
After the Boxer Uprising erupted, many Catholics who couldn’t escape in ti were killed; others, however, fled quickly and survived within the Foreigners’ Concession.
Now, with the war ended, the foreigners’ troops withdrawn, and the Emperor returning to the capital, these individuals have also co back.
Fourth Master Zhu and Boss Xue are among the typical examples.
Fourth Master Zhu flaunts his actions more openly, operating under the guise of eradicating demonesses, wandering every street in search of virtuous young maidens.
Boss Xue, by comparison, seed less savage—simply a proper businessman.
However, he would privately loan out usurious funds, now returning with notes and tickets in hand, demanding overdue interest for the ti elapsed.
Wang Yunxiao arrived at the dicine Hall with his brothers, the stench of rancid, nauseating odor hitting them from yards away.
The unmistakable scent of organic farm manure.
Boss Xue’s household—with over 20 people, including maidservants, doorn, and shop assistants—lay scattered across the dicine Hall floor.
His elderly parents were evidently already deceased, while others writhed on the ground clutching their stomachs.
The dicine Hall’s Store Manager wore a mask and held a manure ladle as he shouted from afar, “Old Xue!
Don’t bla for not giving my best effort to save you.
The poison they used wasn’t ordinary arsenic; I’ve tried everything possible—this last makeshift redy might not even work.
How about letting it go?
Why go through such agony…”
Boss Xue struggled to rise, grabbed the manure ladle, pinched his nose, and forcibly gulped it down.
After just two mouthfuls, he couldn’t contain his nausea, retching up all the delicacies he’d eaten earlier.
Though his abdon still knotted in unbearable pain, he nevertheless regained so spirit.
Disregarding his filth-covered self, Boss Xue kowtowed audibly to the outside.
“Aunt Mistress, spare my life!
Aunt Mistress, spare !
I dare not—dare not anymore!
Whatever you desire, you can have, just don’t take my miserable life!”
No response ca.
Wang Yunxiao held his nose as he approached the dicine Hall’s door, attracting the gaze of a towering man squatting nearby, brewing herbal decoctions.
The man glanced at Wang Yunxiao with nary a word yet conspicuously observed him.
A practiced martial artist with exceptionally deep Inner Strength.
He Lan had learned her skills from her mother, an arsenal of unorthodox techniques including poison mastery.
Old Master He himself once remarked that First Ms.
Liu, renowned for her beauty and charming figure, owed her survival in the Jianghu world primarily to her expertise in poison techniques.
Having experienced this himself, Wang Yunxiao felt unaffected.
His resistance was high.
For ordinary people, however, it was an entirely different matter.
Seeing the catastrophic state of Boss Xue’s household, Wang Yunxiao deduced at a glance—He Lan had deliberately administered a slow-acting poison to prolong their suffering; otherwise, they would’ve died long ago.
The dicine Hall’s Store Manager was evidently resourceful, even resorting to rustic folk redies, yet he still hadn’t persuaded Boss Xue to seek treatnt at the Western Hospital for IV drips and stomach washing.
Whether he omitted this intentionally or truly forgot was anyone’s guess.
When questioned, he would surely have his reasons: “I run a traditional Chinese dicine Hall.
How should I know anything about foreign thods?”
If the Store Manager had been the sole person stirring manure here, Wang Yunxiao might not have spared this another thought.
The crux, however, lay with the dicine brewer outside—a martial arts master with deep Inner Strength, discernible from his subtly bulging temples and solid four-stable-horse stance…
If he chose to use his Inner Strength to transmit healing energy, it might genuinely alleviate Boss Xue’s poisoning effects.
Yet he remained silent, crouching here unceremoniously to brew dicine.
One couldn’t help but be curious about what karmic sins Boss Xue might’ve incurred.
Wang Yunxiao had no desire to find out.
The priority remained fulfilling his tasks with a calm disposition, avoiding unnecessary trouble.
As he prepared to step inside, the towering man rose silently, blocking his path with an unassuming smile, saying, “If the guest seeks dicine, please proceed to the front hall.
Here we are in the middle of administering care, as you can see—it’s best to keep away, lest you soil yourself.”
Had the man stayed silent, it would’ve been better—his words imdiately caught the attention of Boss Xue, who had been frantically kowtowing, now lifting his head toward the commotion outside.
Spotting Wang Yunxiao and his entourage’s attire, he cried out, “Revolutionary Party!”
In these tis, anyone walking the streets without braids and not being one of the Foreigners belonged to one of two groups: Fusang people—or Revolutionary Party mbers.
For so individuals, the latter was far more terrifying than the forr.
Given Wang Yunxiao’s stature and physique, he clearly didn’t resemble a Fusang native.
Boss Xue rolled his eyes and fainted with a groan.
“I’m not here to cause trouble.”
Wang Yunxiao solemnly addressed the towering martial artist blocking his way.
“I’ve co searching for the female flying thief, the one who left the Swallow Sect’s na behind.”
The towering man arched an eyebrow.
“Might I inquire which hero you might be?”
“I am her martial uncle.”
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