Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Chapter 302 Hiring a Killer at the Ghost Market

As soon as Fatty Zhao finished speaking, Chen Mo raised an eyebrow.

"Thirty thousand?" He reached out and covered the bundle with the cloth again, as if to take it back.

Fatty Zhao reacted quickly, grabbing the corner of the bundle.

"Sir, this price is not low. This batch of goods is of good quality, but you know in your heart where it came from."

His smile remained unchanged, but his tone became more serious: "There aren't many people in the Ghost Market who can swallow so many items in one go. The prices I, Fatty Zhao, always offer are fair."

"justice?"

Chen Mo almost laughed in exasperation, tapping the jet-black short sword in his bag a few times with his finger. "Boss Zhao, this jet-black short sword alone would cost more than five thousand magic coins, wouldn't it?"

"This bundle contains twelve items, each one a top-quality item among the lowest grades."

"Thirty thousand coins, that's only two thousand five hundred for one item?"

Fatty Zhao took a sip of tea, his tone unhurried: "Sir, you're wrong about that."

"The black jade short sword is indeed a good thing, but look at this blade..."

'

He reached for his short sword, drew it, and brandished it under the blood moon. "The blade has two tiny chips, about the size of grains of rice, and the runes are worn away."

damage."

"It can sell for four or five thousand yuan when sold individually, but that's the retail price."

"You're shipping wholesale. I'll have to take it back, maintain it, and find buyers. Not only will it tie up my money, but it also carries risks."

"Thirty-two thousand," Chen Mo reported.

Fatty Zhao shook his head and waved three fingers in front of him: "At most 30,500, I'll give you an extra 500, that's more than enough."

"Thirty-one thousand five hundred." Chen Mo refused to back down.

"Sir, your price increase is too outrageous."

Fatty Zhao put down the purple clay teapot, rubbed his hands together awkwardly, and said, "How about this, I'll compromise and give you 30,800."

"Not a single extra penny. If you insist, go find another place."

Chen Mo stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly pulled the black jade short sword out of his bundle and put it aside.

"I'm not selling this sword. You can give me an estimate for the rest."

Fatty Zhao glanced down at the black jade short sword, his lips twitching. "Sir, you're forcing me."

"You're joking. There's no such thing as free trade."

Fatty Zhao sighed and stuffed the short sword back into his bundle. "Thirty-one thousand eight, keep the sword."

"Any less is really not enough. If you're not satisfied, I, Fatty Zhao, will pretend I never made a sale today."

Thirty-two thousand.

"Alright, alright."

Fatty Zhao picked up the package with a pained expression, clicked his tongue, and said, "Grandpa, with that kind of talk, it's a waste of your talent not to be an accountant."

As he muttered to himself, he pulled a patterned cloth bag from under the table, poured out several stacks of Buddhist coins, and pushed it over.

The dark bronze stacks were ordinary legal tender, a bundle of one hundred coins, tightly bound with black rope.

The other three were different; they were entirely bluish-white, emitting a faint spiritual light, and made a clear, melodious sound when they collided.

Seeing Chen Mo's gaze fixed on the bluish-white coins, Fatty Li casually picked one up and introduced it to him, saying, "Sir, is this the first time you've seen spirit stone coins?"

"This is made of pure spirit stone and has a small spirit-gathering array sealed inside."

"One coin is worth ten thousand; I only take it out when making large transactions."

He gently tapped the spirit stone coin on the table, the crisp sound carrying a slight echo. "Take it to any shop in the Ghost Market."

The dealer can exchange loose change at any time without discounting the price.

"In the entire Ghost Market, the number of shopkeepers who can always keep spirit stones and magic money on hand can be counted on one hand."

After saying that, he pushed all the money toward Chen Mo and added, "Thirty-two thousand, three spirit stones plus two thousand dark copper coins, you can decide the amount yourself."

Chen Mo twirled the three blue and white coins between his fingers twice; they felt smooth and icy like jade.

The inner spiritual flow, however, surged like an underground river, crawling along the meridians at the fingertips into the body.

It's definitely a good item; one piece is worth a spirit stone.

"Spirit Stones and Magic Coins?"

A tall, thin man wrapped in a gray cloak approached from somewhere, his eyes fixed on the bluish-white halo at Chen Mo's fingertips.

In the ghost market, everyone pulled their hats down to cover their faces, but this man's surprise was impossible to hide.

Even after three to five years of struggling in the ghost market, one might not be able to witness a single spirit stone or magic coin appear in someone else's hand, let alone three.

Fatty Zhao's expression changed slightly. He subtly stuffed the cloth bag containing the money back under the table and waved at the gray-cloaked man: "What are you looking at? Keep going."

The man in the gray cloak shrank his neck, but his gaze remained fixed on the three spirit stones as he walked, glancing back as he went.

Several old men who were setting up stalls nearby also raised their eyelids, glanced in this direction, and then quickly lowered them again.

The most common currency circulating in the ghost market is copper coins.

A face value of ten thousand spirit stones is neither useful nor affordable for ordinary transactions.

Those who can pull out something like this are either stewards who run errands for important figures, or they themselves are big fish.

Chen Mo calmly put all the money into his purse and nodded slightly to the fat man: "Boss Zhao is straightforward."

Fatty Zhao waved his hand, picked up the purple clay teapot and took a big gulp, saying irritably, "Next time you have goods, just come directly to me. Don't bring a knife to haggle over the price."

He smiled, turned and left.

Thirty-two thousand sounds like a high price, but Chen Mo knows that if he finds a way to sell this batch of goods slowly, he can sell it for at least forty thousand or more.

Even if Fatty Zhao complains about losing money, it wouldn't be surprising if he tidied things up a bit and sold them for double the price.

However, he doesn't have the time to sell retail right now; time is more valuable than those few thousand dollars.

As soon as Chen Mo disappeared into the crowd, the smile on Fatty Zhao's face faded.

The woman in the moon-white cheongsam beside him loosened her grip on the white fox, letting it jump onto the table.

"Zhao Bancheng, do you know this person?"

"There are so many people coming and going in the ghost market, how could I possibly remember them all?"

Fatty Zhao put down the purple clay teapot, wiped his face with his thick hand, and said, "What, you've figured it out?"

The woman shook her head, saying nothing, but her gaze remained fixed on the direction where Chen Mo had disappeared.

A chilling laugh came from the side of the stall.

"What are you two talking about?"

Both Fatty Zhao and the woman turned their heads at the same time, their expressions changing simultaneously.

A monk wearing a kasaya appeared beside the stall at some point.

He had a dignified appearance, with slightly lowered eyes, giving him a compassionate look.

But the extra mouth on the side of its neck was grinning, revealing half of its blackened tongue, muttering in a soft, rat-like voice.

Blood-Clad Buddhist Disciple.

Fatty Zhao quickly stood up, clasped his hands together, and bowed three inches lower than usual: "Zhao Bancheng greets Master Blood Robe."

The woman in the cheongsam also bowed slightly.

The white fox, which had been lying on the table, pricked up its ears, its fur bristled, and it let out a low growl.

She calmly pressed down on the fox's back, lowered her head and said humbly, "Meng San Niang greets the Master."

The Blood-Clad Buddha glanced down at the white fox on the table, then looked at Meng San Niang, and suddenly chuckled twice from the small mouth on the side of his neck.

His dignified face remained expressionless. "Instead of guarding your Hehuan Sect, Meng Sanniang has come to sit idly here with Manager Zhao?"

Meng San Niang's expression remained unchanged as she said softly, "San Niang came out for a walk and asked Manager Zhao for a cup of tea while she was at it."

"oh."

The Blood-Clad Buddha responded, his gaze falling on Fatty Zhao's face. "You know that person who just left?"

Fatty Zhao's heart skipped a beat, but he forced a smile and said, "This is your first time buying a batch of goods. If the price is right, I'll take it."

"What, Master, are you interested in him?"

The Blood-Clad Buddha did not answer, but the mouth on the side of his neck stretched wider and wider, and his tongue licked around his lips, making a slurping sound.

Fatty Zhao and Meng San Niang both lowered their eyes, and neither of them spoke again.

"An interesting person."

A moment later, the blood-robed Buddhist monk turned and left, the hem of his robe sweeping across the ground without making a sound.

Only after the dark red cassock had completely blended into the crowd did Fatty Zhao slowly exhale, pick up the purple clay teapot only to find that it was already empty of tea.

"How did this Buddha statue end up in Ganzhou?"

Meng San Niang didn't reply. She picked up the white fox and turned to walk deeper into the ghost market.

On the other side, Chen Mo had already reached the vicinity of the entrance to the Ghost Market.

The tea stall was still in the same spot, and the banner was still the same as when I first saw it, with the words "Tea Soup" on it, which looked like dried bloodstains under the blood moon.

A woman sat behind a low table, her face covered by a black veil, only her eyes visible.

Chen Mo walked to the low table, took out the wooden plaque of the Ghost Banner Taoist from his sleeve, and placed it on the table.

"Buy the hidden flower."

The woman looked down at the wooden plaque, then looked up at Chen Mo.

The whites of the eyes were completely filled with whites; there were no pupils.

"Follow me."

She pushed the wooden sign back to Chen Mo. The hem of her black coat reached down to her feet, obscuring what kind of shoes she was wearing.

All that could be seen was that her clothes remained completely still as she moved, like a black shadow gliding across the ground.

The sound was very soft, like sandpaper rubbing against a wooden board.

Chen Mo followed her, passing through two rows of stalls and turning into a narrow alley.

There were no stalls on either side of the alley, only a few tightly closed wooden doors with faded talismans pasted on the door frames.

The woman stopped in front of the third door, reached out and knocked on the door three times, two short knocks and one long knock.

The door opened from the inside, revealing a similarly dark passageway.

The woman stepped inside, and Chen Mo followed behind.

At the end of the corridor was a small room with an oil lamp lit. The wick was black and the flame was bluish-white, illuminating the walls with a blue glow.

The interior is simply furnished with a table, a cabinet, and two chairs.

The woman sat down behind the table, pulled a thick booklet from the cabinet, and looked up at Chen Mo.

"Who to kill?"

"Gu Ruzhang, the leader of the Green Gang."

Upon hearing the name, something seemed to surge deep within the woman's eyes.

"Gu Ruzhang".

She lowered her head and opened the thick book, turning the pages one by one.

After a short while, the woman finally looked up, turned the booklet around, and pushed it in front of Chen Mo.

The top line of that page read: Gu Ruzhang, leader of the Tianjin Green Gang.

Below were several densely written, scribbled notes. She tapped the latest blank line with her fingertip.

"Eighty thousand coins."

"Eighty thousand?"

Chen Mo thought he had misheard. He looked down and saw the number clearly. His brows furrowed. "Damn it, why don't you guys just rob me?"

'

His original price range was around 40,000 to 50,000.

This price is not low.

I didn't expect it to be so expensive.

The other person didn't speak, but tapped the first few lines of the record with their fingertip.

Chen Mo looked down.

The first attempt at a hidden sum of 20,000 coins failed.

Assassins: Han Tie (early stage of Qi Refining) and Zhou Xiaodao (early stage of Qi Refining).

The date is July 1908.

The second attempt, forty thousand coins, failed.

"Sun the Cripple and his three companions, all in the early stages of Qi Refining, sneaked into the Gu residence, but none of them returned."

It was less than five months after the first transaction.

The third attempt, worth 60,000 coins, failed.

"The seven members of Zhao Yanwang have the highest cultivation level, which is the late stage of Qi Refining."

The date is approximately four months ago.

The woman withdrew her fingers and placed her hands, one on top of the other, on the cover.

"Jinshi is the territory of the Zhenyi Division. Any underhanded operation has to bypass their eyes and ears, and that alone will double the price."

"In addition, Gu Ruzhang's strength is still unfathomable."

"The first three groups of people didn't even leave a scratch on him."

"The fourth time will cost 80,000, no bargaining."

Chen Mo remained silent for a few moments, then shook his head. "Eighty thousand is too much; I can't afford it."

I just sold that batch of goods and only got 32,000 yuan. Adding the money I had saved up before, I don't even have 50,000 yuan in total.

It's not worth spending 80,000 to kill him.

"Why not kill Gu Ruzhang, but kill his high-ranking subordinates?"

"A high-ranking member of the Green Gang?"

"Yes, for example, the leaders of several of his gangs."

The woman reopened the booklet and turned to the later pages.

There, prices for various people were listed in great detail.

"At the Tianjin branch of the Green Gang, a minister-level official receives 800 yuan per head, a deputy minister 500 yuan, and a protector 300 yuan."

She looked up: "How many do you want to kill?"

Chen Mo didn't rush to answer, and pondered for a moment.

Zhou Sandao is definitely at the level of a hall master, and he needs 800.

But killing just a few people is definitely not enough; the Green Gang has no shortage of people.

He pondered for a moment, then looked up at the woman opposite him. "What if we wanted to burn down a few of their properties?"

The woman's eyes flickered again, as if she had become somewhat interested.

"Burning off industries?"

"Burn as many warehouses, gambling dens, brothels, and Green Gang properties in Tianjin as possible."

The woman remained silent for a moment, and this time she did not flip through the booklet.

I guess these prices weren't marked on it.

"Arson is cheaper than murder."

"Burn a warehouse for two hundred coins, a gambling den for three hundred."

"The brothel costs five hundred, and there are too many people there. We'll have to clear the place out before setting it on fire, which is a bit of a hassle."

Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. He had thought that burning down a business would be more expensive, but it turned out to be much cheaper than killing someone.

"Wednesday knife, and three other ministers."

"The Green Gang had at least three large warehouses and gambling dens in Tianjin; as far as I know, there were two..."

Chen Mo counted on his fingers for a moment, then looked up at the woman: "Total, eight thousand?"

The woman lowered her head and wrote and calculated on the paper, then looked up after a moment.

"Eleven thousand."

"Why is there an extra three thousand?"

"The people you reported are not all from the same place."

"If we want to finish burning it all in one night, we need to divide our manpower into three teams, and add a dispatch fee of one thousand to each team."

She turned the page over for Chen Mo to see; every price increase was clearly listed.

Chen Mo glanced at it and nodded.

"Okay, eleven thousand it is."

The woman closed the booklet and pulled a black sheet of paper from under the table.

Write down the items and total amount on a piece of paper and push it in front of Chen Mo.

"The rule is that the full amount is paid in advance for the hidden payment, and half will be refunded if the task fails."

Chen Mo stared at the black paper, then took out his money pouch from his pocket.

"Eleven thousand, you choose."

The woman stretched out her white, multi-jointed hand and began to count.

"That's right."

After a moment, she nodded and gathered the money under the table.

He then took out a black token the size of a copper coin from the drawer. The front of the token had the character "kill" engraved on it, while the back was blank.

She picked up the fine pen and quickly wrote a line of small characters on the back of the token, then pushed the token to Chen Mo. "This is a token. If it doesn't work out, bring this token back and I'll give you half back."

"How long will it take to process?"

"It can take as little as seven days, or as long as half a month."

>