Free Web NovelChapter 129: Chapter 128: Warming the Wine
Tiantong Road.
Heavy snow was falling.
Silk and cloth merchants, pawnshops, and restaurants lined the street.
In front of a small, cheap teahouse, a "tiger stove" had been set up. A large crowd of rickshaw pullers and laborers, seeking shelter from the snow, gathered around it. Steam billowed, and the air was thick with the clamor of voices.
Just then, a horse-drawn carriage came galloping through the snow.
The carriage pulled to a stop at the street corner, in front of a three-story wood and stone building with a sign that read "Sanjiang Restaurant." A tall, thin man in a black hat and brocade clothes stepped out.
The man had a short blade tucked into his waist. On his right hand, which wore a conspicuous jade ring, he carried a bundle wrapped tightly in white cloth. It was impossible to tell what was inside, but a hint of crimson had soaked through the bottom.
The man got out of the carriage and walked straight toward the restaurant. But before he could lift the door curtain, two fierce-looking thugs blocked his way, warning him in a hostile tone.
"Don’t you know where you are? Who do you think you are, just barging in like that?"
Hearing this, the man slowly raised his head.
He took off his hat, revealing a face with high cheekbones and sunken eyes. His gaze was as predatory and sharp as a knife.
"You even dare to stop me?"
Seeing the man’s face clearly, the guards’ expressions changed instantly. They immediately put on ingratiating smiles. "So it’s Master Jiu! Forgive my poor eyesight, I deserve to die, I deserve to die!
Master Ding has been waiting for you in a private room on the second floor for a long time. Please, come in!"
The man snorted coldly through his nose, then lifted the curtain and entered.
Outside was the desolate wind and snow; inside was another world entirely.
As soon as he stepped through the door, a wave of boisterous heat, mixed with the smells of alcohol, smoke, and sweat, washed over him.
The main hall was packed with twenty or thirty tables, nearly all of them full. But there wasn’t a single diner in sight. The sounds of shouting from drinking games, the clatter of dice, and the slap of dominoes were loud enough to tear the roof off. Almost every man sitting at the tables was burly and heavily built, with tattoos coiling over their arms and backs.
Waiters darted through the hall like shuttles, serving tea and water, but they only waited on these tough-looking characters.
Anyone who had been around Shenghai for a while knew that this Sanjiang Restaurant on Tiantong Road, despite its restaurant sign and auspicious name—which meant something like "three rivers gathering wealth"—never did any legitimate business.
It was a key stronghold for the Hundred Professions Hall of the Qinglian Gang, a place exclusively for the gang’s brothers to gather and amuse themselves.
Fu Juemin stood in the shadows by the door, his eyes sweeping across the main hall. Occasionally, someone would look his way, but they would quickly avert their gaze after a single glance.
He didn’t have to wait long before someone came up to guide him upstairs.
"Master Jiu, you really work with the speed of lightning..."
The guide noticed the white cloth bundle in Fu Juemin’s hand, and his tone became even more respectful. "Why did you come alone? Your men aren’t with you?"
"What, do I, Yan the Ninth, need to bring a whole entourage just to protect myself on your Qinglian Gang’s turf?"
Fu Juemin replied in a hoarse voice.
"That’s true. Once this is done, we’ll all be family anyway."
The guide smiled and nodded, cupping his hands. "We’ll be counting on Master Jiu to look out for us then."
"Of course."
Fu Juemin answered casually.
’This is my first time using the [Painted Hide] Talent.’ He had changed his clothes and slightly altered his vocal cords... Right now, he was, for all intents and purposes, Yan the Ninth "himself."
’I can’t be bothered to imitate all his mannerisms and little habits. If someone who knew him well spent too much time with me, they’d probably see through the disguise eventually. But for dealing with someone like this, who barely knows Yan the Ninth, it’s more than enough.’
"Which private room is Master Ding in?"
"Harmony Pavilion, on the second floor. I’ll take you there, Master Jiu."
"No need."
Fu Juemin raised a hand to stop him, his tone casual. "I’ll go up myself. There are two jars of aged Huadiao wine in my carriage outside. Go get them and have them warmed up."
The guide hesitated for a second but quickly agreed, smiling. "Alright, I’ll go warm the wine for you, Master Jiu."
As the guide turned and went downstairs, Fu Juemin gazed toward the private rooms on the second floor. With a flicker of thought, he silently activated [Yao Ling].
In an instant, the clamorous background noise of the restaurant’s main hall receded like a tide. The conversation from a specific room on the second floor trickled in, each and every word clear to his ears.
He listened as he walked.
....
Inside the quiet and elegant "Harmony Pavilion."
A custom-made round table sat in the center, on which a purple copper hot pot bubbled away. The savory aroma of lamb wafted out with the white steam, completely shutting out the wind and snow from the window. The whole room felt warm and cozy.
Ding Zhao’an, dressed in a perfectly pressed shirt and vest, leaned back in a yellow pearwood chair, his face slightly flushed from the heat of the charcoal fire.
"Once that kid is dead, I’m afraid Ding Moshan will go insane."
He took a sip of wine, his eyes gloomy. "She’s always been reckless. It wouldn’t be unlike her to lead a charge into Zhabei overnight..."
"Brother Ding, you worry too much."
The one who replied was a fat man in a suit and a delicate bow tie. With an affable smile, he methodically plucked a slice of lamb from the pot. "With Young Master Quan’s connections, even if Ding Moshan finds out it was Yan the Ninth, the trail will never lead back to you."
The fat man paused, then lowered his voice and chuckled. "She’s just a woman. Does she really think changing her name to a man’s will be enough to keep her seat at the head of three halls?
There must be plenty of people in the Qinglian Gang who can’t stand the sight of her.
It would be better if she really did go crazy. Making a huge fuss over some bastard of unknown origin, starting a gang war between Zhabei and the outside... even with her high seniority, she wouldn’t be able to silence everyone’s objections.
When that time comes, won’t that be your chance, Brother Ding?..."
Besides the fat man in the suit, there was another man at the table: a burly, bronze-skinned man with a square face and thick eyebrows.
He wore a short tunic, and his muscles strained against the thin fabric. He was completely focused on eating and drinking, silent and taciturn.
And beside each of the three men stood a beautiful, well-figured woman in a qipao, responsible for pouring their tea and wine.
Ding Zhao’an nodded at his words. "That bitch has been in charge of the Lu’an, God of Wealth, and Hundred Industries halls for years, raking in a fortune every day. She’s made a lot of people jealous...
The Hall Masters of the Feng Xin and Yi Lv halls have always been dissatisfied with her. They’ve deliberately gone against her several times during gang meetings."
"You should contact them more in private."
The fat man in the suit wiped his hands with a towel and smiled. "With several Young Masters backing you, Brother Ding, you should have more confidence."
With that, he turned to the burly man beside him and made an introduction. "Young Master Wu heard you were short on experts who can hold down the fort, so he specially sent Master Hong here to help you.
This is Master Hong Yi. In his early years, he traveled all over with Chairman Zhao Jigang. He once held the position of Leader of the Escort at the Zhao Family Escort Agency Headquarters. His martial arts are Tongxuan-level; he is a true grandmaster of the Martial Dao..."
"A Tongxuan Martial Family?"
Hearing this, Ding Zhao’an’s eyes lit up. He quickly stood up, holding his wine cup. "Master Hong, my apologies for the disrespect! I’d like to toast you!"
The square-faced man didn’t rise. He just slightly raised his cup and said flatly, "My Young Master has given his orders. From now on, if you need anything, Mr. Ding, just say the word."
"With Master Hong here, I can finally rest easy."
Ding Zhao’an beamed. He recalled the frustration of having Ding Moshan’s men force their way in to audit his books, while his own subordinates were powerless to stop them. Now, he felt his confidence surge.
He no longer felt any annoyance at the square-faced man’s arrogant attitude; in fact, his expression became even more courteous.
The men pushed cups and exchanged glasses, and the atmosphere was growing lively.
"KNOCK. KNOCK."
Suddenly, a slow, deliberate knock sounded at the door.
Ding Zhao’an gave a meaningful look, and the qipao-clad woman serving him hurried to open the door.
As soon as the door opened, the faint smell of blood immediately rushed in, carried on the frigid wind.
The square-faced man, who had been silently focused on eating and drinking at the table, suddenly looked up. His tiger-like eyes flew wide open, a sharp glint flashing within them.
