I'll steal Gao Qiu's life and lead the Song Dynasty to prosperity.

Under a narrow corridor in the rear garden of Prince Duan's mansion, near the servants' quarters.

Gao Qiu changed out of the shorts he wore while playing football and was heading to the canteen.

He is now a formally registered football player in the household, and due to his outstanding performance in football, he earns a considerable monthly salary.

Moreover, the prince was generous and often rewarded him, so his life was much more comfortable than when he was in the prince consort's mansion, and he lived a more respectable life than the other guests.

As Gao Qiu turned the corner of the corridor, a figure suddenly appeared, almost bumping into him.

"Ouch!" the man exclaimed softly, quickly taking two steps back, bending over, and forcing a somewhat awkward and ingratiating smile on his face.

"Brother Gao... it's you! I'm so sorry, I was blind."

Gao Qiu looked closely and saw that it was another guest in the mansion named Yang San.

In his early twenties, he was quite sturdy and a good football player, especially with his powerful footwork; he charged forward recklessly.

At this moment, however, his face was somewhat sallow, his eyes were bloodshot, his lips were chapped, and his old ochre-red short shirt was faded from washing, with frayed cuffs, making him look rather disheveled.

"It's the Yang brothers." Gao Qiu's face immediately lit up with a friendly smile, and he stopped in his tracks.

"In such a hurry, where are you going?"

Yang San rubbed his hands together, his eyes darting around, and gave a dry chuckle.

"No...nothing urgent. Brother Gao, do you...are you free right now?"

"I have some free time. I just finished practicing and was about to have dinner. Brother Yang, is there something you need?" Gao Qiu asked casually, but he knew exactly what was going on in his mind.

He had gotten to know the temperaments of the football players during his time here. This guy in front of him, named Yang San, was a good football player, but he had a fatal flaw—he was a gambler.

His monthly allowance often ran out before the middle of the month, and he frequently incurred gambling debts.

Judging from his appearance, he's probably here to borrow money again because he's short on cash.

Sure enough, Yang San took half a step forward, lowered his voice, and spoke with a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment.

"Brother Gao, to be honest... I've been really... really strapped for cash these past few days. My mother at home hasn't been feeling well since the beginning of summer, she's been coughing terribly, we've seen the doctor twice, she's taken a lot of medicine, and the money's been flowing out like water... It's almost time to get more medicine, but... sigh!"

Yang San sighed heavily, stealing a glance at Gao Qiu's expression.

"Look... is it convenient for me to lend you... uh, not much, just two strings of cash! Just in case! As soon as I get my monthly paycheck, I'll repay you immediately, without missing a single penny! I'll never forget your great kindness!"

As he spoke, Yang San bowed again, gazing longingly at Gao Qiu.

Gao Qiu's smile remained unchanged, but he secretly chuckled to himself, thinking, "What do you mean, 'I'm getting medicine'? He's probably just having a gambling urge."

However, Gao Qiu did not point it out.

He had just arrived at the Prince's Palace and his position was not yet secure, so he needed to cultivate good relationships with many people.

Although Yang San is a gambler, he is actually quite skilled at playing ball and can be a helpful player on the court.

A few strings of cash are nothing to him now, but if he can do someone a favor, it might come in handy in the future.

Even if it's useless, it's only a few strings of cash, which Gao Qiu can afford to lose.

"Brother Yang, what are you saying?" Gao Qiu's tone became even gentler, with a hint of sympathy. "Who doesn't have times when they're short of money? You have elderly parents at home who are not in good health, and that's exactly when you need money. Your filial piety is commendable."

As Gao Qiu spoke, he reached into his robe and pulled out a blue cloth money bag. He counted out several pieces of silver of varying sizes and weighed them in his palm.

"Two strings of cash probably won't be enough to buy a few doses of good medicine. I happen to have a few coins here, which should be enough for a little over three strings of cash. Take them all and use them as needed. Getting medicine for the old man is the priority, don't delay."

As Gao Qiu spoke, he readily stuffed the silver into Yang San's hand.

Yang San was taken aback at first, then overjoyed. The feigned sorrow on his face was instantly replaced by genuine elation.

He gripped the few pieces of silver, still warm from Gao Qiu's body, tightly. They felt heavy in his hand, far more than three strings of cash! His voice trembled with excitement.

"Enough! Enough! Brother Gao! You...you are truly...truly righteous! A timely help in my time of need! A living bodhisattva! I...I..."

He was incoherent, bowing repeatedly until his back was almost touching the ground.

"As soon as the monthly salary arrives, I will definitely..."

"Hey, no rush, no rush." ​​Gao Qiu reached out and grabbed his arm, cutting him off, a nonchalant smile on his face.

"We're all brothers working in the manor, it's only right that we help each other out. Use the money first, treating the old man's illness is the important thing, go and get busy."

Yang San felt a little guilty even though Gao Qiu spoke so casually.

"Yes, yes! Thank you so much, Brother Gao! I will remember your great kindness!"

Yang San gave a hasty bow, carefully tucked the silver into the innermost pocket of his body as if it were a life-saving elixir, and then, not daring to linger any longer, turned and hurried away, his steps even faster than when he came, almost as if he were running.

Gao Qiu stood there, watching Yang San's figure disappear at the end of the corridor. The smile on his face faded, and he gently shook his head.

He came from the bottom of society; what kind of monsters and demons hadn't he seen?

Gao Qiu saw through Yang San's tricks at a glance.

That little bit of silver will probably be thrown into the bottomless pit of the gambling den in the blink of an eye.

However, what Gao Qiu lent out was not money, but "favors" and "good connections".

This is Gao Qiu's way of dealing with people.

……

With the silver in his pocket, Yang San rushed out of the side gate of the Prince's Mansion like a gust of wind and skillfully navigated the crisscrossing alleys in the south of Bianjing City.

After several twists and turns, we arrived at a small shop with a drab, gray signboard.

The shop looked like a secondhand store from the outside, but inside, one could faintly hear shouts and commotion.

This is the "Baoshun" bus.

On the surface, they ran a small general store business, but secretly they were one of the most notorious underground gambling dens in southern Bianjing.

Yang San is a regular here.

"This time, we must turn things around!"

Yang San cheered himself up, lifted the greasy curtain, and went inside.

The room was dimly lit, and several old tables were crowded with people.

There were ragged laborers and impoverished people with cloudy eyes, all of them red-faced, staring intently at the dice cups or dominoes on the table, muttering to themselves.

The croupier, expressionless, shouted out, "Taking money, losing money!"

Yang San squeezed to a table where people played dice, took out the smallest piece of silver, and bet on "big".

The dice cup is opened, revealing four, five, six, fifteen points—big!

He won; his small piece of silver turned into two.

Good luck seems to be on its way.

Yang San's heart raced, his eyes gleamed, and he bet again, winning again.

In the blink of an eye, he had several more pieces of loose silver in his hand.

People around him looked at him with envy and whispered among themselves.

Yang San straightened his back unconsciously, and his face flushed. The guilt and unease he felt were completely washed away by the pleasure of winning money.

Maybe today will be the day we can turn things around!

Pay off some of the old debts, and you might even earn more!

Just then, a heavy hand slammed onto his shoulder.

Yang San shuddered, his excitement at winning money instantly freezing.

He turned his head stiffly and saw two expressionless, fierce faces.

He recognized them as thugs employed by the gambling den.

"Yang San, you're on a winning streak." The scarred man on the left grinned, his smile devoid of any warmth.

"Two...two brothers," Yang San's voice was dry, and his legs were a little weak, "I...I'm trying to raise the money I owe. You see, I won some money today, so I can pay back some of the interest first..."

"Money isn't urgent," the one-eyed man on the right said slowly, his voice hoarse.

"Our manager invites you to come with us."

Without a word, the two men grabbed Yang San's arms from both sides, their strength so great that he couldn't move.

Under the watchful eyes of the surrounding gamblers, some with sympathy and others with schadenfreude, Yang San was half-dragged, half-pulled away from the gambling table, through the noisy front hall, pushed open a hidden door, and entered a dimly lit passageway.

At the end of the passage was a room with the door closed. The scarred man knocked on the door, and a deep voice came from inside.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Yang San was pushed inside.

The room was small and had no windows; only an oil lamp hung from the beam, casting a dim, yellowish light.

Manager Wang of the gambling den sat in the main chair, slowly stirring the tea foam with the lid of his cup.

Manager Wang was about forty years old, with fair skin and a slightly plump figure. He wore a silk robe and a large gold ring on his finger.

"Manager...Manager." Yang San was pushed in, staggered a step, barely managed to stand, his voice trembled, his knees were weak, and he almost knelt down.

Shopkeeper Wang raised his eyelids, glanced at him without any expression, and pointed to the chair opposite him.

"You're here? Have a seat."

Yang San dared not sit down, and forced out a smile that looked worse than crying.

"I...I can just stand here. The shopkeeper called me here, but...is it because of that debt? I had a good day, I won some money, I can pay back some interest first, but as for the principal...please grant me a few more days..."

"Sit down," Manager Wang said again.

Yang San shuddered and dared not refuse any longer. He sat down on the opposite chair with his back straight, his hands neatly placed on his knees, and his head hanging low.

Manager Wang took a sip of tea and put down the teacup.

He looked at Yang San, a faint, ambiguous smile slowly appearing on his face.

"Debt? That's easy to talk about. I invited you here today not to collect a debt, but to bestow upon you a great fortune."

Yang San suddenly looked up, a hint of unbelievable surprise flashing in his eyes, which was then replaced by deeper doubt and unease.

"Wealth and status?" he murmured, his heart pounding uncontrollably.

"Shopkeeper, please don't make fun of me... How could someone like me deserve wealth and status..."

"No, you deserve it." Manager Wang leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.

"I heard that you're playing a new game called football at the Prince Duan's residence, and you often get to play with the prince and other nobles?"

Yang San was taken aback, then nodded.

"Yes...yes, I can sometimes play, just to make up the numbers." His unease grew even stronger.

"Hmm." Manager Wang nodded, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "In a few days, I'm afraid other important people will come to the Prince's mansion to play this game?"

Yang San thought for a moment and said, "I heard that in a few days, a young master from a prince's family has invited me to the manor for a ball game."

Yang San overheard other servants in the mansion chatting about this.

"Good, very good." Manager Wang smiled, but the smile felt cold in Yang San's eyes.

Next, Manager Wang spoke even softer, yet every word struck Yang San's heart.

"I need you on the field... to seize the opportunity and deliver a blow, neither too light nor too heavy, to some young master with a bad temper, or some nobleman with a weak constitution."

Yang San's mind went blank, as if he had been hit hard with a hammer.

He stared wide-eyed and mouth agape at Manager Wang, as if he hadn't understood, or as if he understood but couldn't believe it.

Manager Wang added, his tone as if he were instructing someone on something trivial.

"No need to break his leg or fracture his bone, or cause a fatality. But he needs to fall to the ground on the spot, draw some blood, or get a stitch in his side, feel some pain, and be covered in dirt. Ideally, it should provoke both sides to get angry, start pushing and shoving, and start arguing."

"Thump!"

Yang San slid off the chair and collapsed to his knees. His face turned deathly pale, and cold sweat poured out from his forehead, nose, and back, soaking his thin clothes instantly.

He trembled like a leaf in the autumn wind, kowtowing repeatedly, his forehead hitting the cold, rough floor tiles with a dull thud.

"Manager Wang! Grandpa Wang! Please...please spare me! This...this is a capital offense! It's punishable by the extermination of nine generations of your family!"

His voice was hoarse, choked with sobs, and tears instantly streamed down his face.

"Offending a member of the royal family, and on purpose... I wouldn't dare even if I had a hundred lives! The prince would skin me alive! The court would chop off my head! I would never dare! Please, have mercy on me! That debt... that debt I will repay even if I have to work like a slave! I will definitely repay it!"

Yang San kowtowed repeatedly, and faint bloodstains soon appeared on the floor tiles.

Manager Wang watched coldly, the fake smile on his face completely vanishing, leaving only icy indifference and a hint of impatience.

He let Yang San kowtow more than a dozen times before slowly speaking. His voice was not loud, but it pierced Yang San's ears like an ice pick.

"If you don't do it, I'll make you wish you were dead right now."

He stopped looking at Yang San and instead tapped the table lightly with his knuckles, making a soft "tap, tap" sound.

"Yang San, how much have you made here with interest? More than two hundred strings of cash. If I tied you up, along with your drafty, dilapidated house outside the city, your sickly old mother, and your younger brother who works as a porter at the docks earning barely a few dozen coins a day, and sold you all together, could I afford to pay you back?"

Yang San's crying and kowtowing stopped abruptly, like a chicken being strangled.

He collapsed to the ground, his pale face tilted back, tears, snot, and blood mingling on his skin, his eyes empty and filled with despair.

Manager Wang had already thoroughly investigated his financial situation.

Manager Wang's tone softened, taking on a seductive quality like a viper spitting its tongue.

"If you're willing to do it, once it's done, this debt of over two hundred strings of cash will be wiped clean. We'll have nothing to do with each other anymore."

A very subtle flicker of emotion flashed in Yang San's ashen eyes.

"Not only that," Manager Wang leaned forward, his voice seductive.

"I have a distant relative in Suzhou who can arrange a position for you. It's a minor official position overseeing a section of the river. Although it's not a high-ranking official post, it's a decent one. If you can make a little money from passing boats, it'll be enough to support your family."

"At that time, I can arrange for you to fill a vacancy, away from this troublesome place, Bianjing. You can take the money, your family, and live a carefree life as a minor official there. Wouldn't that be better than you being here, being treated like a football, having to watch people's faces, and barely surviving?"

Not only can it help you get rid of debts? It can also help you become a minor official?

Yang San's breathing became rapid. In the deep pool of despair, he seemed to see a swaying straw, but he was still afraid.

"But...but the rules of the Prince's Palace are very strict, and if they investigate afterwards..."

"Investigate?" Manager Wang scoffed, interrupting him with a look of disdain on his face.

"On the field, bumps and scrapes are commonplace! When things get heated and you can't stop, who would suspect it's intentional? Once things get chaotic, who can say for sure? You're just an insignificant player who's putting in a lot of effort; who would keep a close eye on you? It's a matter of 'the law doesn't punish everyone,' understand?"

Manager Wang stood up, walked around the table, and stood in front of the slumped Yang San, looking down at him with his shadow completely enveloping him.

The voice suddenly turned stern.

"Yang San, listen to me clearly. I'm not discussing this with you. This wealth, you have to accept it whether you like it or not!"

He squatted down, grabbed Yang San's chin with such force that Yang San cried out in pain and was forced to lift his face, which was covered in tears and filth.

Manager Wang's face was very close, and Yang San could see the undisguised coldness and murderous intent in his eyes.

"If you don't comply, I'll send someone to your house tomorrow to 'invite' your sick mother over for a visit. She's frail; if she bumps into something on the way and doesn't catch her breath, no one can be blamed."

If your younger brother, who works at the docks, gets injured while carrying goods and becomes lame or broken, he'll be ruined for life.

Yang San's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints. He felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen, and even his trembling stopped.

"Think it over carefully." Manager Wang released his grip, letting Yang San's head droop limply. His voice returned to its usual cold calm, yet it was more chilling than a roar.

"Is it better to have your family destroyed, you and your brother crippled, and your mother left to rot in the streets; or take a gamble, grab the money, and run away with your family to a faraway place, to live a different life?"

"Yang San, I'm not the only one who owes you money. Without your job at the Prince Duan's mansion to cover your tracks, you're like a stray dog ​​without a kennel in Bianjing City. You won't live more than three days."

But if you do this, you'll have a way to survive, your mother will have medicine, and your brother will have a peaceful life. If you don't, your whole family can just wait to reunite in the underworld.

Every word was like a heavy hammer blow, slamming into Yang San's already crumbling mental defenses.

Family destroyed... Mother... Brother... Fleeing far away... Path to life... Path to death...

Yang San collapsed to the ground, his eyes unfocused and devoid of any expression. His lips trembled violently, but he couldn't utter a sound.

The last shred of resistance vanished completely in the face of this irresistible coercion and that distant yet alluring "path to survival."

After what felt like an eternity, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he let out a broken, almost inaudible breath.

"I...I'll do it..."

Yang San suddenly raised his head, his face showing numbness and despair after complete surrender, and tears welled up again.

"I beg you, shopkeeper... to keep your word... after this is done... please spare my family's livelihood... please... please don't..."

"rest assured."

Shopkeeper Wang stood up, took out a clean handkerchief, and slowly wiped his fingers, which had just pinched Yang San's chin, as if they had been stained with something dirty.

"As long as you handle things well, make the scene exciting enough, and escalate the situation, you won't be shortchanged on what you're promised. Figure out the specifics yourself. Remember—"

He stopped wiping his hands, looked down at Yang San, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

"Keep your mouth shut tight. You can't utter a single word to anyone, not a single whisper. If things go wrong..."

Shopkeeper Wang gently patted Yang San's cheek, which made Yang San tremble all over and almost collapse again.

"I...I understand." Yang San squeezed out the two words through gritted teeth, then collapsed completely, like a lump of mud that had lost all its bones.

Manager Wang nodded in satisfaction and gave instructions to those outside the door.

"See Yang San out, and be polite."

The scarred man and the one-eyed man pushed open the door and dragged the distraught Yang San out like a dead dog.

The room fell silent again. Manager Wang walked to the table, picked up the cooled tea, and drank it all in one gulp.

Then he walked to an inconspicuous cabinet by the wall, opened the hidden compartment, took out paper and pen, and wrote a note by the dim light of the oil lamp.

I wrote eight characters.

"The fish is in the net; we await the right moment."

Shopkeeper Wang rolled up the paper strip, stuffed it into a small bamboo tube, and sealed it with wax.

He walked to the door and opened it a crack.

A trusted confidant who had been waiting outside the door like a shadow suddenly appeared silently.

"Deliver the letter to Cai Chengzhi's residence immediately."

Shopkeeper Wang handed over the bamboo tube in a barely audible voice.

"Yes."

The confidant took the bamboo tube, turned and disappeared into the darkness without a sound.