Even if he were to formally guide Zhou Minghu in his cultivation, it could not be done within the county town. After all, the county town was home to numerous immortal masters who were extremely sensitive to the fluctuations of Spiritual Qi. Even if cultivators did practice there, most had well-known backgrounds and roots. Should an unfamiliar aura suddenly appear, it would naturally draw attention and invite unnecessary trouble.

Zhou Ping brought the two children to the Lin residence. Before Lin Ruohe even had time to leave for the yamen, he heard from a servant that Zhou Ping had arrived, and he immediately hurried out with a joyful expression to welcome them.

"Brother Ping, it is truly remiss of you to visit without sending word in advance," Lin Ruohe said with a bright smile.

Ever since Zhou Ping cured Lin Zhaohe and brought joy back to the Lin household, this bond of friendship had barely faded, despite the passing of many years.

But Zhou Ping also knew that until his own family possessed sufficient strength, it was best to use this friendship sparingly. After all, when the power between two families was so unequal, friendship could only be consumed as a finite resource. If the Zhou family were a mighty force, this bond would only grow deeper the more it was used.

Even though he was a Spirit Awakening Realm cultivator with formidable martial prowess, he still had to bow his head and lower his gaze when facing Lin Ruohe.

There was no other reason than the fact that the Zhao Kingdom's imperial court stood behind Lin Ruohe.

In truth, Spirit Awakening Realm cultivators were little different from the martial artists of the mortal jianghu in both status and strength. They had not truly transcended the mortal coil, and thus naturally fell under the court's jurisdiction.

Only upon reaching the Qi Condensation realm and above would the imperial court officially recognize them as an Immortal Clan, permitting them to oversee a territory and establish their own domain.

Because of this, the court rarely appointed cultivators as official bureaucrats in the open. This was partly due to the sheer scarcity of cultivators, but also to prevent low-level cultivators from tyrannizing the mortal populace. Mortal officials were far easier to control; if they erred, the court could simply execute them and seize their assets.

This created a rather unique hierarchy: the imperial court governed the mortal officials, while the mortal officials administered the lands, managing the cultivation families, wealthy landowners, and the countless commoners within their borders.

"I was simply too worried about the safety of the children in my family, which is why I hurried over so early in the morning," Zhou Ping replied with an apologetic smile.

Lin Ruohe did not mind the intrusion and led the three of them indoors.

Upon hearing Zhou Ping recount the events of the previous night from beginning to end, Lin Ruohe abruptly stood up and cursed in outrage, "To think there are bandits audacious enough to commit such lawless acts within the county town, right under my very nose!"

"Rest assured, Brother Ping. You are the savior of my Lin family. I will certainly give you a satisfactory accounting of this matter."

As he spoke, Lin Ruohe covered his face and wept sorrowfully. "Brother Ping, you saved my son Zhaohe back then, preserving the incense of my Lin family. And now, just beyond our walls, a terrible tragedy nearly befell your own kin. As your elder brother, I am deeply ashamed."

Zhou Ping watched Lin Ruohe hide his face and cry. It looked like an outpouring of genuine emotion, but Zhou Ping's heart grew cold. The underlying meaning of Lin Ruohe's words was clear: he was trading their past friendship to repay this debt of gratitude once and for all.

Even if the two families kept in touch after this, they would never be as close as before. In the end, it all came down to the Zhou family's weakness, possessing neither authority nor influence.

Zhou Ping had also seen through Lin Ruohe's true nature-he was self-righteous and hypocritical. No wonder he had been entirely marginalized by the Deputy Magistrate, and no wonder none of the cultivators in the city had been willing to save his son.

Zhou Ping said earnestly, "It was those three who were vicious and sinister. It naturally has nothing to do with you, elder brother."

"Brother Ping," Lin Ruohe called out, seemingly squeezing a few more tears from the corners of his eyes. "I will summon my men immediately to bring those three to justice!"

"Thank you, elder brother," Zhou Ping said with gratitude.

Lin Ruohe said slowly, "It is still early. Why not stay as a guest in my home so I can properly host you?"

Suddenly, he turned his head to look at Zhou Changhe.

"Brother Ping, this is your nephew, isn't it? He seems to get along quite well with my Zhaohe." He stroked Zhou Changhe's head with a look of satisfaction. "I have been in the county town for so long, but I have been a poor uncle. I've been so busy with official duties that I never found the time to visit."

"The county examinations are in a few days. Let him take the exam together with my Zhaohe."

"Thank you, elder brother," Zhou Ping said, cupping his fists.

He knew that after this affair, the friendship with the Lin family would be completely extinguished. Lin Ruohe had deliberately brought up Zhou Changhe just to implicitly promise him the status of a Child Scholar.

But the status of a Child Scholar was completely useless to the Zhou family.

To use a casually tossed-out scrap of charity to repay a life-saving grace-truly worthy of Lord Lin.

Zhou Ping sneered inwardly, though his face maintained a warm, unchanging smile.

Originally, he had wanted to save this favor to be consumed only when the family faced an existential crisis. But Zhou Yuan and the other two had vanished into a sea of people; only the imperial yamen had the means to track them down. Zhou Ping had no other choice but to seek Lin Ruohe's help.

After all, those three had cast an immense shadow of trauma over Changhe and Minghu, nearly precipitating a tragic end. How could Zhou Ping possibly swallow that? If they did not catch those three immediately, there might never be another chance to find them.

If the friendship was gone, then so be it. Once the family grew strong, friendships would naturally flock to them. But if he could not slaughter his enemies with his own hands, the raging fire in Zhou Ping's heart would never fade, and the terror gripping Changhe and Minghu would never be quelled.

After the yamen runners came to ask Zhou Changhe for the appearances and names of Ma Liu, Chen Wu, and the third man, it took only a few hours to uncover a lead.

After all, Ma Liu and Chen Wu were notorious local ruffians among the neighborhoods, and the yamen had long been familiar with them.

"Reporting to Your Honor. When the city gates first opened this morning, Chen Wu and the other two were seen leaving the city."

Listening from the side, Zhou Ping was instantly filled with bitter frustration.

He had entered the city this very morning, brushing right past the very villains who had plotted to butcher Changhe and Minghu!

"About an hour later, Ma Liu and Chen Wu returned to the city, but Zhou Yuan was nowhere to be seen. Currently, those two are amusing themselves in the Chen family's gambling house."

"They are flush with silver today. We suspect that Zhou Yuan was murdered for his wealth by those two," the minor official from the Patrol Office reported meticulously.

The Patrol Office was responsible for public security within the county, so their information network was naturally sharp.

"Shall we apprehend the two of them and bring them to justice immediately?"

Lin Ruohe spoke with righteous indignation, "How can we tolerate such brazen lunatics running rampant? Hurry and seize them at once! Throw them into the great prison to await sentencing."

Immediately, several constables charged menacingly toward the Chen family gambling house, drawing the curious, craning necks of the commoners along the street.

Ma Liu and his companion were still hollering at the gambling table, wildly celebrating a hard-won hand, when they were brutally slammed face-down onto the table by the constables in the very next instant.

Inside the great prison.

"Your Honor, I am innocent!" Ma Liu wailed, crying out for his parents.

"Cease your sophistry! Was it you who murdered Zhou Yuan? Was it you who robbed the Zhou family's wealth?" the bailiff barked sharply.

Ma Liu sobbed through his snot and tears. "Your Honor, Zhou Yuan did indeed leave the city with us, but we parted ways at Majia Slope! How could we have killed anyone?"

He knew full well that as long as he bit down hard and denied the murder, he would only be facing a charge of theft. At worst, he would suffer a few dozen strokes of the heavy bamboo and be locked up for a while. If they happened to encounter a year of imperial amnesty, he would be released immediately.

The bailiff merely sneered. They truly had no hard evidence that Ma Liu and his accomplice had killed Zhou Yuan. But the Master of Records wanted these two men dead, and a theft charge was more than enough. There was no need for any convoluted legal maneuvers.

"Hmph. It is exactly local scum like you, idle, shiftless, and addicted to gambling and thievery, who have turned my Qingshui County into a foul and chaotic mess."

After all, the application of the heavy bamboo involved profound techniques. If beaten lightly, even a few hundred strokes would serve as nothing more than a brisk massage; but if struck with true, rigid force, a mere ten strokes could claim a man's life!

"Men, give each of them thirty heavy strokes of the board!"

The next moment, several jailers marched in and forcibly pinned the two men down over the punishing benches.

Ma Liu had managed to maintain a sliver of composure, but the instant the first heavy board smashed down, his face contorted hideously, and he unleashed a bloodcurdling howl.

"Ah!"

The flesh of his buttocks was instantly split open, his clothes soaked a dark, muddy red with blood in the blink of an eye, and his face turned deathly pale.

The tall and burly Chen Wu was frightened so pale that he lost every ounce of his usual ferocious swagger.

Outside the cell, Lin Ruohe, Zhou Ping, and the others watched in absolute silence. Zhou Minghu was so terrified that he shrank deep into Zhou Ping's embrace, his small body trembling violently with every sickening thud and agonizing shriek.

Although Zhou Changhe was also afraid, his eyes remained locked on the scene, a look of ruthless, vindictive pleasure surfacing on his face.

From the corner of his eye, Lin Ruohe observed the reactions of Zhou Changhe and Zhou Minghu, his gaze ultimately settling on Zhou Ping's face.

Even if Zhou Changhe had a vicious temperament and was the perfect seedling for a ruthless man, what did it matter? In this world, being ruthless was not enough. One had to be strong-so strong that all others lived in terror of them.

Zhou Ping simply watched in silence. While he took no joy in slaughter, he had cultivated the Dao for ten years and managed his home for five. Having weathered all manner of trials and tribulations, he was naturally unmoved by a little blood and gore.

In the end, Ma Liu only lasted until the seventeenth stroke before giving up the ghost. And though Chen Wu was heavily built, he merely survived until the twenty-sixth stroke.

It seemed they had fallen just shy of thirty strokes, but since the jailers intended for them to die, survival had never been a possibility. Even if they had miraculously endured all thirty strokes, the damp, pitch-black hell of the prison cells would have eventually claimed their lives.

"Brother Ping, are you satisfied?" Lin Ruohe asked with a faint smile.

Zhou Ping bowed respectfully and said, "Many thanks, Your Honor."

Shortly after, he found a polite excuse to take his leave from Lin Ruohe. The government yamen was no place for them to linger.

Watching the retreating figures of Zhou Ping and the two children, Lin Ruohe slowly withdrew his smile, contemplating inwardly.

This Zhou Ping was not a thick-headed fool; he knew his place and understood the unspoken rules.

Lin Ruohe had used the lives of Ma Liu and Chen Wu, along with the status of a Child Scholar, to completely erase the debt of gratitude. He had wanted to expend that favor as quickly as possible.

After all, this was merely a trivial matter that required a lift of his finger, easily resolved. But if the Zhou family were to stir up genuine disaster in the future, he did not want the Lin family to be dragged down into the mud with them.

Yet, he could not afford to sever ties too coldly. If, by some remote chance, the Zhou family ever rose to true power, the Lin family could still use this residual connection to climb higher.