Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Chapter 265 Do you want revenge?

Jinshi, Machang Road.

Inside a three-story villa facing the street.

Li Siqing carried an empty bowl down from the second floor, her steps very light, afraid of disturbing her mother who had just fallen asleep.

Brownish medicinal stains remained at the bottom of the bowl, and the bitter smell of medicine wafted down the stairwell.

Liu Ruyan sat on the sofa by the window, a thin blanket draped over her legs, engrossed in reading a copy of the day's Ta Kung Pao newspaper.

"Is Auntie asleep?"

"Yes, she fell asleep after taking her medicine." Li Siqing placed the empty bowl on the coffee table and sat down opposite Liu Ruyan. "The fever hasn't completely subsided, but it's much better than last night. The doctor said it was just from being too frightened, and she'll be fine after a few days of rest."

"That's good."

Liu Ruyan then spread the newspaper out on the coffee table, pointed to one of the articles with her finger, and said, "You wrote this too, didn't you?"

The sign, printed in bold Song typeface, read: "Gu Ruzhang, leader of the Qing Gang in Tianjin, has been nominated as a member of parliament; people from all walks of life jointly oppose it."

The author's pen name was "A Scholar," which she knew was one of Li Siqing's pen names.

Li Siqing glanced at it, didn't deny it, but instead straightened her back a bit: "I wrote it, so what?"

What are you thinking?

Liu Ruyan raised her voice slightly, but quickly lowered it again, afraid of disturbing Widow Li upstairs.

"Who is Gu Ruzhang? He's a big shot who has connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles."

"You're the reason Auntie got dragged into this mess..."

"Why did you provoke him? If you really anger him, who will protect you then?"

"At worst, I'll give my life for him."

Li Siqing interrupted her, "And which of my statements wasn't true?"

"Gu Ruzhang ran casinos, trafficked opium, and forced women into prostitution in his early years; his hands are stained with countless blood."

"If someone like that becomes a member of parliament and enters a coalition government, that would be a real joke."

She became more and more agitated as she spoke, "What kind of world is this? Ordinary people are already suffering enough, and those gang leaders are taking advantage of the situation to make money and gain power. If we don't even dare to speak out, what hope is there for this world?"

Liu Ruyan sighed, momentarily at a loss for words.

After a moment of silence, she changed the subject: "By the way, I heard from Auntie that Chen Mo's father was also injured?"

Li Siqing paused for a moment, holding the cup in her hand.

"----Um."

"Many neighbors on the funeral street were injured. If it weren't for them, my mother might have had her leg broken that day."

She lowered her head, her voice filled with lingering fear.

"Buy some health supplements these next couple of days, and then go visit them in Linhe County."

Liu Ruyan took her hand and gently placed it in her own palm.

Li Siqing looked up, her eyes slightly red, and looked at her with some surprise.

"Don't take this lightly. Chen Mo is petty, protective of his own, and vindictive."

"His father was injured so badly because of you. If you don't say a word and don't even go to the door, when he comes back and finds out, he might hold a grudge against you too."

"....good."

Li Siqing remained silent for a long time before finally nodding.

Liu Ruyan then calmed down, leaned back on the sofa, and took a sip of her tea.

"Also, once Chen Mo returns, he definitely won't let this go so easily."

Li Siqing was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

"You mean he'll do something to the Green Gang..."

'

"It's very likely, but don't tell anyone."

It was already noon when we arrived in Jinshi.

Chen Mo landed next to a mass grave in the southern suburbs and walked towards the city along the official road.

The midday sun wasn't too strong, just a bit stuffy.

That's how it is in Jinshi in October. It's so cool in the mornings and evenings that you have to wear a vest, but by noon it gets so hot that your back is soaked with sweat.

Dust billowed along the official road, and several snail carts swayed slowly ahead, their loads piled high with bundles of sorghum stalks.

As soon as we entered the south gate, a cacophony of voices erupted.

There were many people on the street, some wearing long gowns, some wearing short jackets, and some wearing suits, all kinds of people crowded together.

Chen Mo mingled with the crowd, walking slowly across Nanshi Street and turning into Rongji Street.

Then, turn into a narrow alleyway from Rongji Street, just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. After several twists and turns, the archway at the east entrance of the street will appear before your eyes.

Liuye Lane is located in a remote area, not on the main street, and is surrounded by small business owners and craftspeople.

As soon as I turned into the alley, I saw Old Zhao bending down to pack up his stall.

A wooden cart selling tofu pudding was placed to the side, with several white porcelain bowls upside down on the cutting board, and the gauze used to weigh down the bowls was washed until it turned white.

Old Zhao heard footsteps and squinted at him twice.

"Hey, Mr. Chen is back? You must have gone on a long trip. It's been so long since I've seen you."

"Yes, I have to go out for a bit."

Chen Mo didn't stop walking and waved to him.

Willow Leaf Alley is not deep; it's only about a hundred steps from the entrance to number 198.

The layout of the yard hasn't changed much, but since no one has taken care of it for over a month, the plants have grown a bit wild.

Zhou Nian had gone back to her hometown for some business and was not in Tianjin.

Just as I took out my keys, I saw two letters under the door.

He bent down to pick it up, opened the door, and sat down on the sofa in the living room.

The first letter was from the fat man.

The envelope was scrawled with the words "To Chen Mo"—a handwritten signature that clearly belonged to the fat man.

Chen Mo opened it, and inside was a folded sheet of Xuan paper. The paper had a faint scent of ink and a small oil stain.

"Uncle Chen, I've got the leave you asked me to help you get, it's until the 8th, so you can relax and enjoy yourself."

"Remember to visit me when you get back, something good is coming your way."

His lips twitched.

It's obvious what kind of good things the fat guy is up to: drinking with women or gambling on Pai Gow. It's either one of those two things.

He turned the letter over and glanced at the back. Sure enough, there was another line of small print: "A new brothel called Chunxiang Pavilion has recently opened. The girls are beautiful and charming; I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

"6

'

Chen Mo crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the trash can before opening the second one.

This letter was written by Liu Ruyan.

"What does this woman want from me?"

The letter was short, only two pages long. The first few paragraphs were filled with polite words and inquiries about his recent situation.

Starting from the third paragraph, Liu Ruyan's tone became more cautious, and her word choice became much more restrained.

The gist of the story is that something happened in Linhe County, and many residents of the funeral street were injured, including Chen Dachuan, who was said to have only suffered minor, superficial injuries.

Chen Mo paused for a few breaths on the words "external injury" before continuing to read.

Liu Ruyan didn't specify who did it, only vaguely mentioning that it was related to the Green Gang.

The letter ended there, without a signature, only that small personal seal.

Chen Mo placed the letter on his lap and sat there without moving, but his eyes gradually darkened.

Green Gang...

He calculated the time in his mind; today was the 5th.

The fat man helped him get number eight, and there are still three days left.

Chen Mo didn't hesitate any longer. He put away the letters, got up, picked up his wicker trunk, and went out again.

Funeral Street, Linhe County.

The back door of Du'e Zhai was ajar. The moment Mo pushed the door open, a familiar smell of paper pulp wafted out.

The backyard was small, paved with blue bricks, with moss growing in the cracks.

A row of bamboo racks was set up against the wall, and several rows of paper figures and horses were hung on the racks to dry.

Chen Dachuan sat on an old rattan chair under the eaves, his left arm wrapped in gauze and draped in a blue cloth in front of his chest.

On the small square table next to it was a bowl of cooled tea. The tea soup was cloudy, with tea leaves floating on top, clearly indicating that it had been brewed several times without being changed.

When he saw Chen Mo come in, he was stunned for a moment, then frowned and sat up straighter.

The sling arm moved slightly, causing his lips to twitch in pain, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Why are you back?"

Chen Dachuan's voice was a little hoarse, but he couldn't hide the surprise and a hint of joy in his tone.

Chen Mo didn't answer. He placed the rattan box on the threshold, sat down on the small stool opposite Chen Dachuan, and extended his divine sense to scan him.

Fortunately, the injury wasn't serious, and I've almost fully recovered.

"Did Li Siqing tell you?" Chen Dachuan asked first when he saw that he didn't answer. His tone was a little reproachful. "That woman can't keep a secret. I told her not to tell you."

She didn't tell me.

"How did you know that?"

"Just a guess."

Chen Dachuan was taken aback by those words. He stared at him for two seconds, knowing that the kid was talking nonsense, but he didn't press the matter further.

"It's just a superficial wound, it'll heal in a couple of days. It's not worth making the trip all the way back."

Chen Mo didn't reply. He reached out and picked up Chen Dachuan's bowl of tea, got up and went to the kitchen to brew another bowl of hot tea, then put it back on the small square table.

"Who did it?"

Chen Dachuan picked up the bowl of hot tea and blew away the foam.

"A few clueless thugs got into a fight, that's all."

"From the Green Gang?"

Chen Dachuan glanced at him, his brows furrowing. "Why are you asking this?"

"Don't get any funny ideas. This is over. Just go back to your job in Jinshi and don't get involved."

Chen Mo stared at him for two seconds without saying a word or nodding.

"Alright, alright, you're back now."

He didn't want to dwell on the topic any longer, so he waved his right hand and changed his tone, "Have you eaten? There's leftover food in the kitchen, go heat it up yourself."

I'm not hungry.

"Eat something even if you're not hungry. Look at your face, it's as thin as a knife." Chen Dachuan looked him up and down. "You must have suffered a lot out there, right?"

"good."

Chen Dachuan scoffed, knowing that his son spoke like he was squeezing toothpaste, answering only one question at a time and never taking the initiative to say more.

The courtyard was quiet for a while, with only the rustling sound of the paper figures swaying gently in the wind.

"This time, we really owe it to those people from the Small Knife Society."

He suddenly spoke, not as if he were talking to his son, but as if he were talking to himself.

"Those people usually collect sanitation management fees, and the neighbors often complain about them."

"But when Liu Si from the Qing Gang came to cause trouble that day, if Shen Qi hadn't led his men to take their place, several of these old guys on Baishi Street would probably have been lying down."

He raised his arm, which was in a sling, and said, "My injury is nothing. The Little Knife Gang members are much more seriously injured."

"What's more troublesome is that Liu Si has said that anyone who dares to treat their injuries is going against the Green Gang. No doctor in our county dares to take them on, and it's been dragging on for several days."

Chen Dachuan looked at his son, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then said, "Go and check on them for me. I can't travel far in this condition."

"Take some medicine with you while you're at it."

Chen Mo nodded, not refusing: "Okay, where's the medicine?"

"It's on my desk in my room." He leaned on the armrest of the wicker chair, preparing to stand up. "I'll go find it for you."

Chen Mo pressed down on his uninjured shoulder. "You sit down, I'll go get it myself."

He got up and went into Chen Dachuan's bedroom.

The door was half-open, and the interior was simply furnished with an old-fashioned wooden bed and several packets of medicine wrapped in yellow paper on a small square table at the head of the bed.

Chen Mo picked up the medicine packet and weighed it in his hand, then casually took out two rolls of gauze from the earthenware jar under the table and stuffed them into his pocket.

When he came out, Chen Dachuan was craning his neck to look into the house. Seeing that he had taken the medicine, he leaned back in his chair.

"You can find Hengjie, right? It's north of Baishijie, go through that narrow alley, and turn the corner."

"There are two dilapidated rickshaws parked in front of where Shen Qi and the others live, so they're easy to spot."

"Know."

"Don't get involved in this. Come back after you deliver the medicine. Those people saved our funeral street; we can't let them down."

Chen Mo didn't respond, and went out the back door with the medicine bag in his hand.

Hengjie Street is even more dilapidated than Baishijie Street. The further you go in, the narrower the road becomes, and the walls on both sides are covered with moss.

The two rickshaws were easy to spot; their tires were flat, and rusty wires were wrapped around their handlebars. They were leaning against a courtyard gate with half of its door panel missing.

The courtyard was quiet, with only suppressed groans emanating from within.

Just as Chen Mo reached the door, a young man with a plaster on his face stopped him, his eyes scanning him warily: "Who are you looking for?"

"The funeral parlor on the street is here to deliver medicine."

The young man was taken aback, his wariness still evident, but his tone softened: "Wait a minute."

A short while later, a middle-aged man in his forties lifted the curtain and came out.

He saw the medicine packet in Chen Mo's hand, paused for a few moments, and asked, "Are you from the Chen family?"

"His son."

"Come in, come in quickly."

He stepped aside to let Chen Mo into the courtyard, and said in a low voice, "You people on Funeral Street are all good people."

The courtyard was even worse than Chen Dachuan had described.

A row of wooden planks against the wall, covered with thin mattresses, had seven or eight people lying on them.

The air was filled with the strong smell of traditional Chinese medicine.

On the innermost bed, a young man had a thick strip of cloth wrapped around his left shoulder, his face was as white as paper, and a layer of fine beads of sweat covered his forehead.

"This is our boss, Master Shen Qi."

Uncle Zhao squatted down and said in a low voice, "He's had a fever for two days... We don't have the money to send him to the foreign hospital, and the doctors in the county town didn't dare to come because they heard it was the Green Gang who said they wouldn't let him treat him."

Chen Mo didn't say anything, but squatted down by the bed and reached out to feel Shen Qi's forehead.

He untied the dirty strip of cloth.

A long gash appeared on the shoulder blade, with the skin turned outwards and the edges blackened.

Pus mixed with blood dripped down, and the stench in the air suddenly intensified.

Chen Mo frowned, took out gauze and a medicine packet from his pocket, and turned to ask, "Do you have any strong liquor?"

"Yes, yes, yes." The man hurriedly went into the house and brought over half a bowl of Lao Bai Gan (a type of Chinese liquor).

He used a clean strip of cloth dipped in strong liquor to clean the wound bit by bit.

The rotten flesh and pus were wiped away, revealing fresh, bright red flesh underneath.

Shen Qi shuddered in pain while unconscious, then fell into a deep sleep again.

Chen Mo's hands were steady. He sprinkled on the hemostatic and tissue-regenerating powder and re-bandaged it with new gauze.

The middle-aged man stood to the side holding a bowl of cold tea, his lips trembling several times, but he couldn't utter a single complete sentence.

Chen Mo neatly arranged the remaining medicine packets, explained the dosage, and then took out a talisman folded into a triangle and handed it to him.

"When Zhao Qi wakes up, ask him if he wants revenge. If he does, light this candle, and I'll come find him myself."

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