Water Margin: Did we kill Zheng Tu today?

Chapter 1 I am Zhen Guanxi?!

Under the Zhuangyuan Bridge.

Under the blazing sun, the tall, sturdy man in the butcher shop was dozing on a recliner; he was none other than Zheng Tu, the shop's owner.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, a look of confusion flashing across them before turning into a bitter smile.

It turns out that the soul inside this body has changed, but it happens to have the same name and surname, and has ended up working as a butcher.

After realizing that he could never go back, Zheng Tu could only helplessly accept this fact.

He rubbed his strong arms and sighed inwardly, "A butcher is a butcher, so be it. Though I can't compare to kings and generals, at least I have a business and won't have to worry about food and clothing..."

Just as he was pondering this, he suddenly heard a shout coming from the knife table: "You damned bastard! There's at least two ounces of lean meat still hanging on this bone. Are you going to leave it for wild dogs to gnaw on?"

It turned out to be the old knife master reprimanding his apprentice.

Zheng Tu ignored them and simply imitated the original owner's appearance, picking up a palm-leaf fan and waving it leisurely. While watching the dozen or so butchers selling meat, he carefully sorted through his old and new memories in his mind.

Just then, a series of earth-shaking footsteps came from the bridgehead.

Looking up, one could see a soldier striding towards them: he had a round face, large ears, a straight nose, a square mouth, and a thick, pungent beard. He was eight feet tall and had a waist ten spans wide, looking just like a black bear in disguise.

Although the pace was slow, they arrived in no time.

The soldier approached the shop and shouted in a booming voice, "Zheng Tu! Why didn't you come to greet me when I, the commander, arrived?"

At this moment, Zheng Tu's heart skipped a beat.

This scene, these faces, this momentum—why does it all seem so familiar?

"This soldier certainly knows how to put on airs," Zheng Tu muttered to himself.

As the saying goes, the common people cannot fight against the officials.

Although he couldn't immediately recall who the man was, he put on a smile and hurriedly cupped his hands in apology: "Please forgive me, Commander, I was just lost in thought. Please come inside!"

He then instructed the waiter to prepare the tea.

Lu Zhishen sat down casually, leaned his staff against the wall, and glared, saying, "By order of the Grand Marshal: I need ten catties of lean meat, chopped into minced meat, with not a single bit of fat on it!"

Zheng Tu listened from the side, but the more he listened, the more he felt that something was wrong.

When those last few words reached his ears, Zheng Tu was suddenly jolted, and the palm-leaf fan in his hand slammed to the ground.

The Flower Monk uprooted a willow tree, and Lu Zhishen punched the bully of Zhenguan!

What a fine Lu Zhishen! What a fine Zheng Tu!

It turns out that I was the one who died in three punches!

Zheng Tu's face turned white, then green, then white again. His Adam's apple bobbed twice before he finally asked with difficulty, "Commander... do you wish me to personally cut it for the General?"

Upon hearing this, Lu Da thought to himself, "How did this fellow know? Could it be that he saw through my plan?"

A surge of anger welled up within him, and he glared at her with eyes like copper bells, blurting out, "You son of a bitch! Do you expect me to do the chopping block for you instead of cutting yourself?"

Zheng Tu, startled by the shout, knew he was in trouble. He forced a smile and said, "Commander, please calm down! I misspoke. I'll cut it myself, I'll cut it myself!"

Without delay, he quickly went to the meat counter and picked out a large piece of lean meat.

Although these hands were strong, Zheng Tu had a different internal structure and was no longer the old butcher who was used to wielding a knife. After cutting only three or four pounds, his wrists started to ache and the blade began to slant.

The minced meat was cut into pieces as large as dates and as small as beans, with the most mushy parts turning into minced meat paste.

Lu Da watched coldly from the side, his face growing increasingly grim.

"What a bitter pill to swallow!" Zheng Tu cried out in his heart.

Seeing Zheng Tu's forehead beaded with sweat and his arms trembling, Lu Da suddenly slammed his fist on the table and stood up, cursing, "You son of a bitch! Are you deliberately trying to make fun of me?"

Zheng Tu hurriedly waved his hand: "Commander, please allow me to report..."

Before he could finish speaking, his collar was grabbed by a large, iron-like hand, and he was lifted off the ground and forcibly pulled out from behind the meat counter!

Lu Da's beard and hair bristled, his breath hitting his face: "You damned dog! The marshal ordered this minced meat, and you dare to treat it like this? What kind of shoddy stuff did you cut?!"

Grabbing Zheng Tu with one hand and raising his fist the size of a vinegar jar with the other, he shouted, "I rose from humble beginnings to become the Inspector of the Five Routes of Guanzhong, and my title as the 'Zhen Guanxi' (meaning 'Suppressor of Guanzhong') is well-deserved. You, a butcher wielding a knife and selling meat, a dog-like man, do you even deserve to be called the 'Zhen Guanxi'? Speak! How did you forcibly deceive Jin Cuilian!"

Zheng Tu was terrified and was about to argue when the fist arrived with a gust of wind.

"Bang!"

With a thud, a punch landed squarely on his nose, causing blood to gush out and his nose to be crooked to one side. It was as if a sauce and oil shop had been opened, with salty, sour, and spicy flavors all gushing out at once.

Zheng Tu's ears were ringing, and he was furious. He had somehow transmigrated to this place and was being beaten like this for no reason. It was outrageous!

For a moment, he felt no pain and hissed, "Damn it, well done!"

Lu Da, enraged, laughed coldly: "You dare to answer back!"

The second punch landed squarely on his brow.

The blows cracked his eyelids, and his pupils burst out, as if a colorful silk shop had opened, with red, black, and crimson colors rolling out.

In an instant, the world turned upside down. Zheng Tu collapsed beside the meat counter. As his anger subsided, the pain began to strike. He could no longer bear it and began to beg for mercy.

"Pah!" Lu Da spat in his face. "You worthless wretch! If you had stuck to your guns, I might have spared you. Since you're begging for mercy—"

The third punch landed on his temple like a drumbeat.

The last thing Zheng Tu heard was the crisp sound of his skull shattering, like thousands of bells and chimes ringing in his mind.

[Zheng Tu, died! 】

Survival days: 0 days

……

half an hour.

The soul seemed to slowly rise from the bottom of a deep pool.

Zheng Tu suddenly opened his eyes and found himself still under the Zhuangyuan Bridge, where the old butcher was cursing his apprentice at the butcher's stall: "You damned killer! There's at least two ounces of lean meat still hanging on this bone..."

He trembled violently and hurriedly touched his face: his nose was intact, his eyes were still there, and he had no severe pain in his temples.

The excruciating pain of those three fatal punches felt like a nightmare.

Looking towards the bridgehead again, you can vaguely see the figure of a soldier walking towards you from a distance!

Without a second thought, Zheng Tu immediately shouted at the dozen or so butchers in the shop, "Stop what you're doing! Chop ten catties of lean minced meat, ten catties of fatty minced meat, and also ten catties of tender cartilage, finely chopped into minced meat!"

The shop fell silent for a moment.

The dozen or so knife-wielders looked at each other, wondering why their master was suddenly ordering them around like this.

The assistant, Niu Da, stepped forward, clasped his hands in greeting, and asked, "Manager, what are these three kinds of meat sauce for? It's not mealtime yet, and no one has placed an order..."

Zheng Tu's heart tightened. Mimicking the original owner's tone, he glared and scolded, "Just cut it when I tell you to! Don't ask any questions! If you're even a fraction of a second slower, you'll regret it!"

Niu Da's face turned pale at the shout, and he nodded sheepishly, replying "Yes," while inwardly cursing, "What's gotten into this guy today, making fun of us like this!"

But he dared not delay, turning to the crowd and shouting, "Did you all hear that? Get to work now!"

The dozen or so knife-wielders each took a sharp knife and divided into three groups.

One group selects the lean, tender meat, removes the tendons and membranes, and finely chops it on a cutting board. Another group chooses the fatty, white meat, slices it as thin as paper, and then finely minces it. The third group is the most laborious, as the cartilage is extremely hard and must be repeatedly pounded with a heavy knife before it can be chopped into small pieces.

While supervising the construction, Zheng Tu would occasionally turn around and gaze towards the Zhuangyuan Bridge.

A burly, bear-like figure slowly made its way towards the butcher shop, taking one step at a time.

They'll be at the door in no time; they probably can't wait even for half an incense stick!