Free Web NovelChapter 132: Chapter 131: Aftermath, Night Talk
At dusk, the snow in Zhabei stopped.
But the chill in the city this night was destined to be more bone-piercing than when it was snowing.
The sounds of horse-drawn carriages and motorcars echoed ceaselessly outside the district gates. Hordes of Qinglian Gang members flooded silently into Zhabei, a silent, rising tide. All wore matching dark, close-fitting attire, a conspicuous white band wrapped around each of their right arms. In the twilight, they formed cold, grim lines of death.
The sounds of splintering doors, cries of terror, and pleas for mercy—punctuated by sporadic but decisive gunshots—had not ceased since night began to fall.
Flames occasionally flared up within the district, illuminating faces twisted in panicked flight or desperate resistance. Then, just as quickly, the light would be snuffed out as dark figures pounced. In the darkness, figures hurried out, dragging away corpse after corpse and leaving long, crimson stains on the snow.
All of Zhabei fell deathly silent. Its countless downtrodden inhabitants bolted their doors and windows, shivering under their quilts.
The embers of the day’s brief skirmish had yet to cool, and now they had erupted into a far more ferocious, all-consuming storm.
People began to understand. The big shots were settling scores... and it was just beginning.
Deep within the district, atop a dilapidated, four-story earthen building.
A man with hideous burn scars on his face stood silently. Behind him was a group of well-built, scarred men. In the distant darkness, fires flickered, and the remote, muffled sound of gunfire could be heard from time to time.
"Yan the Ninth really bit the dust this time. He provoked someone he never should have crossed..."
Someone spoke in a low voice.
The man’s face was a mask as he asked, "Who from the Qinglian Gang was it that Yan the Ninth tried to kill this afternoon?"
"I heard... it was Madam Ding’s own nephew."
The man paused before continuing in a hushed tone, "The stupid thing is, not only did Yan the Ninth fail to kill him, he got himself killed in the process.
When you screw up that badly, you’re bound to be thrown away like a pawn..."
"The target didn’t die? Yan the Ninth is the one who’s dead?!"
The scarred man turned his head at the words, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
The man beside him nodded heavily, then said with some hesitation, "Commander, what should we do now...?"
The Commander narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the distant, flickering gunfire. His own eyes glinted in the dark.
After a moment, he spoke slowly, "Send someone to schedule another meeting with them. I’d like to see for myself... just what kind of person can turn the tables and kill Yan the Ninth all by himself in Zhabei!"
"Yes, sir."
....
「Western Realm, Ink Garden.」
"...After tonight, all of Shenghai will know.
That Yan the Ninth of Zhabei had the audacity to try to kill Ding Moshan’s adopted son, enraging Madam Ding and prompting her to send men into the district to wipe him and his entire crew out."
In the Ding Family study, a clay pot on a small red-clay stove bubbled away, filling the air with steam.
Madam Ding, dressed in a simple qipao with a subtle dark pattern, spoke as she casually arranged the tea set before her.
Fu Juemin sat beside her, having already changed his clothes.
’Although Aunt Ding treats me very well,’ Fu Juemin thought, ’this is only the second time since our first meeting that we’ve sat together for a casual chat over tea, just like a regular aunt and nephew.’
Just half an hour ago, Fu Juemin had personally witnessed Aunt Ding in her study, nonchalantly issuing one command after another over the phone, mobilizing her forces.
’By now, blood must be flowing like a river in Zhabei.’
"But Aunt Ding has managed to keep me completely out of it..."
Fu Juemin accepted the cup of tea from Madam Ding and couldn’t help but remark quietly.
"That Ding Zhao’an betrayed his own and dared to conspire with outsiders against you. According to gang rules, he should have been made to suffer... For him to die so easily and get to keep his dignity in death... he got off lightly."
Madam Ding’s tone was placid. She turned to Fu Juemin, her eyes showing undisguised relief and admiration. "But you, Lingjun... Aunt Ding never imagined. Not only did you manage to turn the tables on Yan the Ninth, but you were bold enough to impersonate him and storm Ding Zhao’an’s headquarters to kill him.
In that, you’re much better than your father.
But you must remember, don’t you ever do something like that again..."
Madam Ding gently patted the back of his hand, her tone turning serious. "I know you’re capable, Lingjun, but I worry. If anything were to happen to you, I truly don’t know how I’d face your mother."
’I’ve seen Madam Ding speak to her subordinates,’ Fu Juemin reflected. ’She’s always sharp and decisive, a woman of few words.’
’But with me, she’s so talkative she almost rambles. She really does see me as her own son.’
"Lingjun will remember."
Seeing Fu Juemin’s obedient reply, Madam Ding nodded in satisfaction, then immediately turned the conversation back to business.
"I’ve looked into it.
Of the three men you killed at Sanjiang Restaurant, besides Ding Zhao’an, one was the Chief Leader of the Hu’an Escort Agency. He was one of the Zhao Family’s people from the Shenghai Martial Dao Association.
The other man’s surname was Shen. Shen Wantong.
He has a bit of a reputation here in the New Realm. He specializes in brokering deals between the criminal underworld and legitimate society. I suspect he’s the one who connected with Yan the Ninth..."
"Shen Wantong..."
Fu Juemin’s eyes flashed when he heard the name. He asked, "Someone from the Jiangnan Shen Family?"
The former Four Young Masters of Shenghai were the faces of the top families in Shenghai, each representing one of four domains: power, wealth, culture, and the martial arts.
The "wealth" referred to the Shen Family, the premier financial dynasty of Jiangnan.
Young Master Cai, Shen Yijun... and now this broker, Shen Wantong. Since both shared the Shen surname, Fu Juemin couldn’t help but connect them to the Shen Family.
"Yes."
Madam Ding nodded. "But he’s just from an overlooked branch of the family. The Shen Family has far more than just him running these sorts of brokerage operations..."
"Are you saying this might not be related to the Shen Family, Aunt Ding?"
"I wouldn’t say they’re completely uninvolved."
Madam Ding placed her hands on her knees and said slowly, "But the main issue is still the Luo and Chen Families."
Fu Juemin raised an eyebrow. "The Chen Family is involved too?"
The Chen Family she mentioned was, of course, the one that represented the pillar of culture among the four domains of power, wealth, culture, and martial arts.
"The Luo and Chen Families have always been thick as thieves. When the Luo Family gets involved in something, how could the Chen Family’s shadow be far behind?"
Madam Ding’s tone was nonchalant.
Fu Juemin’s eyes flickered, and his fingers gently rubbed the side of the teacup in his hand.
’So this time, the young masters of "power, wealth, culture, and martial arts" have all teamed up to deal with me, the up-and-comer.’
’Interesting....’
At this thought, Fu Juemin couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked down at the rippling tea in his cup.
Seeing him like this, Madam Ding couldn’t help but say softly, "All of Shenghai knows that Luo Zhengxiong and Mr. Wen Zhiqiu don’t see eye to eye.
Those of us who work for them have fought, both openly and in the shadows, more times than I can count...
At this critical juncture, both sides are desperately searching for Li Mingyi’s daughter.
While I have some influence with Mr. Wen, I know him well. I’m afraid this matter goes no further than Zhabei..."
Fu Juemin was taken aback. "Li Mingyi’s daughter?
Weren’t you helping Mayor Wen look for the gold from the White Dragon before, Aunt Ding?"
"Initially, it was about the gold, and some nonsense about an immortality treasure from the former Emperor Qianming.
But we’ve recently captured several members of the Revolutionary Faction, and we’ve tortured new information out of them.
The so-called gold and treasure were just a diversion. What the White Dragon was actually transporting was the only daughter of the Revolutionary Faction’s leader, Li Mingyi."
She paused, then added, "There are also rumors that if you find Li Mingyi’s daughter, you’ll get the gold and the treasure as well."
"How old is she? What does she look like?"
Fu Juemin couldn’t help but ask.
Madam Ding shook her head, saying she didn’t know what she looked like, and her age could only be roughly estimated to be between fifteen and twenty-five.
For some reason, her answer made Fu Juemin think of the young woman he’d bumped into in the stairwell of that old apartment building that afternoon. The memory surfaced from when he had been fighting Yan the Ninth’s gang—a young woman, holding a gun, retreating in panic.
And the image of the student-like girl she had been so fiercely protecting flashed through his mind.
