A butcher’s cleaver cuts through the imperial court and the martial world.
His father died outside the county courthouse, and only then did he understand: in this world, an honest man is worth less than a pig.
In open court, he snatched a blade and killed seven men, then carved a message in blood on the wall: “The killer is Chen Jiujin. Every debt has its debtor.”
From then on, he fled for his life with a butcher’s cleaver on his back.
“I don’t accept fate. I only trust the cleaver in my hand.”
The rules of the martial world and the schemes of the imperial court are no match for one thing he says:
Anyone who stands in the way of my revenge dies.
From butcher to general, from pawn to player.
This blade doesn’t slaughter pigs. It cuts down a world that devours its own.
