Love letters are not allowed in the exorcism notebook!-Chapter 819 - 66 Mr. Xue, the Boss, is a Decent Man

Figuring out the truth about the Zhu family, the rest of the matters become 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 Medicine Hall nearby, providing timely treatment—they might yet survive.

Everyone who mentioned this matter felt deeply regretful.

Why save them at all?

This Boss Xue and Fourth Master Zhu both operated in the same 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 mentioned 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 enchantment...

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 metrics. 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 achievements. Then look at our situation, unable to open up the market, not even able to match those Puritans; it was downright shameful 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.

Sometimes, feeling market expansion too slow, they directly recruited local street performers, loafers, thugs, and rogues...

The precise methods and deeds of these people are hard to corroborate from historical records. After all, the Imperial Government would rather whitewash matters than properly document 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 time 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 come 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, seemed 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 time elapsed.

Wang Yunxiao arrived at the Medicine 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, doormen, and shop assistants—lay scattered across the Medicine Hall floor. His elderly parents were evidently already deceased, while others writhed on the ground clutching their stomachs.

The Medicine Hall’s Store Manager wore a mask and held a manure ladle as he shouted from afar, "Old Xue! Don’t blame me 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 remedy 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 abdomen still knotted in unbearable pain, he nevertheless regained some spirit. Disregarding his filth-covered self, Boss Xue kowtowed audibly to the outside.

"Aunt Mistress, spare my life! Aunt Mistress, spare me! I dare not—dare not anymore! Whatever you desire, you can have, just don’t take my miserable life!"

No response came.

Wang Yunxiao held his nose as he approached the Medicine 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 Medicine Hall’s Store Manager was evidently resourceful, even resorting to rustic folk remedies, yet he still hadn’t persuaded Boss Xue to seek treatment 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 Medicine Hall. How should I know anything about foreign methods?"

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 medicine 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 medicine.

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 medicine, 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 immediately 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 times, anyone walking the streets without braids and not being one of the Foreigners belonged to one of two groups: Fusang people—or Revolutionary Party members.

For some individuals, the latter was far more terrifying than the former.

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 come searching for the female flying thief, the one who left the Swallow Sect’s name behind."

The towering man arched an eyebrow. "Might I inquire which hero you might be?"

"I am her martial uncle."