I run a casino in the immortal realm.

The day after Zhou Biaotou left, Zheng Yifei got up before dawn.

Wash your face with spring water, and eat cold steamed buns to fill your stomach.

He took out the third mask from a hidden compartment in the niche.

I found this mask in the general merchandise street of Sujiafang City for fifteen spirit stones. The workmanship is a level more refined than the previous two.

With a bitter face in his fifties, three deep lines between his eyebrows, and drooping corners of his mouth, he looked like an old rogue cultivator who had been battered by life for half his life.

Apply adhesive, spread the super adhesive evenly.

He changed into an old brown robe with three patches, tied a hemp rope around his waist, and wore a pair of torn cloth shoes.

The bronze mirror reflected a hunched old rogue cultivator, who had absolutely no connection to the young man in Wutong Lane who bought a top-grade array and treated guests at Zuixianlou.

Before leaving, he squatted by the courtyard wall for half an hour, using his spiritual power to amplify his hearing.

From the direction of the alley entrance, you can hear two people breathing.

One is at the base of the wall on the left side of the alley entrance, and the other is under the awning of the steamed bun shop across the street.

The fourth and fifth levels of Qi Refining had a languid aura, but their positions were very well-defined, and no one entering or leaving Wutong Alley could escape their sight.

Sun Liang was quick.

Zheng Yifei went straight out of the alley, and the two knowledgeable gang members didn't notice the old man.

He dusted himself off, hunched over, and blended into the crowd at the morning market.

In the morning, at the Datong Casino, on the first floor.

Before they even reached the second floor, an old, raggedly dressed rogue cultivator ran upstairs, only to be stopped by the thugs.

The betting table on the first floor has a maximum bet of twenty spirit coins, which is less than one spirit stone. The pool is small, but it is safe. No one will pay much attention to an old man who loses more than he wins.

Zheng Yifei squatted in the corner for an hour, earning a net profit of four hundred spirit coins.

Then the scene transitions.

In the North District, there was Jubao Casino. He had scouted this casino before. The odd/even betting tables on the second floor were well-regulated, and the dealer didn't cheat.

He changed into a gray blouse he pulled out from a hidden compartment. He had been wearing an old brown robe when he entered Datong, but now he was wearing a gray blouse when he arrived at Jubao. He hadn't changed his mask, but with the change in clothes and his posture, even the sharp-eyed thugs couldn't recognize him as the same person.

Second floor, guess odd or even.

The betting rhythm is exactly the same as before. Small, incremental betting, with a slightly higher chance of winning than losing, and bet allocation precise to the single digit.

In an hour and a half, he made a net profit of 187 spirit stones.

In the afternoon, at the Wan Jin Casino in the South District, at the Pai Gow table.

The dealer was a newcomer, with rough skills and a completely different habit of cutting cards than the previous one. Zheng Yifei spent ten hands figuring out the pattern, and then precisely reaped the rewards in the next twenty hands.

I made a net profit of 219 spirit stones.

Three gambling dens, three sets of clothes, the same mask.

Total income: 406 spirit stones plus 40 spirit coins.

After circling most of Sujiafang Market from the south district, I returned to the end of the alley along the drainage ditch as dusk fell, and climbed over the wall to enter the courtyard.

The two people keeping watch at the alley entrance had no idea what they had missed.

The courtyard gate was locked shut.

After Zheng Yifei finished counting the spirit stones, he divided them into three parts: one part was stuffed into the hidden compartment of the alcove, one part was placed under the bed board, and one part was carried on his person.

Then he left the hospital and knocked on Zhang Biao's door.

"Brother Zhang, could you run me an errand?"

He handed over a slip of paper and eighty spirit stones.

The note listed: fifty catties of spirit rice, one jar of spirit salt, and twenty catties of dried meat.

All of these are necessities for seclusion.

Zhang Biao took the note and glanced at it: "You're going into seclusion again?"

"Yes, this time it will take longer."

Zhang Biao didn't ask any more questions, and left with the spirit stones and the note in his pocket.

He was a hunter who frequently went in and out of Wutong Lane to buy supplies. The people watching him at the entrance of the lane had long been used to his frequency of coming and going and would not suspect anything.

An hour later, Zhang Biao returned carrying two large sacks and unloaded the goods in the yard.

"Everything is ready. The spirit rice was bought from Old Liu's shop in the South District, which is 20% cheaper than in the Central District. I'll return the spirit stones I saved to you."

Zhang Biao dusted off his hands and took out six spirit stones from his pocket, placing them on the stone table.

"Brother Zhang, thank you for your hard work. Please keep these six spirit stones."

"That won't do. Why should I charge you for running an errand?"

"Keep it."

Zheng Yifei stuffed the spirit stone back into his hand, "I may have to trouble you often in the future, brother."

Zhang Biao hesitated for a moment, then accepted it. It was much more profitable than hunting, and there was no risk involved.

He now knows that Zheng Yifei is the son of a wealthy family in Heishanfang City, and it feels great to make money off him.

After seeing Zhang Biao off, Zheng Yifei carried fifty catties of spirit rice into the kitchen, stacked dried meat in the cupboard, and placed buckets of spirit spring water next to the stove.

Check the defensive array plate and fill it with spirit stones.

A superior spirit-gathering array plate was placed on the bed.

The gate to the courtyard was bolted shut, and the windows were sealed.

Seclusion.

At the alley entrance, under the stall of a steamed bun shop.

A lean young man wearing a straw hat askew stared at the tightly closed courtyard gate deep in the alley, expressionlessly stuffing a cold steamed bun into his mouth.

His name was Hou San, an informant for the Iron Fist Sect, and one of the two spies that Sun Liang had placed in Wutong Lane.

On the first day, nothing happened.

The next day, nothing happened.

Day 3, Day 4, Day 5.

That gate, its paint peeling and worn, seemed to have taken root; it had never been opened.

The hunter next door, Zhang Biao, was always coming and going, carrying game and supplies back and forth. Sometimes he would climb over the wall and throw a couple of pheasants into Zheng Fei's yard. But that kid surnamed Zheng never even showed his face.

Monkey Three reported the situation to Sun Liang every day.

"He didn't come out."

"Still no one's out."

"It's been seven days. I can hear the sound of spiritual energy circulating through the crack in the door. He is indeed in seclusion."

Sun Liang sat on the armchair at the stronghold, the iron dagger spinning in his palm again and again.

"How many spirit stones does his top-grade defensive array burn every day?"

"Eight pieces."

Ma Qi flipped through his notebook. "The shop assistant at Wanbaolou said that a first-grade high-level Qi-stabilizing protective array consumes eight low-grade spirit stones per day."

Sun Liang counted on his fingers.

Eight spirit stones a day, that's two hundred and forty a month.

Including the consumption of the spirit-gathering array plate used for closed-door cultivation, the spirit stones and pills consumed by a cultivator with five spiritual roots are several times that of a cultivator with the same cultivation level—Sun Liang was unaware of this, but even if we estimate based on an ordinary cultivator with three spiritual roots, it would still cost about ten spirit stones a day.

Together, the two items amount to nearly twenty spirit stones a day.

That's six hundred yuan a month.

"Six hundred spirit stones."

Sun Liang gripped the iron gall bladder tightly.

The Iron Fist Gang's monthly protection fee income in the entire western district, plus any odd jobs they do, doesn't even amount to three hundred dollars.

This kid's monthly expenses equal two months' income for him.

"A rogue cultivator at the fourth level of Qi Refining?"

Sun Liang sneered, "So what if his uncle is Chief Escort Zhou? How much does Chief Escort Zhou earn on a single trip? Can he afford this kind of extravagance?"

"Boss, should we make our move when he comes out?"

"What's the rush?"

Sun Liang put aside his iron will: "He's holed up inside the formation. We can't break through with a strong attack, and it will alert the Su family's patrol team. We'll have to wait for him to come out. He can't stay indoors forever."

What Sun Liang didn't know was that he waited for fifteen days.

For fifteen days, the gate to that courtyard in Wutong Lane was never opened once.

Monkey Three and another stalker worked from morning till night, taking turns, until their eyes were almost bloodshot.

On the morning of the sixteenth day, Monkey Three was yawning and about to relieve his companion when he suddenly caught a commotion in the alley out of the corner of his eye—

The courtyard gate opened.

Zhang Biao climbed over the wall next door, carried two empty sacks, and came out of the alley.

But Zheng Fei did not come out.

The door closed again.

Zhang Biao went to the South District and returned an hour later carrying two full bags of supplies. He climbed over the wall and delivered them to Zheng Fei's yard.

Then, the courtyard gate was closed again.

Monkey Three rushed back to the stronghold to report.

Upon hearing this, Sun Liang slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacup to bounce.

"Damn it, this kid has Zhang Biao buy things for him, he doesn't even have to leave the house!"

Ma Qi cautiously added from the side, "Boss, the spirit stones used for the defensive array alone have already amounted to nearly 150 in the past half month. Add to that cultivation and food and drink... he probably still has quite a few spirit stones left."

Sun Liang walked around three times, feeling a tightness in his chest.

"Keep an eye on him. His spirit stones will eventually run out."

Three more days passed.

The gate to the courtyard in Wutong Lane was finally opened.

But what came out was an old man with a hunched back, wearing a drab gray robe. His Qi Refining Level 3 aura was as weak as a candle flickering in the wind. He slowly walked out of the alley, turned onto Baiyang Street, and disappeared into the crowd.

Monkey Three glanced at it but didn't pay any attention.

There are more than a dozen families living in Wutong Lane, mostly old men.

He continued to stare intently at the peeling paint on the courtyard gate.

The door was tightly shut.

It was closed all day.

That evening, Zheng Yifei climbed back into the yard through the drainage ditch and stuffed the 368 spirit stones he had won from the three gambling dens into a hidden compartment.

He sat by the Lingquan Well and ate a piece of dried meat by the moonlight.

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

Sun Liang will never know that the prey he had been watching for half a month was coming and going right under his nose.

After finishing the dried meat, Zheng Yifei returned to the main room.

The superior spirit-gathering array is activated.

Continue in seclusion.