The splendor of the Red Chamber, the power that reigns supreme.

Chapter 157 The Official Gets His Revenge [Bonus Chapter, Seeking Monthly Tickets]

The next day, it was already broad daylight. The sun climbed up the window lattice and shone brightly on Ximen Da Guanren's face.

He took a nap yesterday afternoon and tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Around midnight, he went to the back garden to practice his fists and feet a few times before finally being able to go back to his room to rest.

After getting up, he discovered that Dai'an, who had been sleeping on the floor behind the screen in the front hall, had disappeared without a trace.

Ximen Da Guanren slipped on his shoes and walked to the door to look around.

Dai'an was dozing off against a pillar, probably dreaming of something delicious, with drool dripping half a foot long and glistening at the corner of his mouth.

Meng Keli was startled by the official's thunderous roar, "You dog!" He nearly fell down the steps. In a panic, he scrambled to his feet, bursting open the door and repeatedly calling out, "Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Is Uncle awake?"

The official kicked him in the buttocks: "Why aren't you sleeping on the warm kang? Why are you lying here in this drafty place like a corpse? Are you itching for a beating?"

Dai'an rubbed his buttocks and said with a forced smile, "I don't know why, but lying in the room feels like sleeping in an ice cellar. I have no idea where to go."

The official laughed and scolded, "You born with a lowly nature! Now get up and fetch me some water to wash my face!"

Upon receiving the pardon, Dai Anru scrambled to his feet: "I'll go right away! I'll be there in a minute!" With that, he darted out like a ball.

After the official finished washing and grooming.

The young maid, Xiao Tao, quietly lifted the curtain and entered, carrying a red lacquered and gold-painted tray.

On the plate was a bowl of bright green, thick rice porridge, several steamed buns, and a few small dishes of delicate side dishes: finely sliced ​​pickled cucumber strips, tender bamboo shoots tossed in sesame oil, and a dish of pickled radish, the shreds cut even finer than hair.

"My lord, please have breakfast." Xiao Tao's voice was tender and soft, her eyelids drooping, not daring to lift them.

Ximen Da Guanren sat down in his chair, picked up the ivory chopsticks with silver tips, fiddled with the dishes, and casually asked, "Is this something the kitchen has just prepared? It looks quite refreshing."

Xiao Tao smiled and replied, "My lord, this was sent by the kitchen staff from the young lady's room in the back. They said they saw that you drank too much the other day and were worried that it might upset your stomach, so they specially instructed the kitchen to prepare some light food for you to replenish your energy."

"Hmm, it's kind of her to be so thoughtful. Please thank her for me." The official scooped up a spoonful of lukewarm rice porridge and put it in his mouth. The rice was fragrant and sweet, and it was indeed soothing to his stomach. As he was eating, he suddenly heard a faint singing voice drifting from the direction of the exquisite embroidered building in the backyard.

At first, the sound was as thin as a spider's thread, as soft as a mosquito's buzz, trembling and floating in the morning breeze. Gradually, the sound rose higher, clear and melodious, like the first cry of a fledgling phoenix. When the song ended, there were a few lingering "ee-ee-ya-ya-" sounds, long and distinct.

Before long, the melodious sound of the pipa joined in, like pearls falling onto a jade plate or a clear spring flowing through a stream, harmonizing perfectly with the delicate singing voice, making one's heart itch.

Master Ximen, holding his bowl of porridge, listened intently for a while, a smile involuntarily creeping onto his lips. This Li Shishi truly deserves to be called the top courtesan in the capital!
Outsiders only see her as a dazzling beauty, easily earning a fortune for a single song, but little do they know that the foundation of this glamorous image lies in her relentless, day-to-day practice, through scorching summers and freezing winters. This tenacity and tenacity surpasses even many self-proclaimed strong men.

He took a sip of porridge and thought to himself: No wonder this courtesan was able to establish herself firmly in the chaotic capital city and earn such a great reputation. She certainly didn't rely on just her pretty face.

After breakfast, Ximen Qing was full of energy and went out with Dai'an.

The master and servant mounted their horses and galloped through the early morning streets, their hooves clattering as they headed straight for the local militia headquarters in the capital.

Along the way, the official had already noticed something unusual. In the past, the more prosperous and important a place in the capital, the more likely those hooligans and scoundrels would gather.

Especially the open area in front of the government office, which has become their lair! In groups of three or five, they squat or stand, chewing on straws, squinting at passersby, shouting and yelling, their village dialect full of barbs, making a racket that hurts your ears.

But today, the streets are unusually quiet! Those sleazy scoundrels with their stern faces, bare chests, and groveling faces who used to beg for money in the market seem to have vanished into thin air.

Occasionally, one or two timid idlers would catch a glimpse of Ximen Qing riding a tall horse and accompanied by his servants from afar. They would immediately dart into the nearby alleyways like mice seeing a cat, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

On the wide street, only a few honest pedestrians and vendors remained, and even those who used to shout their wares had lowered their voices, appearing somewhat cautious.

Ximen Qing observed this and thought to himself, "This must be the effect of yesterday's martial law, which intimidated these spineless crabs."

Little did they know that the real "credit" belonged mostly to Dai'an, who followed closely behind them.

Before long, the two black-lacquered gates of the local militia headquarters came into view. Compared to the bustling scene of the past, when the gate was always crowded with hooligans and hangers-on, buzzing around the entrance like flies to filth, the entrance was now as deserted as a dilapidated temple without incense!

The two doors were ajar, but the usual sycophantic figures who used to come and go, bowing and scraping, eagerly seeking information and passing on connections, were nowhere to be seen.

Even the guards at the gate were slack off, holding their fire-and-water sticks tucked under their arms, leaning against the cold stone door frame, their eyelids drooping, as if they were dozing off or their souls were wandering elsewhere.

Ximen Qing dismounted, casually tossed the reins to Dai'an, and straightened his clothes. Looking up, he saw a small group of hangers-on huddled in the shadows in a corner opposite the yamen.

About seven or eight of them were huddled together in a sheltered corner against the wall, their heads pressed close together, whispering amongst themselves about some shady business.

The sound was extremely low, like a swarm of crickets chirping in the grass, a soft, intermittent murmur, with only occasional fragments carried on the wind, indistinct and barely audible.

As Ximen Da Guanren glanced at the desolate and filthy scene at the entrance of the yamen, his brows furrowed into a knot.

Chao Dai'an beckoned, and the boy immediately scurried over to the front of the horse. The official bent down and mumbled a series of instructions.

Dai'an nodded repeatedly like a chicken pecking at rice, its eyes darting around, clearly understanding its master's meaning.

After giving the order, Ximen Qing did not dismount, but pointed his whip diagonally across from the militia headquarters—there stood a two-story restaurant.

He pulled on the reins himself and strode over. The bartender, seeing the gleaming coat of the horse and the wealthy man's attire, hurried over to greet him. He had the groom lead the horse over and, bowing and scraping, led the man to a bright, spacious room upstairs facing the street.

The gentleman didn't order any wine or food, but simply asked for a pot of hot tea. After the waiter left, he took out a large silver ingot from his pocket, which looked like a small, heavy gold ingot.

Ximen Da Guanren held it in his palm, and with a flick of his fingers, the silver ingot began to spin around in his hand, just like a restless mouse.

He subtly strained his wrists, the muscles slightly tense, clearly practicing his "Featherless Arrow" wrist technique. His eyes, however, seemed to be glancing casually towards the direction of the yamen entrance, waiting for what would happen next.

About the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the staircase creaked loudly. There came the sound of Dai'an, that little rascal, leading three people, panting as they climbed the stairs.

The three men stopped abruptly in the distance, shrinking into the shadows of the stairwell like quails, not daring to take a single step closer. Dai'an hurried a few steps alone, then, with a hunched back, approached the high official. He half-covered his mouth with his hand, lowered his voice, and whispered with a mixture of smugness and obsequiousness:

"Reporting to my esteemed father, as you instructed, I searched diligently for a long time and finally managed to find these three treasures! Don't let their timid appearance fool you, they're all seasoned hangers-on from the yamen! They may lack formal education, but they know the ins and outs of the streets and the shady dealings within the yamen like the back of their hand! They're the most knowledgeable about everything in the capital!"

Master Ximen twirled the heavy silver ingot between his fingers, his eyelids slightly raised, a hint of testing in his voice, and slowly asked:

"Oh?" He gestured towards the three sycophants at the stairwell. "I'd like to hear how you know they're so well-informed."

Upon hearing his master's inquiry, Dai'an instinctively straightened his back, a "well done" smile spreading across his face, and said crisply:

"Replying to you, Uncle, I'm quite clever! The capital is a mixed bag; how can you tell the truth just by looking at appearances? I'll test them one by one on the most difficult things to find out in the capital—those hidden matters!"

"Oh? A secret matter?" Ximen Qing raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, his hand spinning the silver ingot slightly faster, a playful smile curving his lips, a smile that contained three parts curiosity and seven parts mischief:

"That's a novel approach. I knew you had some secrets up your sleeve. Tell me, what 'secrets' are you testing? Let me... see for myself?"

Having received this "open your eyes" from his master, Dai'an could no longer contain his smugness. His eyebrows danced with delight, and his voice rose in a self-satisfied tone as he exclaimed, "Hey! Isn't that easy? I'll just ask them one by one—"

He cleared his throat, as if issuing a decree:

"One! 'What's the name of the most favored and gracefully swaying head maidservant of Li Xingshou?'"

"Two! 'Just in which nook and cranny of Sweetwater Lane is her fairy-tale-like boudoir located? Does it face east or west?'"

"Three! 'Does Li, the head of the merchant's household, admire the opulence of peonies or the elegance of orchids when he wears flowers in his hair?'"

“Four! And then there’s her looks and figure…” Dai’an’s voice suddenly dropped as he got to this crucial point, carrying a hint of excitement at sharing a secret, yet also an undisguised sense of pride:

"'How beautiful is she? How does she compare to Xi Shi in the painting? That waist... tsk tsk, is it as slender as a willow or as plump as Yang Guifei?' Hehe, Uncle, you are the best judge. This is the best test to see if they have truly seen the world or if they are just talking nonsense based on hearsay!"

The playful smile on Ximen Da Guanren's face froze instantly, and the fingers holding the silver ingot suddenly stopped.

The flesh on his cheek twitched, as if he wanted to laugh but found it absurd, wanted to curse but felt at a loss for words, and finally turned into a sigh that was both laughable and lamentable:

"Well... well, what a fine example of 'applying what you've learned'! Chief Li kindly took us in for the night, but it's actually broadened your horizons by selling out the private affairs of women. You've put all this 'knowledge' into practice!"

Dai'an shrank his neck and just kept chuckling awkwardly.

The official rubbed his throbbing temples and waved his hand, "Alright, alright! Bring the person over here."

The three hangers-on were beckoned over and moved in front of the high-ranking official. They all hunched over, not daring to breathe loudly.

Master Ximen didn't even lift his eyelids, still fiddling with the silver ingot, and said slowly and deliberately:

"I'm in a bit of a leisurely mood today and would like to hear about some of the 'rare sights' in the capital. No matter how remote or secluded, as long as it's 'remote' and 'quiet' enough, places that ordinary officials and yamen runners wouldn't bother to even lift a finger to look around in, you can all tell me about them. Whoever knows the most and can explain it thoroughly..."

He weighed the silver ingot in his palm, it made a heavy thud, "This thing... it's a bit heavy!"

These words were more effective than a whip; the three sycophants immediately raised their quail-like heads, their murky eyes gleaming with greed.

One of the thin men, with a shifty face and a few strands of yellow beard, reacted the fastest, bending over backwards and plastering a fawning smile on his face, as if afraid someone else would beat him to it:

"My lord, please forgive me! If you're talking about 'free and unfettered places' that even immortals would find disgusting and officials would avoid, we actually know a few such places!"

He counted on his dirty fingers, as if reciting a familiar story: "The first one is that alley over there, also known as 'Lazy Man's Village'! This place is right next to the western city wall. It used to be a dilapidated barracks left behind by the previous dynasty's garrison. Now... hehe, it has become the biggest den of rats and hooligans in the capital!"

"Not only are there countless hooligans, but also all sorts of scoundrels and depraved individuals! They specialize in sheltering deserters, convicts, gamblers who owe the King of Hell, and prostitutes who have lost everything! There are more shady places inside than rat holes, with privately run gambling dens operating day and night, and hidden and openly operated dens for selling stolen goods!"

"Because there were too many people, the officials would arrest so many that the prisons couldn't hold them all. In addition, they didn't come to the market to cause trouble, so the government never bothered with this place. They wouldn't even go in for a stroll for ten days or half a month!"

"Firstly, the place is too remote and dilapidated, so there's not much profit to be made; secondly, there are too many desperate criminals inside, and if they really get pushed to the limit, they'll band together and cause trouble, which will make everyone look bad! Let's just treat it as a large latrine, as long as the stench doesn't overflow and offend the important people, we'll just let it rot at the base of the wall!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a short, stout man with a bruise on his face, fearing that the benefits would be monopolized, hurriedly interrupted, spitting as he spoke:
"Brother Huang is right! And those alleyways! Sounds like a respectable place? Bah! Sir, don't be fooled by the name! This place is hidden deep within those seemingly orderly residential alleys in the southern part of the city! On the surface, every household keeps their doors closed and behaves themselves, but in reality... hehe!"

The fat man lowered his voice, speaking with a hint of mystery, "Seven or eight out of ten businesses run a 'ghost market'! What's a ghost market? It's a place that opens in the dead of night, selling all sorts of shady stuff! Stolen silk from the government treasury, funerary objects dug up from graves, lost maids and boys from wealthy families, and even... 'flesh ginseng' that's barely dead and not even cold yet!"

"Both buyers and sellers are cloaked and carry tiny, flickering lamps. They exchange money for goods and disperse at dawn, faster than ghosts! The authorities are aware of this, but firstly, it's difficult to catch them in the act, and secondly, this area involves... very deep waters!"

"Many of these places have powerful local figures protecting them, so when the officials go in, it's usually just a formality—like a cat playing with a mouse. Who's really willing to put in the effort to stir up a hornet's nest? They just turn a blind eye and let everyone have some peace and quiet!"

The third hanger-on was a middle-aged man with a sallow complexion and darting eyes. Seeing that the two had finished speaking, he quickly chimed in, his voice shrill: "What you two brothers have described is the filth on the ground. Let me add something from underground for you, sir! —The Worry-Free Cave!"

"Doesn't the name sound auspicious? But this is the underground network of sewers and culverts beneath our capital city, a place where thousands of troops could be hidden! It's so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face, and it stinks so badly it could knock you over! Yet, it has become the most lawless 'Worry-Free Kingdom' in the capital!"

"It's full of hooligans and harbors quite a few notorious bandits! And those kidnapped women and children are often stuffed into this godforsaken place where there's no sunlight!"

“It’s a world unto itself inside. The ruffians all have leaders and rules. This Worry-Free Cave is a malignant tumor in the gut of the capital. Everyone knows it, but no one dares to touch it or wants to touch it! Let it rot and stink in the gutter!”

The three hangers-on, one after the other, exposed the festering sores beneath the glamorous facade of the capital city.

Ximen Qing listened with no expression on his face, but the fingers that had been twisting the silver ingot stopped at some point.

The three hangers-on were talking until their throats were dry, their eyes fixed on the silver ingot in Ximen Qing's hand, calculating how much they could get their share.

Master Ximen, however, seemed oblivious to their gluttonous expressions. He slightly raised his eyelids, his gaze sweeping over the three men's faces. His fingers, which had been fiddling with the silver ingot, paused, and he spoke slowly. His voice was not loud, but it sent a chill down the spines of the three hangers-on:
"Hmm... these filthy places sound rather interesting. Let me ask you one more question," he paused, his eyes suddenly sharpening, piercing like needles.
"In this capital city, which group of ruffians associates more closely with the local militia and yamen (local security agencies)? Hmm?" Ximen Qing emphasized the words "associates more closely," carrying an unspoken implication.

The three hangers-on exchanged glances, their eyes conveying a sense of "they really hit the nail on the head," while also showing some nervousness.

It was still the skinny man with the weasel-like face who reacted the fastest. He licked his chapped lips, glanced quickly to the left and right as if afraid of being overheard, before taking a half-step closer, his voice so low it was practically squeezed out of his throat:
"Reporting to...Reporting to my lord! If we're talking about the 'most' 'connections,' the first place...is none other than that alley! Especially deep in the alley, there's a rascal nicknamed 'Bastard Three'!"

"This bastard... has dozens of thugs under his command, all of them tough scoundrels and down-on-their-luck! The top casinos in the capital, both overt and covert, are all run by 'Bald Three's' men!"

He caught his breath and continued, "This scoundrel San is just a lowly ruffian leader; he naturally couldn't get in touch with the Kaifeng Prefecture. But somehow he's managed to befriend some of the officials in charge of the local militia and baojia (local security) offices! We heard..."

The skinny man leaned closer, almost touching the corner of Ximen Qing's robe: "The brothers from the local militia and baojia yamen who patrol the streets and check the night in Bianzi Lane get a 'shoe sole money' from 'Badhead San' every month! During festivals, they even send him a thick 'ice and charcoal tribute'!"

The short, fat man next to him nodded in agreement: "Brother Huang is right! I've also heard rumors that 'Bald Third' has found a godfather in the local militia and yamen, that is, the magistrate in charge of hand-held weapons, and he's been very active in getting to know him!"

Ximen Da Guanren listened, his face remaining expressionless, but his fingers, which were holding the silver ingot, tapped it almost imperceptibly. He nodded slightly and let out a vague "hmm" through his nose.

"understood."

Before he finished speaking, the official casually flicked his wrist, and the silver ingot, which had been warm from being handled, along with a few loose silver coins, clattered as he tossed it onto the blue brick ground in front of his three henchmen.

"Here, buy a bowl of tea to soothe your throat."

The silver coin landed and rolled a few times. The eyes of the three hangers-on were instantly drawn to that glittering silver. Forgetting all decorum, they almost simultaneously knelt down and frantically scrambled for it, all the while fawning and thanking them.

Ximen Da Guanren no longer looked at them, as if he had only thrown a few pebbles. His eyelids drooped again, and he resumed his lazy and indifferent appearance, only giving a light instruction to Dai'an, who was standing to the side, "Send them out."

The official dismissed the three lackeys, his expression remaining calm and composed, but he turned to Dai'an and muttered a few words in a low voice.

In less than half an hour, Dai'an returned like a ghost, carrying two objects in his arms—the deep-brimmed Fanyang hats commonly worn by镖师 (bodyguards) and 马班汉 (caravan men), with the brim pulled low and two thick black veils hanging down to the base of his neck.

"Master, everything is ready." Dai'an's throat tightened slightly. The official grunted and picked up a hat, putting it on his head. The black veil fell down, instantly obscuring his shrewd and calculating face into darkness.

He adjusted the brim of his hat slightly, finding no flaws in his appearance, and then gestured towards Dai'an with his lip.

"Let's go to the entrance of Bianzi Alley."

The master and servant rode their horse to the edge of the western city. They dismounted and led the horse, deliberately choosing shady alleys to travel through. The closer they got to the "lazy village" at the edge of the western city, the more unpleasant the stench became.

When Ximen Da Guanren reached the alley entrance, he looked around cautiously, as the saying goes: A wise man does not stand under a dangerous wall.

Naturally, he couldn't easily enter such an unfamiliar place. He only glanced around and saw a ruffian squatting against the wall, basking in the sun, with centipede-like scars crawling on his face.

Ximen Da Guanren strolled over, a hand extending from under his black veil, a piece of silver tucked between his fingers, which he waved in front of the scarred rogue. The silver gleamed brightly in the dim light.

Scarface's murky eyes immediately glued to the silver, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Go," the official's voice muffled by the black veil, carrying a foreign accent, not loud but exuding an undeniable authority, "call over Lai Tou San. Tell him there's a great fortune to be given to him in person."

He paused, then gestured with his chin toward a greasy, tattered "Wang's Teahouse" across the alley. "I'm waiting for him in a private room on the second floor. This money is a reward for your errands and for buying tea."

The scarred ruffian snatched the silver, stuffed it into his mouth, and crunched it down hard, leaving a white mark on his yellow teeth. He then put on a fawning smile: "Sir, you're so generous! I'll go and invite Third Brother right away! Please have a seat in the private room upstairs, hot tea will be here shortly!"

Having said that, he darted like a rabbit into the depths of the smoky alley.

Ximen Qing, accompanied by Dai'an, strolled leisurely into Wang's Teahouse.

The moment the teahouse owner saw the two gentlemen with their heads covered in black veils, his heart tightened, and he hurriedly led them up the creaking, dilapidated wooden stairs.

Pushing open the door to the only so-called "private room" on the second floor—it was nothing more than a slightly quieter corner separated by a half-screen. The tables and chairs were greasy, and the air still smelled of cheap tobacco and sweat left by previous guests.

A short while later, the staircase rattled loudly, making the floorboards tremble. The curtain to the private room was flung open by a large, hairy hand, and a person barged in first.

It was indeed that bald-headed San! His bald head was covered with several shiny bald scalps the size of copper coins. His chest was open, revealing tattoos and black hair. His triangular eyes, like those of a venomous snake, scanned Ximen Qing and his servant, who were veiled in black gauze.

Five or six burly thugs followed in from behind, each with fierce eyes and bulging waists, clearly carrying weapons. They instantly filled the small private room, filling it with a stench of sweat and a menacing atmosphere.

"Which God of Wealth is putting on such airs, specifically asking to see me, Lai Tou San?" Lai Tou San brazenly plopped down opposite Ximen Qing, his hairy leg slamming onto the bench next to him with a loud thud, making the rough porcelain teacups on the table vibrate.

His gaze, like a dull knife scraping a grinding wheel, filled with probing suspicion, scrutinized the official from head to toe, sparking with curiosity.

The hooligans behind him, some with their arms crossed and sneering, others with their hands on their hips and bellies puffed out, all had eyes like poisoned fishhooks, hooked tightly at Master Ximen and his servant, wishing they could tear a hole through the black veil.

Through the dim black veil, Ximen Da Guanren could clearly see the sullen, unyielding posture of Lai Tou San.

He clasped his hands in a fist salute, deliberately infusing his Qinghe County accent with an barely suppressed malice: "Third Master! I... have come from Qinghe County! I have a huge deal to offer you, Third Master!"

Lai Tou San tilted his shiny, scaly head slightly, a forced smile on his face: "Oh? Qinghe County?...Hehe, tell me about it!"

"I have a blood feud with someone!" Ximen Qing's throat tightened suddenly, as if he were forcing down boiling oil:
"I am a distant nephew of the wealthy Zhang family in Qinghe County! There was a damned scoundrel who, relying on his sycophancy towards the government, used despicable means to seize the foundation of my Zhang family's silk shop! He caused my family to be ruined and my ancestral property to be lost! If I don't avenge this, I will have no face to meet my ancestors in the afterlife!"

He took a deep breath, as if his heart was on fire, and continued, "I only recently received definite news! That scoundrel has a shipment of extremely important Suzhou and Hangzhou valuables and southern goods, which is being transported to the capital from the south by land! It will happen within the next three to five days! I... I am outnumbered and outmatched, and I wish I could tear him apart alive, but... I can do nothing about it!"

The official's voice was filled with a desperate and ruthless intensity.

"I've only heard that you, Third Master, have connections that reach the heavens, and that even the entire capital city trembles when you stomp your foot! Every one of your brothers is a hero capable of overturning rivers and seas and raising flags and firing cannons! That's why I'm risking my life to come and beg you, Third Master!"

Ximen Da Guanren lowered his body even further, his posture humbled to the dust, "I beg you, Third Master, to use swift and decisive means to rob that shipment for me! After it's done, the goods will all belong to you, Third Master, and I won't take a single penny!"

"I only ask that we cut off that scoundrel's shop's lifeline of income, and see him suffer a crushing defeat, covered in dust and grime! I'll also prepare five hundred taels of pure snowflake silver, as a token to buy Third Master and all the heroes a bowl of farewell wine!"

The last few words were spoken through gritted teeth, filled with boundless hatred.

Lai Tou San listened quietly, his large, palm-leaf-fan-like hand unconsciously rubbing the leather sheath of the dagger at his waist until it gleamed with oil.

Those triangular eyes, peering through the heavy black veil, were like two cold, venomous snakes' tongues, repeatedly licking and coiling around Ximen Da Guanren's body, as if trying to pierce through the fabric to discern the truth from the falsehood.

The thugs behind him, upon hearing the words "robbery," "five hundred taels of silver," and "severance wine," stared wide-eyed, their throats gurgling, and in the exchange of glances, the flames of greed leaped upwards.

"What's your enemy's name? Which gang's Buddha is he?" Lai Tou San's voice suddenly turned cold, like a block of ice hitting him.

A chilling smile played on Ximen Qing's lips, hidden behind a black veil, but his voice was filled with deep-seated hatred: "This scoundrel... is called Ximen Qing! A simple inquiry in Qinghe County will reveal that he is known as 'Master Ximen'!"

"Hiss—!" "Ximen Qing?!" The ruffians gasped as if boiling oil had been poured on their feet. The greed on their faces froze instantly, turning into a pale and bewildered expression.

As Ximen Da Guanren coldly observed the sudden change in the faces of these ruffians, his suspicions became crystal clear – it was indeed this gang of thieves who had stabbed him!

After a long silence, the bald-headed man let out a heavy "humph" through his nose, like a broken bellows leaking air: "Heh... Master Ximen's 'old acquaintance'... Master Zhang's nephew? Hmm... not a 'good match' indeed!"

"You did a good job!" He leaned forward abruptly, his oppressive aura, a mixture of sweat and menacing presence, assaulting Ximen Qing's face. "But... this kind of work is like dancing on a knife's edge, or scrambling for money in a vat of boiling oil! Let me go back and weigh myself, feel my bones, and have a word with the brothers!"

He grabbed the chipped, rough porcelain teacup on the table, ignoring the scalding heat, and gulped it down in one go. The smell of alcohol mixed with tea foam dripped from the corner of his mouth, which he hastily wiped away with his sleeve.
"Tomorrow at noon! Still at this Wang's Teahouse, I'll come again to hear the commotion! If it works out, you'll be rich and powerful; if not, I'll leave you with a frank statement!"

"Thank you, Third Master. I await your good news!" Master Ximen feigned gratitude and bowed deeply to the ground once more.

Without another word, Lai Tou San suddenly stood up, pulled back his hairy leg that was kicking the bench, and the bench crashed to the ground.

He tilted his shiny, bald head at his men and said, "Let's go!" Five or six hooligans, like demons granted a pardon, surrounded him with a loud "boom," making the broken wooden stairs creak and thud as they swept down the stairs like a whirlwind.

There were a few tea drinkers peeking around downstairs, but they were so frightened that they ran away in a panic, some crawling under the tables, others scurrying along the walls. In an instant, only the pale-faced shopkeeper remained in the tea stall.

After the group of ruffians left the teahouse...

A burly ruffian nicknamed "Rolling Meat" couldn't contain himself any longer and shouted, "Third Brother! It's like the God of Wealth is knocking on our door! We just ate a bite of that Ximen Qing's fatty meat, and the grease hasn't even been wiped off yet! This time, we brothers are going to harvest another batch of fat leeks and make a fortune..."

"Slap!" Before the words were even finished, the bald man slapped the "stubborn meat" across the face with a backhand slap! The force was heavy and fierce, causing the guy to stagger and spit out blood with a "pfft". Half of his face visibly swelled up, and blood seeped from between his yellow teeth.

"You idiot!" The bald-headed triangular man's eyes flashed with ferocity, his voice as cold as the winds of the deepest hell:

"There's no such thing as a free lunch. As the saying goes, 'When a dog carries a meat bun through an alley, beware of someone wielding a stick behind it!'"

"You fool, blinded by lard! How do you know those two men in straw hats are really Zhang the landlord's nephews? And that they really have a blood feud with Ximen Qing?!"

"Rolling-back Meat" clutched his swollen cheek, his eyes wide and bewildered, "Third...Third Brother? He...his words were so detailed and coherent..."

"Pah!" The bald-headed man spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the ground, his knuckles cracking as he pinched walnuts, veins bulging.

"Branches and leaves? Seamless? What a load of bull! This city of Beijing is teeming with corrupt officials and scoundrels! Bianzi Alley, Wuyou Cave, aren't they all places where ruthless devils devour people? Yet he's fixated on me, this clay idol?"

"Hmm?" His triangular eyes flashed with a fierce light as he suddenly approached "Roller of the Knife," spitting almost onto his face. "Or is it... that this bastard knows everything! He knows that I just robbed that Master Ximen's 'tribute' silver?!"

He stopped in his tracks, his triangular eyes like poisoned daggers, slicing across the faces of the trembling ruffians: "Who knows! This whole charade was just bait set by that scoundrel Ximen Qing! Trying to probe my innermost thoughts? Or perhaps... he dug a pit, just waiting for me to jump in?!"

The ruffians felt a chill rush from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads, the hairs on the back of their spines stood on end, and their teeth chattered uncontrollably.

"Then...then...Third Brother, what...what should we do?" "Rolling Meat" was speechless.

Lai Tou San suddenly stopped, the venomous fire mixed with cunning in his triangular eyes suddenly igniting into two will-o'-the-wisps. His mouth grinned, revealing a savage smile like an owl pouncing on its prey.

"What to do? Heh heh... Even if he really is a hook set up by Ximen Qing, specifically to lure me in... I'm not afraid of a damn thing!"

His arms were bulging with muscles, and his five fingers clenched like iron pincers! "Crack—!" The pair of walnuts in his palm, polished smooth and shiny, were crushed into pieces by his grip! The crumbs fell through his fingers.

"I'll just go with the flow and turn the tables on him!" Lai Tou San's voice was like a grinding wheel on pig iron, carrying a bloody stench. "He, Ximen Qing, wants to set a trap to strangle me? I'll let him taste what it's like to be strangled to death by that trap!"

He glanced at his men, his eyes gleaming with malice: "Who cares if he's real or fake, human or ghost! As long as I can get my godfather to come and get his dozens of heavily armored, sword-wielding, crossbow-wielding militia cavalry!"

"Don't even mention a trap; even if Ximen Qing sets up a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire, I'll still swallow him whole, skin and bones! Not a trace will be left!"

Upon hearing this, the hooligans erupted in disbelief, as if they'd been doused with boiling oil! "Third Brother is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

"With my godfather taking action, it's like crushing a bug!"

"Following Third Brother and Godfather, we'll live a life of luxury and have a bright future!"

"Ximen Qing is nothing! This time we'll squeeze his egg yolks out!"

The sounds of flattery, bootlicking, and harsh words mingled together, and everyone's face was covered with wrinkles of obsequiousness, as if they wanted to praise Lai Tou San to the heavens.

[Another 10,000 words, more during the day! Please vote with your monthly tickets, gentlemen! Send them to help us get into the top 4 all-time!]

(End of this chapter)