Chapter 44: Poultry Extortion
The doors of the guest villa clicked shut, sealing out the rich aromas of Lin Laifu’s banquet and plunging Lu Feng and his two companions into the quiet serenity of their temporary home.
The glowing lanterns cast long, dancing shadows across the polished wooden floorboards as Han Lin exhaled a soft breath, loosening the tight, formal posture she had maintained all evening.
"Well," Han Lin murmured, leaning back against the edge of a mahogany table with a quiet, musical chuckle. "If anyone ever needed a masterclass in how to completely bamboozle a greedy loan shark while making him feel like he won the lottery, they only need to watch you in action, Young Master. You practically had the man ready to hand over the deed to his entire estate for three basic healing pills."
Lu Feng unfastened the top clasp of his dark outer robe, letting out an amused sigh. "Greed is the most predictable trait a man can possess. When you feed a parasite exactly what it wants while stroking its vanity, it forgets to check whether it’s swallowing bait or a hook."
Ye Chenxue walked silently toward the center of the room, her dark robes whispering softly against the floor. Her ethereal face remained as calm as unrippled water, though a faint, rare trace of amusement flickered in her sharp eyes.
"The merchant’s heart was beating so erratically when Elder Mo announced the value of those pills that I could hear it from across the table," Ye Chenxue noted dryly, her voice smooth. "If you continue to shower him with such treasures, he will likely start treating you better than his own ledger books."
"That’s precisely the goal," Lu Feng smiled, crossing his arms. "A useful tool must be kept well-oiled."
With the evening’s psychological warfare successfully concluded, the trio prepared to unwind. However, what was supposed to be a peaceful transition into the night quickly took a sharp, chaotic detour into pure, unadulterated absurdity.
The trouble started with a soft, persistent scratching sound coming from the outer courtyard.
*Scratch. Tap. Scratch.*
All three of them instantly stopped moving. The relaxed, comfortable atmosphere vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by sudden, sharp alertness.
Ye Chenxue’s hand dropped instinctively to the hilt of her sheathed sword, her spiritual sense shooting outward like a razor-sharp wave to sweep the perimeter. Han Lin’s expression tightened as she stepped back toward the interior hallway, ready to summon a defensive barrier.
Lu Feng narrowed his eyes, walking slowly toward the large, floor-to-ceiling glass window that looked out over the lantern-lit garden path.
"An assassin? Or one of Lin Laifu’s overzealous servants?" Han Lin whispered, her voice barely a breath.
"Neither," Ye Chenxue murmured, her eyebrows drawing together in absolute, utter confusion as her spiritual probe bounced off whatever was lingering outside the door. "The entity... has no murderous intent. In fact, it has almost no cultivation aura at all. It feels... ridiculously mundane."
Lu Feng reached out, unlatched the heavy wooden front door, and yanked it open with a swift, decisive pull, expecting to find a spy or a clumsy debt collector.
Instead, nothing met his gaze on the threshold.
He lowered his eyes.
Sitting right there on the welcome mat was a creature that defied every single rule of the dangerous, blood-soaked martial world they had spent weeks navigating.
It was a small, extraordinarily chubby spirit-duck.
Its feathers were a pristine, fluffy shade of glowing pastel pink, and it wore a tiny, ridiculously oversized merchant’s waistcoat complete with a miniature golden abacus dangling from a button.
The creature blinked its large, round, watery black eyes up at Lu Feng, let out a cheerful, high-pitched *"Quack-squeak!"*, and calmly reached into its waistcoat pocket with one wing. With a flourish that would have made a professional street performer proud, it pulled out a tiny, neatly folded parchment letter stamped with a blob of bright red wax shaped like a smiling pig’s snout.
Lu Feng stared down at the duck.
The duck stared up at Lu Feng.
Behind him, Han Lin leaned over his shoulder, her jaw dropping open in sheer disbelief. "Is... is that a courier duck? In the middle of an elite high-security estate in Crimson Vale?"
"Quack!" the duck squeaked again, aggressively shoving the tiny letter against Lu Feng’s boot to emphasize its importance.
Before Lu Feng could even process the surreal violation of his estate’s perimeter defenses, a loud, frantic commotion erupted from the outer courtyard gate.
"Stop that bird! Catch it! It stole the head accountant’s wig!"
A chorus of heavy footsteps and panicked shouting shattered the quiet night air.
Suddenly, a dozen of Lin Laifu’s elite estate guards—the very same men the loan shark boasted were trained to handle dangerous thugs and high-stakes security breaches—came barreling around the corner of the garden hedge in absolute, uncoordinated disarray.
Leading the charge was the head accountant, a balding, portly middle-aged man waving a broom frantically in the air while his bare head shone brightly under the moonlight.
"The beast! The cursed pink menace!" the accountant shrieked, pointing a trembling finger directly at the innocent-looking courier duck sitting on Lu Feng’s doorstep. "It broke into the administrative vault, ate three ledgers of high-value debts, slapped me across the face with a frozen fish, and flew out the window!"
The group of elite guards skidded to a chaotic, sliding halt right in front of Lu Feng’s villa, gasping for breath, tripping over their own leather boots, and tangling their long spears together in a pathetic knot of steel and fabric.
One guard tripped over a stone lantern, crashing headfirst into a decorative bush, while another spun around wildly and accidentally knocked his companion’s helmet off with his elbow.
The chubby pink duck let out a deeply judgmental, raspy honk, casually tucked the letter further under Lu Feng’s boot, and waddled two steps to the left to hide behind Ye Chenxue’s boots, treating the terrifying cultivator like its personal body-guard against the incompetent mob.
Ye Chenxue looked down at the pink bird clinging to her hem, then looked up at the groaning, tangled pile of elite guards on the lawn. The absolute, soul-crushing absurdity of the scene left the legendary ice-beauty utterly paralyzed. Her mouth opened slightly, but not a single sound came out. Her mind, accustomed to life-or-death sword duels and ancient demonic beasts, completely blue-screened trying to process the tactical threat of a pastry-loving courier duck.
Han Lin burst out into a sudden, uncontrollable fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as tears of absolute amusement streamed down her face.
"Oh—oh by the heavens!" Han Lin wheezed, leaning against the doorframe for support as she pointed at the shivering, tangled guards. "And here we thought Lin Laifu’s estate was a fortress of elite security! You have an army of trained martial artists getting defeated by a rogue, waistcoat-wearing bird!"
The head accountant puffed out his chest, gasping for air as he tried to maintain his fading dignity in front of the young nobles. "E-Esteemed guests! Please do not be alarmed! This... this is merely an invasive spiritual pest from the lower river districts! It has zero power, but infinite disrespect!"
"Quack!" the duck honked back defiantly, resting its wing casually on Ye Chenxue’s boot as if demanding a formal defense lawyer.
Lu Feng let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a profound headache began to form behind his eyes. He reached down, picked up the tiny wax-sealed letter from the floor, and broke the seal.
Inside was a single, clumsily scrawled note written in messy charcoal.
"Dear Sirs, your carriage wheel squeaks. Pay me one gold coin or I will teach your horses how to sing opera at three in the morning. Sincerely, The Duck."
Lu Feng stared at the paper, then slowly turned his gaze back to the frantic accountant and the pile of groaning guards.
For the first time since arriving in Crimson Vale City, the grand, calculated illusion of high-society intrigue completely evaporated, replaced by the chaotic, unpredictable reality of living next door to a lunatic bird.
"Get this bird off my boot," Ye Chenxue whispered, her voice dangerously flat, though her ears were burning bright red with suppressed mortification as the duck nuzzled its fluffy pink head against her ankle.
Lu Feng couldn’t help it—a wide, helpless grin broke across his face as he shook his head, holding up the ransom note for Han Lin to read.
"Well," Lu Feng chuckled, tossing a single copper coin down to bounce off the accountant’s boots. "It looks like our first official expense in Crimson Vale isn’t real estate or medicinal herbs... it’s poultry extortion."