I run a casino in the immortal realm.

Su Qingwan did not rush to answer her father's question, but instead took out the proposal from her storage bag and placed it on the coffee table.

"Dad, take a look at this first."

Su Heming picked up the spirit paper and turned two pages.

He translated very slowly.

Su Qingwan drank her tea beside him without urging him. She knew her father well; he had been the head of the family for thirty years and never relied on others' opinions to make judgments, only on his own eyes.

The main hall was quiet for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Su Heming closed the proposal, put it back on the coffee table, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes for a while.

"A gambling den that doesn't cheat."

He opened his eyes and repeated those five words, his tone as if he were savoring a pot of new tea.

"He wrote a passage in his proposal: 'The house's profit does not come from deceiving gamblers, but from mathematics itself.'"

Every gambling game has a fixed house advantage; the longer the gamblers play, the more the house wins. Cheating is short-sighted; fairness is the best business practice.

Su Heming's fingers stopped on the armrest.

He read the sentence three times.

"This kid's 'fairness card' is quite a good strategy."

Su Qingwan's eyes lit up, but she didn't say anything and continued to wait.

Su Heming pondered for a moment, then suddenly changed the subject.

"There are five gambling dens in Sujiafang City now. One is our own, and the other four are affiliated with Iron Fist Sect, Green Snake Gang, Dragon Tiger Hall, and Wantong Society. But as you know, these four gangs are all backed by members of the Su family."

If another gambling den is brought in, whose profits will be affected?

Su Qingwan nodded: "The profits are being divided between my Su family and the four major gangs."

Su Heming glanced at his daughter.

"However, there is a way to solve it. Three months ago, the Iron Fist Sect Master had four ribs broken by Zhang Biao and has been bedridden ever since, with his cultivation level dropping by a small realm."

Iron Fist Gang's Datong Gambling House has seen its turnover shrink by 40% in the past two months, and other gangs are already poaching its gamblers. It can only hold on for another six months at most before Datong Gambling House becomes an empty shell.

As the head of Sujiafang City, Su Heming had long ago discovered that the person who injured the Iron Fist Sect Master was Zhang Biao, but he had not heard any news about Zhang Biao.

"Instead of letting other gangs gradually take over Datong Gambling House, we should step in and take it back, and hand it over to Zheng Yifei."

The Iron Fist Sect is backed by the Third Branch of the family. The Third Branch's uncle had just asked my father for help last month to obtain a few Foundation Establishment Pills from the sect, and they were indebted to him. Now that the operating rights of the Datong Gambling House are being revoked, the Third Branch's uncle wouldn't dare to, and wouldn't, object.

"Father, this method will work."

Su Qingwan was very happy: "Zheng Yifei is currently at the eighth level of Qi Refining, but he has the Golden Core Hall Master behind him, who holds the power of tax supervision over the entire sect. I am the head of the inspection team under him. If the Su family has a strong enough relationship with him, my path in the sect will be much easier."

Su Heming picked up the teacup, took the last sip, and put it down.

"The Datong Gambling House is a property of the Su family, so it won't be difficult to take it back. I'll talk to the third uncle tomorrow. As for the Iron Fist Sect, you don't need to worry about it."

He stood up and paused at the door.

"A 25% profit share is too low."

Su Qingwan was taken aback: "What does Father mean?"

"It's not about adding."

Su Heming didn't even turn his head. "This cooperation is worth investing in, but since you've already agreed, let's stick with 25%. In life and in business, integrity comes first."

The footsteps faded into the distance.

Su Qingwan sat in the chair, a slight smile playing on her lips.

She understands her father.

Once he says it's worth investing in, it means he has a clear understanding of Zheng Yifei's importance—it's not about helping his daughter, it's a bet the Su family wants to make themselves.

At the same moment. Sujiafang Market, East Street.

Zhao Wenyuan's "Hongfu Restaurant" has closed.

The workers were tidying up the tables and chairs, while Zhao Wenyuan sat behind the counter, fiddling with his abacus, making a loud clattering sound, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly.

The restaurant's business wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. Given the consumption level of Sujiafang Market, the daily turnover was around a hundred spirit stones. After deducting the cost of goods, labor, and rent, they could only save three or four hundred spirit stones at the end of the month.

It's enough to support my family, but there's no hope of getting rich.

The back door of the restaurant was being pounded on loudly.

"Who?"

"I am Zhang Biao."

Zhao Wenyuan almost dropped the abacus.

He rushed to the back door, unlatched it, and a dark-faced man was right in front of him.

"Brother Biao?!"

Zhang Biao stood outside the door carrying four wooden crates and a large bundle on his back, looking travel-worn.

Zhao Wenyuan pulled the man inside and looked him up and down: "Why are you back? What happened?"

Zhang Biao placed the wooden box on the table, took out a letter from his pocket, and slapped it in front of Zhao Wenyuan.

"Yifei asked me to bring this to you."

Zhao Wenyuan opened the letter.

On the first page, his expression changed from confusion to surprise.

On the second page, the surprise turned into shock.

From the third page onwards, his hands began to tremble.

"My sister entered Danfeng, and Zheng Yifei became an inner disciple? The Chief Inspector of the Tax Bureau?"

Zhao Wenyuan's voice rang out, "He's only been in the sect for a little over a month!"

Zhang Biao sat down in a chair and downed a bowl of cold tea: "When I saw him, he was sitting in a private office with a storage bag hanging from his waist and a silver token on his desk. He had ten Foundation Establishment cultivators under his command and more than a thousand outer disciples."

Zhao Wenyuan clutched the letter in his hand, glared at Zhang Biao, and stared at him for a long time without closing his mouth.

He hadn't known Zheng Yifei for very long; Zheng Yifei had only invested in his restaurant for two or three months before taking his sister to Qingyun City.

But to his utter surprise, in just over two months, this guy actually rose to an official position within the Qingyun Sect.

And he wasn't even a minor official.

Chief Inspector of the Tax Bureau. In charge of taxes for all merchants in the entire clan.

Having been in business for over a decade, Zhao Wenyuan knew all too well the weight of the words "tax administration."

In the eyes of merchants, tax collectors are like gods; a single sentence can force you to pay a fine, and two sentences can shut down your shop.

He took a deep breath and read the letter again from beginning to end.

When he reached the fourth page, his breathing became rapid.

"Tianyuan Gambling House...I'll be fully responsible for its operation?"

"right."

Zhang Biao patted the four wooden boxes. "The gambling equipment is all here: playing cards, dominoes, dice, roulette, all made by the Qingyun Sect's Weapon Peak. They're all top-quality stuff."

"The Su family will handle the shop space and local relations; I'll take care of security; you'll be responsible for making money."

Zhao Wenyuan flipped to the project proposal section and read it page by page.

Floor plan, gambling rules and odds table, dealer training manual, membership system design, recharge rebate scheme...

The more he looked, the more alarmed he became.

It's not because it's complicated, quite the opposite, it's because it's so clear. Every step is explained in detail, and even the standard shuffling motion of the dealer is illustrated with a breakdown diagram.

Having run a restaurant business for many years, Zhao Wenyuan knows that the worst thing about opening a business is not having no money, but having no direction.

Many people have spent tens of thousands of spirit stones, aimlessly investing in one area and then losing everything in the end.

Zheng Yifei's proposal is like a map, clearly marking every step from the starting point to the finish line.

He just needs to follow the instructions.

Zhao Wenyuan put down the proposal, stood up, and walked around the table twice.

"Brother Biao".

"Um?"

"I'll sell the restaurant tomorrow, or I'll just turn it into a gambling den."

Zhang Biao was taken aback: "Will this work?"

Zhao Wenyuan picked up the proposal, slapped it on the table, and his eyes shone with a light Zhang Biao had never seen before.

"The restaurant only makes three or four hundred spirit stones a month, working themselves to the bone. If this gambling den could operate according to Brother Yifei's model—"

He pointed to a set of numbers on the odds table.

"Just the roulette table alone can generate enough revenue in a day to equal my restaurant's monthly income."

Zhang Biao looked at the string of numbers but didn't understand them; however, he understood Zhao Wenyuan's expression.

This is the face of a businessman when he smells gold.

"Okay then."

Zhang Biao patted the wooden box. "You take care of making money, and I'll take care of safety. Once we reach an agreement with the Su family, we'll start operating. Here are four thousand spirit stones from Yifei. If that's not enough, the Su family can contribute some."